Denise Richards’ estranged husband Aaron Phypers must continue to keep his distance from the actor and reality TV star as they move forward in their acrimonious divorce.
A Los Angeles judge on Friday granted the former “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” star’s request to make her temporary restraining order against Phypers permanent. Richards was granted a five-year restraining order that restricts Phypers from buying or owning guns, contacting her or abusing her, among other restrictions, according to People. The order will expire Nov. 7, 2030.
Legal representatives for Richards and Phypers did not immediately respond to requests for comment Friday.
The judgment comes after months of contentious hearings that uncovered scathing allegations about their relationship including accusations of infidelity, drug addiction and abuse.
Businessman Phypers, 53, filed to divorce Richards, 54, in July after six years of marriage. He cited irreconcilable differences and requested spousal support. According to court documents, Phypers said he has earned no money since closing down a business last year and estimates “Starship Troopers” actor Richards makes more than $250,000 a month from several business ventures including brand deals, TV and OnlyFans content. Phypers has asked to keep their assets and debts as separate property, including his power tools, motorcycle and sports car, legal documents showed.
Richards and Phypers began dating in 2017 and married in September 2018 in a private ceremony in Malibu. They share no children, though Richards has three: two daughters she shares with ex-husband Charlie Sheen and a teenage daughter she adopted as an infant. Phypers was previously married to “Desperate Housewives” star Nicollette Sheridan from 2015 to 2018.
Weeks after Phypers filed for divorce, Richards fired back and offered a damning account of their marriage. She accused her estranged spouse of abuse, death threats and possession of unregistered weapons in a request for a temporary restraining order that was granted by the Los Angeles County Superior Court in July. Phypers, who denied the allegations, at the time was ordered to stay 100 yards away from Richards and her car, workplace and home, and was told he could not possess firearms or body armor.
“Wild Things” actor Richards referred to abuse that allegedly occurred during their marriage, including between July 4 and July 14, after she had moved out of the family home and into three townhouses that she uses separately as a studio, an office and her residence.
Since July, the pair have fiercely traded barbs in public statements and legal documents. Phypers accused Richards of cheating on him with another man and of scaring his parents when she arrived at their Calabasas home in early August to retrieve her dogs, among other allegations. In court documents, Richards accused Phypers and his family of refusing to vacate that Calabasas abode after allegedly failing repeatedly to pay rent for the property. She also accused the Canadian and his family of trashing the home.
Amid their legal battle, Phypers was arrested in October after a heated courthouse hearing. Law enforcement took Phypers into custody and charged him with two felony counts of injuring a spouse and two felony counts of dissuading a witness by force or threat, according to TMZ. He was swiftly released after posting $200,000 bond.
Times assistant editor Christie D’Zurilla contributed to this report.
Diane Ladd, the Oscar-nominated actor who received acclaim for her work in films including “Rambling Rose,” “Wild at Heart” and “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” has died. She was 89.
Oscar winner Laura Dern, Ladd’s daughter with Oscar-nominated actor Bruce Dern, announced her mother’s death in a statement shared Monday. “My amazing hero and my profound gift of a mother, Diane Ladd, passed with me beside her this morning, at her home in Ojai,” Dern wrote. A cause of death was not revealed.
“She was the greatest daughter, mother, grandmother, actress, artist and empathetic spirit that only dreams could have seemingly created,” “Marriage Story” star Dern said in her statement. “We were blessed to have her.”
You may not know Eliot Mack’s name, but if a small robot has ever crept around your kitchen, you know his work.
Before he turned his MIT-trained mind to filmmaking, Mack helped lead a small team of engineers trying to solve a deeply relatable problem: how to avoid vacuuming. Whether it was figuring out how to get around furniture legs or unclog the brushes after a run-in with long hair, Mack designed everything onscreen first with software, troubleshooting virtually and getting 80% of the way there before a single part was ever manufactured.
When Mack pivoted to filmmaking in the early 2000s, he was struck by how chaotic Hollywood’s process felt. “You pitch the script, get the green light and you’re flying into production,” he says, sounding both amused and baffled. “There’s no CAD template, no centralized database. I was like, how do movies even get made?”
That question sent Mack down a new path, trading dust bunnies for the creative bottlenecks that slow Hollywood down.
In 2004 he founded Lightcraft Technology, a startup developing what would later be known as virtual production tools, born out of his belief that if you could design a robot in software, you should be able to design a shot the same way. The company’s early system, Previzion, sold for $180,000 and was used on sci-fi and fantasy shows like “V” and “Once Upon a Time.” But Jetset, its latest AI-assisted tool set, runs on an iPhone and offers a free tier, with pro features topping out at just $80 a month. It lets filmmakers scan a location, drop it into virtual space and block out scenes with camera moves, lighting and characters. They can preview shots, overlay elements and organize footage for editing — all from a phone. No soundstage, no big crew, no gatekeepers. Lightcraft’s pitch: “a movie studio in your pocket.”
A series on how the AI revolution is reshaping the creative foundations of Hollywood — from storytelling and performance to production, labor and power.
The goal, Mack says, is to put more power in the hands of the people making the work. “One of the big problems is how siloed Hollywood is,” he says. “We talked to an Oscar-winning editor who said, ‘I’m never going to get to make my movie’ — he was pigeonholed as just an editor. Same with an animator we know who has two Oscars.”
Eliot Mack, CEO of Lightcraft, an AI-powered virtual-production startup, wants to give creators the power and freedom to bring their ideas to life.
(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)
To Mack, the revolution of Jetset recalls the scrappy, guerrilla spirit of Roger Corman’s low-budget productions, which launched the early careers of directors like Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese. For generations of creatives stuck waiting on permission or funding, he sees this moment as a reset button.
“The things you got good at — writing, directing, acting, creating, storytelling — they’re still crazy useful,” he says. “What’s changing is the amount of schlepping you have to do before you get to do the fun stuff. Your 20s are a gift. You want to be creating at the absolute speed of sound. We’re trying to get to a place where you don’t have to ask anyone. You can just make the thing.”
AI is reshaping nearly every part of the filmmaking pipeline. Storyboards can now be generated from a script draft. Lighting and camera angles can be tested before anyone touches a piece of gear. Rough cuts, placeholder VFX, even digital costume mock-ups can all be created before the first shot is filmed. What once took a full crew, a soundstage and a six-figure budget can now happen in minutes, sometimes at the hands of a single person with a laptop.
This wave of automation is arriving just as Hollywood is gripped by existential anxiety. The 2023 writers’ and actors’ strikes brought the industry to a standstill and put AI at the center of a fight over its future. Since then, production has slowed, crew sizes have shrunk and the streaming boom has given way to consolidation and cost-cutting.
According to FilmLA, on-location filming in Greater Los Angeles dropped 22.4% in early 2025 compared with the year before. For many of the crew members and craftspeople still competing for those jobs, AI doesn’t feel like an innovation. It feels like a new way to justify doing more with less, only to end up with work that’s less original or creative.
“AI scrapes everything we artists have made off the internet and creates a completely static, banal world that can never imagine anything that hasn’t happened before,” documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis warned during a directors panel at the 2023 Telluride Film Festival, held in the midst of the strikes. “That’s the real weakness of the AI dream — it’s stuck with the ghosts. And I think we’ll get fed up with that.”
How you feel about these changes often depends on where you sit and how far along you are in your career. For people just starting out, AI can offer a way to experiment, move faster and bypass the usual barriers to entry. For veterans behind the scenes, it often feels like a threat to the expertise they’ve spent decades honing.
Past technological shifts — the arrival of sound, the rise of digital cameras, the advancement of CGI — changed how movies were made, but not necessarily who made them. Each wave brought new roles: boom operators and dialogue coaches, color consultants and digital compositors. Innovation usually meant more jobs, not fewer.
But AI doesn’t just change the tools. It threatens to erase the people who once used the old ones.
Diego Mariscal has seen first hand as AI has cut potential jobs for grips.
(Jennifer Rose Clasen)
Diego Mariscal, 43, a veteran dolly grip who has worked on “The Mandalorian” and “Spider-Man: No Way Home,” saw the writing on the wall during a recent shoot. A visual effects supervisor opened his laptop to show off a reel of high-end commercials and something was missing. “There were no blue screens — none,” Mariscal recalls. “That’s what we do. We put up blues as grips. You’d normally hire an extra 10 people and have an extra three days of pre-rigging, setting up all these blue screens. He was like, ‘We don’t need it anymore. I just use AI to clip it out.’”
Mariscal runs Crew Stories, a private Facebook group with nearly 100,000 members, where working crew members share job leads, trade tips and voice their growing fears. He tries to keep up with the steady drip of AI news. “I read about AI all day, every day,” he says. “At least 20 posts a day.”
His fear isn’t just about fewer jobs — it’s about what comes next. “I’ve been doing this since I was 19,” Mariscal says of his specialized dolly work, which involves setting up heavy equipment and guiding the camera smoothly through complex shots. “I can push a cart in a parking lot. I can push a lawnmower. What else can I do?”
Who wins, who loses and what does James Cameron think?
Before AI and digital doubles, Mike Marino learned the craft of transformation the human way: through hands-on work and a fascination that bordered on obsession.
Marino was 5 years old when he first saw “The Elephant Man” on HBO. Horrified yet transfixed, he became fixated on prosthetics and the emotional power they could carry. As a teenager in New York, he pored over issues of Fangoria, studied monsters and makeup effects and experimented with sculpting his own latex masks on his bedroom floor.
Prosthetics artist Mike Marino asks a big question related to generative AI: What role do the human creatives play?
(Sean Dougherty / For The Times)
Decades later, Marino, 48, has become one of Hollywood’s leading makeup artists, earning Oscar nominations for “Coming 2 America,” “The Batman” and last year’s dark comedy “A Different Man,” in which he helped transform Sebastian Stan into a disfigured actor.
His is the kind of tactile, handcrafted work that once seemed irreplaceable. But today AI tools are increasingly capable of achieving similar effects digitally: de-aging actors, altering faces, even generating entire performances. What used to take weeks of experimentation and hours in a makeup trailer can now be approximated with a few prompts and a trained model. To Marino, AI is more than a new set of tools. It’s a fundamental change in what it means to create.
“If AI is so good it can replace a human, then why have any human beings?” he says. “This is about taste. It’s about choice. I’m a human being. I’m an artist. I have my own ideas — mine. Just because you can make 10,000 spaceships in a movie, should you?”
“If AI is so good it can replace a human, then why have any human beings?”
— Mike Marino, makeup artist on “A Different Man”
Marino is no technophobe. His team regularly uses 3D scanning and printing. But he draws the line at outsourcing creative judgment to a machine. “I’m hoping there are artists who want to work with humans and not machines,” he says. “If we let AI just run amok with no taste, no choice, no morality behind it, then we’re gone.”
Not everyone sees AI’s rise in film production as a zero-sum game. Some technologists imagine a middle path. Daniela Rus, director of MIT’s Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Lab and one of the world’s leading AI researchers, believes the future of filmmaking lies in a “human-machine partnership.”
AI, Rus argues, can take on time-consuming tasks like animating background extras, color correction or previsualizing effects, freeing up people to focus on what requires intuition and taste. “AI can help with the routine work,” she says. “But the human touch and emotional authenticity are essential.”
Few directors have spent more time grappling with the dangers and potential of artificial intelligence than James Cameron. Nearly 40 years before generative tools entered Hollywood’s workflow, he imagined a rogue AI triggering global apocalypse in 1984’s “The Terminator,” giving the world Skynet — now a cultural shorthand for the dark side of machine intelligence. Today, he continues to straddle that line, using AI behind the scenes on the upcoming “Avatar: Fire and Ash” to optimize visual effects and performance-capture, while keeping creative decisions in human hands. The latest sequel, due Dec. 19, promises to push the franchise’s spectacle and scale even further; a newly released trailer reveals volcanic eruptions, aerial battles and a new clan of Na’vi.
A scene from “Avatar: The Way of Water.” Director James Cameron differentiates between using machine-learning to reduce monotonous movie-making work and generative AI.
(Courtesy of 20th Century Studios/Courtesy of 20th Century Studios)
“You can automate a lot of processes that right now tie up a lot of artists doing mundane tasks,” Cameron told The Times in 2023 at a Beyond Fest screening of his 1989 film “The Abyss.” “So if we could accelerate the postproduction pipeline, then we can make more movies. Then those artists will get to do more exciting things.”
For Cameron, the promise of AI lies in efficiency, not elimination. “I think in our particular industry, it’s not going to replace people; it’s going to free them to do other things,” he believes. “It’s going to accelerate the process and bring the price down, which would be good because, you know, some movies are a little more expensive than others. And a lot of that has to do with human energy.”
Cameron himself directed five films between 1984 and 1994 and only three in the three decades since, though each one has grown increasingly complex and ambitious.
That said, Cameron has never been one to chase shortcuts for their own sake. “I think you can make pre-viz and design easier, but I don’t know if it makes it better,” he says. “I mean, if easy is your thing. Easy has never been my thing.”
He draws a line between the machine-learning techniques his team has used since the first “Avatar” to help automate tedious tasks and the newer wave of generative AI models making headlines today.
“The big explosion has been around image-based generative models that use everything from every image that’s ever been created,” he says. “We’d never use any of them. The images we make are computer-created, but they’re not AI-created.”
In his view, nothing synthetic can replace the instincts of a flesh-and-blood artist. “We have human artists that do all the designs,” he says. “We don’t need AI. We’ve got meat-I. And I’m one of the meat-artists that come up with all that stuff. We don’t need a computer. Maybe other people need it. We don’t.”
Reshaping creativity — and creative labor
Rick Carter didn’t go looking for AI as a tool. He discovered it as a lifeline.
The two-time Oscar-winning production designer, who worked with Cameron on “Avatar” and whose credits include “Jurassic Park” and “Forrest Gump,” began experimenting with generative AI tools like Midjourney and Runway during the pandemic, looking for a way to keep his creative instincts sharp while the industry was on pause. A longtime painter, he was drawn to the freedom the programs offered.
“I saw that there was an opportunity to create images where I didn’t have to go to anybody else for approval, which is the way I would paint,” Carter says by phone from Paris. “None of the gatekeeping would matter. I have a whole lot of stories on my own that I’ve tried to get into the world in various ways and suddenly there was a way to visualize them.”
Midjourney and Runway can create richly detailed images — and in Runway’s case, short video clips — from a text prompt or a combination of text and visuals. Trained on billions of images and audiovisual materials scraped from the internet, these systems learn to mimic style, lighting, composition and form, often with eerie precision. In a production pipeline, these tools can help concept artists visualize characters or sets, let directors generate shot ideas or give costume designers and makeup artists a fast way to test looks, long before physical production begins.
But as these tools gain traction in Hollywood, a deeper legal and creative dilemma is coming into focus: Who owns the work they produce? And what about the copyrighted material used to train them?
In June, Disney and Universal filed a federal copyright lawsuit against Midjourney, accusing the company of generating unauthorized replicas of characters such as Spider-Man, Darth Vader and Shrek using AI models trained on copyrighted material: what the suit calls a “bottomless pit of plagiarism.” It’s the most high-profile of several legal challenges now putting copyright law to the test in the age of generative AI.
“Forrest Gump” director Robert Zemeckis, left, with production designer Rick Carter at an art installation of the movie’s famed bench. (Carter family)
(Carter family)
Working with generative models, Carter began crafting what he calls “riffs of consciousness,” embracing AI as a kind of collaborative partner, one he could play off of intuitively. The process reminded him of the loose, improvisational early stages of filmmaking, a space he knows well from decades of working with directors like Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg.
“I’ll just start with a visual or a word prompt and see how it iterates from there and what it triggers in my mind,” Carter says. “Then I incorporate that so it builds on its own in an almost free-associative way. But it’s still based upon my own intuitive, emotional, artistic, even spiritual needs at that moment.”
He describes the experience as a dialogue between two minds, one digital and one human: “One AI is artificial intelligence. The other AI is authentic intelligence — that’s us. We’ve earned it over this whole span of time on the planet.”
Sometimes, Carter says, the most evocative results come from mistakes. While sketching out a story about a hippie detective searching for a missing woman in the Himalayas, he accidentally typed “womb” into ChatGPT instead of “woman.” The AI ran with it, returning three pages of wild plot ideas involving gurus, seekers and a bizarre mystery set in motion by the disappearance.
“I couldn’t believe it,” he says. “I would never have taken it that far. The AI is so precocious. It is trying so much to please that it will literally make something out of the mistake you make.”
Carter hasn’t used generative AI on a film yet; most of his creations are shared only with friends. But he says the technology is already slipping into creative workflows in covert ways. “There are issues with copyrights with most of the studios so for now, it’s going to be mostly underground,” he says. “People will use it but they won’t acknowledge that they’re using it — they’ll have an illustrator do something over it, or take a photo so there’s no digital trail.”
Carter has lived through a major technological shift before. “I remember when we went from analog to digital, from ‘Jurassic Park’ on,” he says. “There were a lot of wonderful artists who could draw and paint in ways that were just fantastic but they couldn’t adapt. They didn’t want to — even the idea of it felt like the wrong way to make art. And, of course, most of them suffered because they didn’t make it from the Rolodex to the database in terms of people calling them up.”
He worries that some artists may approach the technology with a rigid sense of authorship. “Early on, I found that the less I used my own ego as a barometer for whether something was artistic, the more I leaned into the process of collaboratively making something bigger than the sum of its parts — and the bigger and better the movies became.”
Others, like storyboard artist Sam Tung, are bracing against the same wave with a quiet but unshakable defiance.
Tung, whose credits include “Twisters” and Christopher Nolan’s upcoming adaptation of “The Odyssey,” has spent the last two years tracking the rise of generative tools, not just their capabilities but their implications. As co-chair of the Animation Guild’s AI Committee, he has been on the front lines of conversations about how these technologies could reshape creative labor.
To artists like Tung, the rise of generative tools feels deeply personal. “If you are an illustrator or a writer or whatever, you had to give up other things to take time to develop those skills,” he says. “Nobody comes out of the womb being able to draw or write or act. Anybody who does that professionally spent years honing those skills.”
“Anything I’ve made with AI, I’ve quickly forgotten about. There’s basically nothing I get from putting it on social media, other than the ire of my peers.”
— Sam Tung, storyboard artist on “The Odyssey”
Tung has no interest in handing that over to a machine. “It’s not that I’m scared of it — I just don’t need it,” he says. “If I want to draw something or paint something, I’ll do it myself. That way it’s exactly what I want and I actually enjoy the process. When people tell me they responded to a drawing I did or a short film I made with friends, it feels great. But anything I’ve made with AI, I’ve quickly forgotten about. There’s basically nothing I get from putting it on social media, other than the ire of my peers.”
What unsettles him isn’t just the slickness of AI’s output but how that polish is being used to justify smaller crews and faster turnarounds. “If this is left unchecked, it’s very easy to imagine a worst-case scenario where team sizes and contract durations shrink,” Tung says. “A producer who barely understands how it works might say, ‘Don’t you have AI to do 70% of this? Why do you need a whole week to turn around a sequence? Just press the button that says: MAKE MOVIE.’ ”
At 73, Carter isn’t chasing jobs. His legacy is secure. “If they don’t hire me again, that’s OK,” he says. “I’m not in that game anymore.” He grew up in Hollywood — his father was Jack Lemmon’s longtime publicist and producing partner — and has spent his life watching the industry evolve. Now, he’s witnessing a reckoning unlike any he, or anyone else, has ever imagined.
“I do have concerns about who is developing AI and what their values are,” he says. “What they use all this for is not necessarily something I would approve of — politically, socially, emotionally. But I don’t think I’m in a position to approve or not.”
Earlier this year, the Palisades fire destroyed Carter’s home, taking with it years of paintings and personal artwork. AI, he says, has given him a way to keep creating through the upheaval. “It saved me through the pandemic, and now it’s saving me through the fire,” he says, as if daring the universe to test him again. “It’s like, go ahead, throw something else at me.”
‘Prompt and pray?’ Not so fast
Many in the industry may still be dipping a toe into the waters of AI. Verena Puhm dove in.
The Austrian-born filmmaker studied acting and directing in Munich and Salzburg before moving to Los Angeles, where she built a globe-spanning career producing, writing and developing content for international networks and streamers. Her credits range from CNN’s docuseries “History of the Sitcom” to the German reboot of the cult anthology “Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction” and a naval documentary available on Tubi. More recently, she has channeled that same creative range into a deepening exploration of generative tools.
Puhm first began dabbling with AI while using Midjourney to design a pitch deck, but it wasn’t until she entered a timed generative AI filmmaking challenge at the 2024 AI on the Lot conference — informally dubbed a “gen battle” — that the creative potential of the medium hit her.
“In two hours, I made a little mock commercial,” she remembers, proudly. “It was actually pretty well received and fun. And I was like, Oh, wow, I did this in two hours. What could I do in two days or two weeks?”
What started as experimentation soon became a second act. This summer, Puhm was named head of studio for Dream Lab LA, a new creative arm of Luma AI, which develops generative video tools for filmmakers and creators. There, she’s helping shape new storytelling formats and supporting emerging creators working at the intersection of cinema and technology. She may not be a household name, but in the world of experimental storytelling, she’s fast becoming a key figure.
Verena Puhm, a director, writer and producer, has used generative AI in a number of her projects, says it’s breaking down barriers to entry.
(Jason Armond/Los Angeles Times)
Some critics dismiss AI filmmaking as little more than “prompt and pray”: typing in a few words and hoping something usable comes out. Puhm bristles at the phrase.
“Anybody that says that tells me they’ve never tried it at all, because it is not that easy and simple,” she says. “You can buy a paintbrush at Home Depot for, what, $2? That doesn’t make you a painter. When smartphones first came out, there was a lot of content being made but that didn’t mean everyone was a filmmaker.”
What excites her most is how AI is breaking down the barriers that once kept ambitious ideas out of reach. Luma’s new Modify Video tool lets filmmakers tweak footage after it’s shot, changing wardrobe, aging a character, shifting the time of day, all without reshoots or traditional VFX. It can turn a garage into a spaceship, swap a cloudy sky for the aurora borealis or morph an actor into a six-eyed alien, no green screen required.
“I remember shopping projects around and being told by producers, ‘This scene has to go, that has to go,’ just to keep the budget low. Now everything is open.”
— Verena Puhm, Head of Studio at Dream Lab LA
“It’s such a relief as an artist,” Puhm says. “If there’s a project I’ve been sitting on for six years because I didn’t have a $5 million budget — suddenly there’s no limit. I remember shopping projects around and being told by producers, ‘This scene has to go, that has to go,’ just to keep the budget low. Now everything is open.”
That sense of access resonates far beyond Los Angeles. At a panel during AI on the Lot, “Blue Beetle” director Ángel Manuel Soto reflected on how transformative AI might have been when he was first starting out. “I wish tools like this existed when I wanted to make movies in Puerto Rico, because nobody would lend me a camera,” he said. “Access to equipment is a privilege we sometimes take for granted. I see this helping kids like me from the projects tell stories without going bankrupt — or stealing, which I don’t condone.”
Puhm welcomes criticism of AI but only when it’s informed. “If you hate AI and you’ve actually tested the tools and educated yourself, I’ll be your biggest supporter,” she says. “But if you’re just speaking out of fear, with no understanding, then what are you even basing your opinion on?”
She understands why some filmmakers feel rattled, especially those who, like her, grew up dreaming of seeing their work on the big screen. “I still want to make features and TV series — that’s what I set out to do,” she says. “I hope movie theaters don’t go away. But if the same story I want to tell reaches millions of people on a phone and they’re excited about it, will I really care that it wasn’t in a theater?”
“I just feel like we have to adapt to the reality of things,” she continues. “That might sometimes be uncomfortable, but there is so much opportunity if you lean in. Right now any filmmaker can suddenly tell a story at a high production value that they could have never done before, and that is beautiful and empowering.”
For many, embracing AI boils down to a simple choice: adapt or get cut from the frame.
Hal Watmough, a BAFTA-winning British editor with two decades of experience, first began experimenting with AI out of a mix of curiosity and dread. “I was scared,” he admits. “This thing was coming into the industry and threatening our jobs and was going to make us obsolete.” But once he started playing with tools like Midjourney and Runway, he quickly saw how they could not only speed up the process but allow him to rethink what his career could be.
For an editor used to working only with what he was given, the ability to generate footage on the fly, cut with it immediately and experiment endlessly without waiting on a crew or a shoot was a revelation. “It was still pretty janky at that stage, but I could see the potential,” he says. “It was kind of intoxicating. I started to think, I’d like to start making things that I haven’t seen before.”
After honing his skills with various AI tools, Watmough created a wistful, vibrant five-minute animated short called “LATE,” about an aging artist passing his wisdom to a young office worker. Over two weeks, he generated 2,181 images using AI, then curated and refined them frame by frame to shape the story.
Earlier this year, he submitted “LATE” to what was billed as the world’s first AI animation contest, hosted by Curious Refuge, an online education hub for creative technologists — and, to his delight, he won. The prize included $10,000, a pitch meeting with production company Promise Studios and, as an absurd bonus, his face printed on a potato. But for Watmough, the real reward was the sense that he had found a new creative identity.
“There’s something to the fact that the winner of the first AI animation competition was an editor,” Watmough says. “With the advent of AI, yes, you could call yourself a filmmaker but essentially I’d say most people are editors. You’re curating, selecting, picking what you like — relying on your taste.”
Thanks to AI, he says he’s made more personal passion projects in the past year and a half than during his entire previous career. “I’ll be walking or running and ideas just come. Now I can go home that night and try them,” he says. “None of that would exist without AI. So either something exists within AI or it never exists at all. And all the happiness and fulfillment that comes with it for the creator doesn’t exist either.”
Watmough hasn’t entirely lost his fear of what AI might do to the creative workforce, even as he is energized by what it makes possible. “A lot of people I speak to in film and TV are worried about losing their jobs and I’m not saying the infrastructure roles won’t radically change,” he says. “But I don’t think AI is going to replace that many — if any — creative people.”
What it will do, he says, is raise the bar. “If anyone can create anything, then average work will basically become extinct or pointless. AI can churn out remakes until the cows come home. You’ll have to pioneer to exist.”
He likens the current moment to the birth of cinema more than a century ago — specifically the Lumière brothers’ “Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat,” the 1896 short that famously startled early audiences. In the silent one-minute film, a steam train rumbles toward the camera, growing larger. Some viewers reportedly leaped from their seats, convinced it was about to crash into them.
“People ran out of the theater screaming,” Watmough says. “Now we don’t even think about it. With AI, we’re at that stage again. We’re watching the steam train come into the station and people are either really excited or they’re running out of the theater in fear. That’s where we are, right at the start. And the potential is limitless.”
Then again, he adds with a dry laugh, “I’m an eternal optimist, so take what I say with a grain of salt.”
Welcome to Screen Gab, the spooky newsletter for everyone who loves scares, thrills, tricks and treats.
Happy Halloween! Whether you plan to stay home or don a costume and hit the town, at some point this weekend, it’s worth putting on a movie or show to fit the theme of the season. The great thing is that there’s something for everyone, as our guide to Halloween programming shows. Whether you prefer something kid-friendly like “Is It Cake? Halloween” or something more sinister like the newly released HBO series “It: Welcome to Derry,” which expands Stephen King’s horror universe (more on that below), there’s plenty to choose from. And if you‘re in L.A., film editor Joshua Rothkopf and reporter Mark Olsen have compiled a guide to local theaters hosting screenings of classic horror films like “Black Sabbath” and “Bride of Frankenstein.” (If you can’t snag a ticket, their list also doubles as a great reference for films to watch at home, as many are available to stream.)
If that’s not enough, we have more recommendations that you can add to your queue, including a special episode of a (sadly) recently canceled Apple TV series and the pair of “It” films that led to the creation of “Welcome to Derry.” Additionally, Jovan Adepo, who plays Leroy Hanlon on the prequel series, which dropped its second episode on HBO Max in time for Halloween, spoke to us about some of the real-life themes of horror the show covers.
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Must-read stories you might have missed
Rhea Seehorn stars in the new Apple TV series “Pluribus.”
Forget ‘I’m too old for this’: Women over 60 are redefining action stardom: The growing army of 60-ish women who kick ass, take names and rarely complain about getting too old for anything has been joined by Emma Thompson’s Zoë Boehm in “Down Cemetery Road” and the menopausal punk rockers of “Riot Women.”
That this period comedy, on my best of 2024 list, failed to complete a second season is one of the great television tragedies of this year. (Star and co-creator Noel Fielding stopped showing up partway through production, reportedly due to health issues.) It has nevertheless left us this one extra, excellent, just-released Halloween-appropriate episode. A mysterious creature (see title) has been attacking coaches along the highway, leaving Dick (Fielding), the notorious English highwayman, and his motley crew without anything to rob. Although technically about a criminal, its hero is good-hearted — essentially a version of the Fielding one sees co-hosting “The Great British Baking Show” — and its approach to monsters trends more to understanding than horror. (A recommendation in itself.) Continuing in the All Hallows Eve spirit, you’ll find more paranormal doings in the series’ still-available first season, including witches, warlocks and a cursed coach. And you may want to carry on (and should) to its equally fine twin sister, “Renegade Nell” (Disney+) — another period supernatural comedy about an early 18th century highwayman (or woman, as the case may be), which adds a feminist twist. — Robert Lloyd
Bill Skarsgård as Pennywise in “It: Chapter Two.”
(Brooke Palmer/Warner Bros. Pictures)
“It” and “It: Chapter Two” (HBO Max)
The Halloween season is in full swing, and there are few things more terrifying than a demonic clown with a red balloon. HBO has just launched “It: Welcome to Derry,” the prequel to “It” and “It: Chapter Two,” the recent hit film adaptations of Stephen King’s 1986 epic novel featuring Pennywise, the deadly clown who preys on children and adults. Co-created by Andy Muschietti, who directed the films and directs on the series, the drama is set in the early 1960s in the fictional town of Derry, Maine, and takes on an even more nightmarish quality in delving into the origins of the notorious villain. Bill Skarsgård, who played Pennywise in the films, reprises the role in “Derry.” Before more episodes are released, viewers should get their scare on by revisiting the films or watching them for the first time. The first film is particularly chilling, and Pennywise will give you the shivers. Be afraid. — Greg Braxton
Guest spot
A weekly chat with actors, writers, directors and more about what they’re working on — and what they’re watching
Jovan Adepo as Maj. Leroy Hanlon in HBO’s “It: Welcome to Derry.”
(Brooke Palmer / HBO)
The monster at the center of Stephen King’s “It” remains one of horror’s most terrifying figures. The author’s novel provided readers with the original tale of a group adolescents who battled a demonic clown, but it wasn’t until 1990 that we got an onscreen adaptation via the ABC miniseries that starred Tim Curry as the story’s terrifying villain, Pennywise. His devilish clown was merciless, preying on children and taunting them with bursts of blood, dead loved ones and a frightening set of sharp teeth. And while those things were scary, what made the adaptation horrifying was how it made mundane things like storm drains, old pipes and red balloons appear much more sinister.
Nearly two decades later, the feature films introduced a whole new generation to the terrors of “It,” and now with “Welcome to Derry,” we get a new story that adds more layers and aims to show who or what It really is. The HBO series, which will have a three-season arc, begins in 1962 with the story of the Hanlons, a Black military family that moves to Derry. The patriarch, Air Force Maj. Leroy Hanlon, played by Adepo, is a respected war hero who almost immediately has to battle a different kind of demon: bigotry. It’s a central theme and shows how “these horrors keep haunting us,” according to Barbara Muschietti, who alongside her brother Andy, spoke recently about the series to senior reporter Greg Braxton.
Adepo is no stranger to stories where race and bigotry are explored, having starred in series like Netflix’s “When They See Us,” a dramatization about the Central Park Five, and HBO’s “The Watchmen,” in which he played Hooded Justice. He stopped by Guest Spot this week to talk about the kinds of horrors “Welcome to Derry” portrays, what helped him unwind after filming and how he turns to a pair of TV comedies for comfort. — Maira Garcia
“It” has been adapted for the screen before. How familiar were you with King’s universe and “It” before taking on this role? Had you read the book or watched the films or miniseries?
I hadn’t read the book in the years before, but I was quite familiar with the recent two films, as well as the classic miniseries. Taking on the role of Leroy gave me a special opportunity to dive deeper into the lore and to also explore some of my own choices for how Leroy was portrayed.
“Welcome to Derry” begins by giving us some of the back story for Mike Hanlon’s family — a key character in “It.” In Episode 1, we’re introduced to your character, Leroy Hanlon, Mike’s grandfather, an Air Force major who encounters overt racism almost immediately when arriving on base in Derry. You’ve explored themes of race in previous roles — what was it like to explore it in the context of this show and the time period it’s set in, the ‘60s?
I think it’s the perfect lens through which to tell this story within the context of the era, because it adds another layer of life challenges for the Hanlons. It explores the struggle of dealing with prejudice and oppression among the members of the community, who are being tormented in a completely different way. That dynamic already creates an interesting environment that only deepens when you add the individual obstacles these characters face.
I’m compelled by an idea that this series brings forth: Monsters are terrifying, but the real world — with war, racism, genocide and so forth — is frightening enough. Did that resonate with you and your character at all?
Yes, in fact, I think that idea runs through the veins of a few characters here. I truly think this genre — and what Andy and Barb have brought to this season — beautifully showcases a very relatable experience of fear, one rooted in real historical moments and woven into a much more sensational element. Along with [co-showrunners Jason] Fuchs and [Brad Caleb] Kane, they’ve created space for viewers to connect with characters’ lives before the monster really begins to engage.
Working on such heavy material, how would you unwind after shoots?
I spent a lot of time at home recharging — watching films, exploring my neighborhood on walks with my dog, and so on. Building a routine of going shopping at the market, visiting my butcher shop, and going out to eat with my castmates was also quite relaxing. Most of us lived close to each other, so I saw everyone quite often.
What have you watched recently that you are recommending to everyone you know?
I’m a creature of habit, so on my off days I usually recharge by watching previously released shows or films. I think the last thing I brought up in conversation on set was the HBO show “Animals” [HBO Max].
What’s your go-to “comfort watch,” the movie or TV show you go back to again and again?
Oh, man. Comfort watching, to me, is something I can put on in the background after a long day on set. I’d have to give it to “Family Guy” [Hulu] or “The Office” [Peacock].
President Trump’s favorite musical is, famously, “Les Misérables,” but few fans have been storming the barricades to get into the Kennedy Center this season.
The Washington Post reports that sales for the current season of music, dance and theater at the Washington, D.C., cultural institution have declined dramatically since the president’s inauguration and his subsequent takeover of the Kennedy Center’s leadership.
The Post cites data showing the Kennedy Center has sold only 57% of its tickets from September to mid October, many of which are believed to be comped giveaways. That contrasts with a 93% ticket sale rate through the same period last year.
The venues surveyed include the Opera House, the Concert Hall and the Eisenhower Theater, with performances by the National Symphony Orchestra, touring Broadway musicals and dance troupes. Out of 143,000 possible seats for the current season, 53,000 have not yet sold. When fans have bought tickets, they’ve spent less than half as much money from September to the first half of October 2025 compared with the same time last year — the lowest total since 2018 other than the height of the 2020 pandemic.
After Trump’s election, he appointed Republican diplomat and former State Department spokesperson Richard Grenell to lead the Kennedy Center, whose board elected Trump as its president. The new leadership fired several longtime staffers, and prominent board members and leaders like Ben Folds left the organization.
““I couldn’t be a pawn in that,” Folds told The Times. “Was I supposed to call my homies like Sara Bareilles and say, ‘Hey, do you want to come play here?’”
Artists that do perform at the Kennedy Center have noted a change in the audience. Yasmin Williams, a singer-songwriter who performed in September after a contentious email exchange with Grennell, said that “During my Kennedy Center show on Thursday night, a group of Tr*mp supporters boo’d me when I mentioned Ric Grenell and seemed to be there to intimidate me,” yet “playing that Malcolm X video in that space and forcing this current administration to reckon with the damage they’ve caused, while also promoting joy and the power of music to the audience … this is why I do what I do.” (Kennedy Center spokesperson Roma Daravi told the Post that “This is an absolutely ridiculous claim.”)
Grennell, for his part, said on X that that “We are doing the big things that people want to see. We are seeing a huge change because people are recognizing that they want to be a part of something that is common-sense programming.” In August, Trump announced his picks for Kennedy Center honors, including actor and filmmaker Sylvester Stallone, glam-rockers KISS, singer Gloria Gaynor, country music star George Strait and English actor and comedian Michael Crawford.
“Who are you really? What is real happiness? What do you actually need for happiness?” Rhea Seehorn murmurs.
It’s an otherwise ordinary Wednesday afternoon, steps away from bookshelves stuffed with works like “East of Eden” by John Steinbeck and the “A Court of Thorns and Roses” series by Sarah J. Maas, when she casually lists these big life questions aloud while leaning over a vegan brownie and cup of tea at a small table inside Village Well Books & Coffee in Culver City. I’m still questioning whether I read the street parking signs correctly. But these are queries Seehorn has given hard thought to in recent months.
That’s what happens when you’re headlining a Vince Gilligan show. Existential reckonings are part of the gig.
Seehorn is at least familiar with the deep internal struggles that swirl within Gilligan’s protagonists. For six seasons on “Better Call Saul,” AMC’s hit prequel spinoff to “Breaking Bad” that told the backstory of Walter White’s smarmy lawyer Saul Goodman a.k.a. Jimmy McGill (Bob Odenkirk), Seehorn played Kim Wexler. The fan-favorite type A lawyer with a perfectly-positioned ponytail was McGill/Goodman’s principled but increasingly conflicted girlfriend who got caught up in his elaborate schemes and paid a price for his crimes.
In his first follow-up to the “Breaking Bad” universe, Gilligan opted to forgo revolving another series around a tormented man in favor of one that let the shades of Seehorn’s talent fill the screen.
Gilligan says that in “Better Call Saul,” which he co-created with Peter Gould, he saw in Seehorn what he had observed in Aaron Paul years before on “Breaking Bad” — an actor whose performance propelled a side character, wayward junkie Jesse Pinkman, into a figure that commanded viewers’ attention and became integral to the story.
“Aaron made that character indispensable,” Gilligan says over video call. “It was like déjà vu with Rhea Seehorn. I hate saying I wasn’t aware of her prior to us auditioning and casting her. But she was just fantastic from Day 1. What Peter and I saw in her was a potential to take a show that, at the beginning, was about one character and make it a two-hander. And I just knew very, very quickly in the early life of ‘Better Call Saul’ that I wanted to work with her again after it was over.”
So he set out to create a story where she was No. 1 on the call sheet.
How did Seehorn process that news?
“I just cried,” she says.
It’s not, as some may have hoped, a Kim Wexler spinoff — though, she’s still open to that: “I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Anything. A series. A film. A Staples commercial,” she says.
Rhea Seehorn as Carol in Apple TV’s “Pluribus.”
(Apple TV)
“Pluribus” has been a tightly-guarded project for Apple TV with a strict embargo on details that makes it difficult to provide a lot of context to its premise. Here’s what can be said: Seehorn plays Carol, a fantasy romance author who, despite a successful career and seemingly loving relationship with her partner, is described as “the most miserable person on Earth.” After a signal from space changes the world in a significant way, she must save humankind from happiness. The nine-episode drama premieres with two episodes on Nov. 7; new episodes will be released weekly after that.
For a while, Seehorn only had the first script to make her assessments about the world Gilligan was building. She eventually got her hands on two more before 2023’s dual Hollywood strikes kicked in. When she finished reading through them, one thought came to mind: “‘Wow, this is a lot of me,’” she says, launching into laughter. “He had warned me — ‘You’re going to be in almost every scene’ — but then you read it and you’re like, ‘Oh … oh.’”
Careful to be as vague as possible, she continues: “I can’t spoil it. There’s a lot of time I spend completely on my own. I’m not giving away anything am I? Make sure I’m not!” Aside from the way she has to be coy about the series, she’s appealingly unguarded in her enthusiasm for the journey it sent her on as an actor.
“‘Better Call Saul’ was its own animal, but it had the mothership,” she says. “With this, in our conversations, it felt like Vince wanted to push things to the limit — it’s genre-defying, tone-defying. It’s hilarious and then gut-wrenchingly upsetting. It’s scary in a variety of ways. It really makes you think: What would you do in this situation?”
Seeking to playfully lean into the show’s interest in exploring happiness and the human condition, in scheduling our meet-up I asked that Seehorn pick a location that makes her happy, which led us to this bookstore near her home. “I buy books constantly,” she says. Her most recent purchase was Rachel Kushner’s spy thriller “Creation Lake.” But lately, she’s been prioritizing William T. Harper’s book, “Eleven Days in Hell: The 1974 Carrasco Prison Siege at Huntsville, Texas,” which chronicles the true story of the standoff between inmates and law enforcement. At the time of this sit-down, Seehorn is days away from beginning production in Texas on a film adaptation of the book that will also star Taylor Kitsch and Diego Luna.
She lights up as the conversation veers into the stuff she watched to unwind while shooting “Pluribus”: “I’m obsessed with ‘Chicken Shop Date,’” she says. “Do you watch? Can we please use this article to get me on that show? This is my campaign.”
Rhea Seehorn, who stars in the new Apple TV series “Pluribus,” says the show is genre-defying: “It’s hilarious and then gut-wrenchingly upsetting. It’s scary in a variety of ways. It really makes you think: What would you do in this situation?”
(Anthony Avellano / For The Times)
She wrapped production on “Pluribus” last December. Since then, she‘s shot an indie film, “Sender,” with “Severance’s” Britt Lower, had a brief family vacation and helped the eldest of her two stepsons get settled in for his first year of college. They’re the kind of life moments, she says, that feed into those big questions discussed earlier and what the show confronts.
“It’s about this reckoning — a big exploration of who you are. It got me thinking about how we handle really difficult emotions,” Seehorn says. “There was a constant through line for me about this feeling of anxiety that we all know. When we have those nightmares where you’re running around telling everyone that the barn is on fire and they all keep saying, ‘It’s fine.’ And you’re screaming that it’s not.
“You find yourself thinking, how do I measure success?” she continues. “About everything — relationships, career, talent, ambition. There’s reasons we make armor, sometimes long-term, sometimes short-term. There are choices that are survival skills, that are good for you at one time, that later are no longer the crutches and tools they used to be. The performance Carol is giving at the beginning — where she hates the life she’s living and questions the people who like her work because it’s not impressive enough — Vince and I had some deep-dive talks about that as people in the arts.”
Of course, the philosophy of self and purpose and happiness was not something Seehorn considered much while growing up. Deborah Rhea Seehorn — she went by Debbie until her early teens — was born in Norfolk, Va., but spent her childhood in places like Arizona and Japan because of her father’s job as an agent for the Naval Investigative Service, later known as NCIS when it added “Criminal” to its name. “My dad was not Mark Harmon,” she jokes. After her parents divorced when she was 12, the family stayed in the Virginia Beach area.
On paper, Seehorn wasn’t primed for a life of acting. But she felt a creative pull: Her mother did musical theater in high school; her father and paternal grandmother painted. And Seehorn and her sister began sketching from a young age. Seehorn initially had ambitions of pursuing a career in design or art — she majored in painting while a student at George Mason University. She thought maybe she’d land a job doing exhibition design or art restoration at the Smithsonian or one of the other museums around town. But when she was required to take an elective course her freshman year, she saw an opportunity to try something that otherwise felt out of reach to her.
“At the time, at least to me, American television and film had people who looked like models,” she says. “I didn’t. I thought I would get made fun of mercilessly if I said I wanted to be an actor. It felt the same as saying I wanted to be a supermodel. But I knew immediately, with the first class I took, that acting was it for me.”
It was taught by Lynnie Raybuck, a teacher and actor who remains a mentor to Seehorn. This is where — in life and in this conversation — it becomes clear Seehorn revels in the technique of acting. She grows animated referencing Practical Aesthetics, the acting technique developed by David Mamet and William H. Macy for the Atlantic Theater Company, and detailing her fondness for in-depth script analysis.
“To me, it blew my mind the first time I realized that it isn’t magic fairy dust on some people — that they’re just talented and you’re not,” she says. “That there is a way to work toward that. As soon as somebody said there was a way to study that and there was a way to get closer and closer to inviting that audience in to go with you on a journey and make it believable, I just was like, ‘Well, this is what I’m doing for a living.’”
Rhea Seehorn starred as Kim Wexler opposite Bob Odenkirk’s Saul Goodman/Jimmy McGill in “Better Call Saul.”(Greg Lewis/AMC/Sony Pictures Television)
She knew it wouldn’t pay the bills right away. She ushered, worked the box office, read stage directions for new plays — she had days jobs, too, like working at TGI Fridays — “By the way, they just offered me suspenders since I never got them.” (She was underage and unable to serve alcohol at the time, so she was a hostess who did expo for the waiters.)
She eventually landed in New York, working at Playwright Horizons, an off-Broadway theater. After a few years, the pull of L.A. led her west. She was cast in the ABC sitcom “I’m With Her,” starring Teri Polo and loosely based on writer Chris Henchy’s marriage to Brooke Shields. It didn’t last long, but other roles would come along with varying degrees of steadiness. She had a recurring role as an assistant DA in the legal dramedy “Franklin & Bash” and played the best friend of Whitney Cummings’ fictionalized version of herself in NBC’s “Whitney,” which ran for two seasons from 2011 to 2013.
Then, as “Better Call Saul” was coming together, the casting directors working on the project were familiar with Seehorn, who had auditioned for them many times over the years, and what she could deliver.
“The first time I met her was for the producer sessions and there were three actresses who were reading for Kim with me,” Odenkirk says by phone. “The other two actresses were absolutely fantastic. But Rhea and I had chemistry, and we all knew it. We all felt it. It was undeniable and it was easy.”
She was cast as Kim, before a last name was even assigned to the character, and with no inkling for how essential she would become to the story. And it quickly becomes clear how she dissects her characters. (Both Odenkirk and Gilligan, without prompting, say that her scripts were often heavily marked up with scribbled notes, highlights and tabs.)
“I only have one line of dialogue in that first episode, other than the intercom,” Seehorn says, still able to recite it by memory. “They told me later it wasn’t on purpose that I have almost no contractions in the first couple of episodes and other people do. And I was like, should I ask them if it’s OK to elide ‘want to’ to ‘wanna’ or ‘do not’ to ‘don’t.’ But then I was like, ‘No! What if I just try to figure out who talks like this?’ It started to be this thing of ‘Who is this controlled person? And why would she be this controlled?’ She became so important to me because I had largely built her out of subtext and this private part of her that mostly the audience was my biggest confidant.”
Rhea Seehorn on starting her acting career: “I thought I would get made fun of mercilessly if I said I wanted to be an actor. It felt the same as saying I wanted to be a supermodel. But I knew immediately, with the first class I took, that acting was it for me.” (Anthony Avellano/For The Times)
Odenkirk admiringly references Seehorn’s level of attention and their shared approach in defending the emotional intelligence of their characters. He notes the predicament the “Better Call Saul” writers sometimes faced in placing Jimmy/Saul and Kim, who knew each other so well, in dramatic situations that ordinarily would require more obliviousness or willing unawareness.
“When Kim and Jimmy were together, there were times — not many, but a few — where one of them was lying to the other one,” he says. “And it was always a challenge. We’d be like, ‘Saul knows he’s being lied to’ or ‘Kim knows Saul is lying.’ And we’d have to find a way around it. Or we’d have to let go — she’s [Rhea] good at that too … I just love her seriousness of purpose. And her love for losing herself in the dream.”
It’s why he’s not surprised Gilligan wanted her to lead his next series.
“She is formidable in nature,” Odenkirk says. “Her strength on screen is great, her dynamic range is incredible. She has the strength of character of a leading man — I’m just going to say it. She has the backbone and the steely determination of a leading man.”
In fact, when the idea for “Pluribus” began tugging at Gilligan years ago, in the midst of “Better Call Saul,” he initially envisioned it having a male protagonist.
“But I would take these long walks during our lunch breaks in the writers room and, I can’t remember when exactly, but it dawned on me on one of those walks that I really like this young lady, Rhea Seehorn,” he says. “She’s a really good actor. And I started thinking, ‘Why does the main character of my next show have to be a guy? ‘ I was about to say I kind of tailored the role to Rhea, but the truth is, I don’t know if that’s true. Rhea has so many strengths as an actor, I know she can do anything I threw at her — just like I knew many years before that Bryan Cranston could do anything. She makes it look easy.”
When Seehorn and I speak again a few weeks after our initial meeting, she is video-calling from a nondescript room during a break from production on “Eleven Days.” She has already fiddled through a number of jigsaw puzzles and “Paint by Numbers” — her activities of choice when she needs to turn down her actor brain — in the time since we last spoke; she reaches for the painting of plants she recently completed as proof. We eventually return to the idea of happiness. What makes her happy right now?
“It is my family and my friends, but it’s also my work,” she says. “Carol, on paper, has many of the things that I want, that many of us want. Success at work, especially in a career in the arts. But she won’t believe the hype. Her mocking of her work and her fans is just a mocking of herself. It’s self-loathing — like she’s trying to beat people to the punch.
“For me, I realized I fully own and will not be embarrassed about the fact that a third leg on that stool for my happiness is my work,” she continues. “It is intrinsically a part of who I am and I am a better mom to my stepsons and a better partner to my fiance because I get to do what I love.”
And she’s finding new ways to do more of it. She has become an executive producer on Katja Meier’s Swiss TV show “$hare” and made her episodic directorial debut with “Better Call Saul” — “I would like to try to direct again. There’s a couple of projects and people I’m talking to about directing on their show. People are like, ‘Why didn’t you direct the first season [of ‘Pluribus’]?’ I’m like,’I was trying to remember to brush my teeth with all I had going on.’”
She references the children’s book “Archibald’s Next Big Thing,” written by actor Tony Hale, whom she shared screen time with on “Veep.” It’s about embracing the journey you’re on.
“You’re constantly moving your goal post and all it is doing is just s— on yourself and where you are now,” she says. “Carol missed things until they were taken away. She could have stopped judging everything and judging herself.”
It was a reminder to embrace the freedom to think outside the box with her performance. The first episode is a high-wire balancing act; at one point, there’s a 12-minute stretch that has her character twisting through confusion, fear, grief, anger and frustration like pretzel dough being looped into a knot — on her own, yet not alone.
“Everything made me nervous about Carol,” she says. “As soon as Vince sent me the script, I was like, ‘This is bananas.’ You’re on your way to work and you just think, ‘What if I just took this off-ramp and I fled the scene and it would be all over?’ But then you’re like, ‘You know what, I’m gonna show up and do my best. Believe me, I did some takes that I’m sure were embarrassing, but I was just like, ‘When else are you going to try? The time is now.”
Septuagenarian TV star Kelsey Grammer is still growing his family, most recently with the arrival of his newest child.
The beloved “Cheers” and “Frasier” actor, who turned 70 in February, is now a father of eight. Grammer announced he and wife Kayte Walsh welcomed their fourth child together during his appearance on the “Pod Meets World” podcast.”
We just had our fourth one, it just became eight kids,” he said during the podcast episode, published Monday. “Christopher, that’s [who] just joined the family.”
The Emmy-winning TV veteran said his newest son arrived “three days” before the episode taped and joked with podcast hosts Rider Strong, Danielle Fishel and Will Friedle that he has “clusters” of children of different ages.
Grammer and Walsh, 46, married in 2011 and also share a teenage daughter and two sons. People reported in June that the couple was expecting a child again, publishing photos of the two taking a stroll through London.
The five-time Emmy winner has been married four times. Before Walsh, he was married to dancer-model Camille Donatacci. He was also briefly married to Leigh-Anne Csuhany, and dance instructor Doreen Alderman before that. His seven other children, the eldest being actor Spencer Grammer, hail from those previous relationships.
The sitcom star became a grandfather in October 2011, when his son Spencer welcomed a son with ex-husband James Hesketh.
In the past, Grammer has been open about the “beauty of being an older dad.” He told the Guardian in 2018 that raising children later in life he feels fortunate to “get a chance to kinda try it again. That’s been a real gift.”
The actor announced the arrival of his eighth child while promoting his book “Karen: A Brother Remembers,” released in May, about the brutal murder of his sister at age 18 and his lifelong battle with grief. During the episode, Fishel asked the actor how much his children knew about his late sister.
He explained his older children have varying degrees of knowledge about his sister, while his younger kids will have to wait to learn more and read his book. “Some of the stuff is too brutal, they don’t really need to be exposed to that yet,” he said.
Throughout the podcast episode, Grammer also recalled the proceedings in his sister’s case and learning how to process the loss while delivering laughs on TV.
“I didn’t walk around talking about it a lot, it’s been with me since the day it happened,” he said.
Timothy West died last November and now his wife Prunella Scales has tragically passed away. The pair spoke fondly of one another in their final ever interview
11:40, 28 Oct 2025Updated 11:40, 28 Oct 2025
Timothy West and Prunella Scales in a BBC Breakfast interview in 2023(Image: BBC)
Prunella Scales and Timothy West spoke of their deep love for another in their final interview together. The EastEnders actor revealed that he had spotted a potential sign of his wife Prunella’s dementia years before her diagnosis was confirmed.
In November, it was confirmed that Timothy – known for his roles in shows like EastEnders – had died at the age of 90. Prunella’s death was announced today, just months after her husband’s sad passing.
In what is believed to be one of his last interviews, conducted in 2023, Timothy opened up about his wife Prunella’s battle with dementia. The couple appeared on BBC Breakfast for an interview together, in what would be their last appearance on TV.
Prunella, who is most recognised for her role as Sybil Fawlty in the classic sitcom Fawlty Towers, received her dementia diagnosis in 2014. However, Timothy suggested that he first noticed signs of the condition as early as 2001.
Reflecting on the moment he first observed his wife’s decline, he shared: “I came to see a play that Pru was doing in Greenwich. I went to see the first night and it was good, much enjoyed by the audience, and then I went to see it again a bit later on and I thought ‘Pru’s not … it’s strange. She’s not totally with it.'”
Despite these early signs, her official dementia diagnosis didn’t come until over a decade later. Timothy recalled: “We went to see a specialist who just said ‘I’m sorry this is just something that happens to you when you get older’. It’s not going to get any easier but you can cope with it. We manage.”
Despite the tough landscape they found themselves in, Prunella said: “I have got to know him better and better and better.”
Timothy added: “I know that things are going to change a little bit, but it has been a long time and we have managed pretty well really. I don’t think we ever think ‘oh no.'”
Prunella then shared: “I have been asked to live the rest of my life with somebody I respect very much and agree with a lot of things and argue with about a lot of things quite happily.”
During a chat with the BBC, which was conducted prior to the launch of Timothy’s book, he was questioned about his wife Prunella’s vascular dementia diagnosis. He said that “somehow” they have “coped” over the years.
“Pru doesn’t really think about it,” he added. Timothy and Pru have been husband and wife since 1963. The couple have two sons together, actors Samuel West and Joseph West. Their family also includes Timothy’s daughter Juliet West from a previous marriage.
The question, typically posed with New York condescension, fails to recognize the obvious reality that L.A. is a city of actors. True, most of them are here to make their names on-screen, but the talent pool rivals those of more established theater capitals. Don’t bother, however, trying to convince those denizens of New York and London who cling to old stereotypes of L.A., perhaps to compensate for their own inferior weather.
Southern California, of course, boasts some of the most prestigious playhouses in the country. The Mark Taper Forum, Pasadena Playhouse, South Coast Repertory, La Jolla Playhouse and the Old Globe are all recipients of the Regional Theatre Tony Award. The Geffen Playhouse, once considered the entertainment industry’s local theater, has entered a new era of bold vision and integrity under the leadership of playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney. It would surprise no one if the Geffen Playhouse is similarly honored in the next few years.
East West Players, the Latino Theater Company, Ebony Repertory Theatre and Native Voices at the Autry reflect the cultural, ethnic and racial diversity of a majority-minority city. The avant-garde is admittedly not L.A.’s strong suit, but REDCAT and CAP UCLA have filled the breach hosting interdisciplinary performance work from all over the world.
The Getty Villa’s annual outdoor classical theater production treats the canonical treasures of ancient Greece and Rome not with kid gloves but with an exploratory 21st century spirit. And A Noise Within has cultivated in its loyal audience an understanding that the classical repertory exists in the present tense and can speak directly to us today.
The stage is still the basis for acting training, and there comes a time when even the most successful film and TV actors want to return to their roots. Those with civic consciences are happy to tread the boards close to home. When Tom Hanks chose to play Falstaff in Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles’ production “Henry IV,” he did so at an outdoor venue, the Japanese Garden on the West Los Angeles VA campus, that was only a short commute from his own backyard. Annette Bening, a stalwart champion of L.A. theater, has notably performed at the Mark Taper Forum, the Geffen Playhouse and UCLA’s Freud Playhouse.
Beyond the A-listers, there’s a vast population of working actors hungry for opportunities to hone their craft. It’s to satisfy this need that L.A. has built up an extensive array of small, shoestring companies. This scene is decentralized, dispersed within an uncoordinated sprawl of regional fiefdoms, but the independent spirit has endowed many of these companies with astonishing capacities for survival.
Indeed, it’s this network of 99-seat theaters — those houses with 99 seats or fewer — that are the lifeblood of the local theater scene. The cultural landscape would be unimaginable without Rogue Machine Theatre, the Fountain Theatre, Echo Theater Company and Boston Court Pasadena. The resilience, imagination and integrity of these small companies have demonstrated that heart matters more than size.
L.A. is indisputably a theater town, but a theater town that operates by its own rules and urban logic, neither of which is easy for an outsider to crack. What follows is a curated list of some of the most essential venues in the city and surrounding region. Not meant to be comprehensive, this compilation tilts toward companies that have been active in recent seasons and have a dedicated home. Nomadic ensembles and those that have been dormant or less prominent in the post-pandemic recovery phase have been excluded from this selection. But the ecology of L.A. theater is ever-changing and ever-adapting, calling for updates and new classifications. Stay tuned for future lists and supplemental guides.
Editorial use only Mandatory Credit: Photo by ITV/Shutterstock (1414385c) Tony Adams and Noele Gordon ‘Crossroads’ TV Programme. – 1978Credit: Rex
BELOVED Brit soap actor Tony Adams who starred in Crossroads has died aged 84 with tributes pouring in.
The legend died at Sussex County Hospital in Brighton on Saturday, with his wife Christine by his side.
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Tony Adams, who starred in Crossroads, has died aged 84Credit: PATributes have poured in for the beloved Brit soap actorCredit: PA
Anthony Sawley Adams was born in Anglesey, Wales, in 1940 and later trained as an actor at the Italia Conti theatre school.
Following performances on the stage, he made his name as Dr Neville Bywaters in the 1970s soap General Hospital and appeared in the Dr Who series The Green Death.
In 1978, he took on the role of accountant Adam Chance in soap Crossroads – the role for which he became best known.
The series ended in 1988 after more than 4,500 episodes, with Adams staying until the end.
Welcome to Screen Gab, the newsletter for everyone who wore out their remote’s fast-forward button while watching the Season 9 finale of “Love Is Blind.”
In the wake of the news that Lauren Speed-Hamilton and Cameron Hamilton, the inaugural couple to get engaged on “Love is Blind,” welcomed their first child earlier this month (raising the already high bar their rom-com coded relationship had set), the latest season of Netflix’s addictive and maddening social experiment concluded with a dramatic first in the reality franchise’s history. And while the “Sparkle Megan” nickname reveal early in the season still feels like the biggest shock to our system, the outcomes of this season’s weddings will hopefully make next week’s reunion special interesting to watch. But maybe our “Love Is Blind” correspondent Kaitlyn Huamani was onto something when she chose to add some intrigue to her binge of the show. She leaned into the mystery the singles experience in the pods by obscuring her screen and strictly listening to the participants during that critical phase of the experiment to test her assessment of the matches.
But don’t fret, lovers of love. “Nobody Wants This” is back for its second season to help maintain Adam Brody’s grip on GIF-able kisses. For the uninitiated, the L.A.-set series revolves around the will-they/won’t-they relationship between Joanne (Kristen Bell), a woman who often regales about her single life on a podcast, who falls in love with Noah (Brody), a progressive rabbi. But can their relationship make it past hurdles that include their careers, family and religion? The new season takes us on their ongoing journey to figure that out. But there’s another complicated relationship coming into focus too. Joanne’s sister and podcast co-host, Morgan (Justine Lupe), has a boundary-pushing friendship with Noah’s married brother, Sasha (Timothy Simons), that continues to cause tension with his longtime wife, Esther (Jackie Tohn) — and unlocks some other issues about their union in process. Simons stopped by Guest Spot to discuss his character’s approach to marriage and platonic friendships.
Also in this week’s Screen Gab, our recommendations are a light comedy caper that’s a spinoff of the long-running British crime series “Death in Paradise,” and a documentary that gives an intimate look at the life and career of award-winning Deaf actor Marlee Matlin.
ICYMI
Must-read stories you might have missed
Actor Aidan Delbis, photographed in Beverly Hills in October. Delbis has a breakout role in Yorgos Lanthimos’ upcoming “Bugonia.”
Recommendations from the film and TV experts at The Times
Kris Marshall as Humphrey Goodman and Zahra Ahmadi as DS Esther Williams in “Beyond Paradise.”
(Joss Barrett / BritBox / Red Planet Pictures)
“Beyond Paradise” (BritBox)
The third season of this spinoff from the island-set “Death in Paradise” has arrived. Following tall, awkward detective inspector Humphrey Goodman (Kris Marshall), transplanted from the Caribbean back to a small seaside town in Devon, England, trading blue skies for gray, it’s the coziest of cozy mysteries. Comedy and romance thread their way among its apparently impossible murders, always solved with a sudden inspiration in the final minutes of an episode. Sally Bretton plays Martha, Humphrey’s possibly permanent fiancee, who has moved her cafe to larger quarters; they’re still hoping to foster a child. Meanwhile, Martha’s previous fiance, Archie (Jamie Bamber), a well-heeled wine merchant, has crept back into the story, projecting a vibe of “I’m not your rival, rival” toward Humphrey. (I don’t trust him.) At the police station, in an old church, we find Zahra Ahmadi as Sgt. Esther Williams (not awkward), Dylan Llewellyn as PC Kelby Hartford (a puppy dog), and the great Felicity Montagu (known for playing Alan Partridge’s long-suffering assistant Lynne) as office manager Margo, uninhibited. Watch with a cup of something warm, with a shot of something stronger. — Robert Lloyd
Marlee Matlin in “Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore.”
(Courtesy of Sundance Institute)
“Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore” (PBS.org)
She didn’t set out to be a groundbreaker or an activist, but Matlin became both. This intimate documentary directed by Shoshannah Stern (who is Deaf like Matlin) that premiered at Sundance earlier this year provides a showcase for a talented woman whose star rose quickly, thanks to a breakout performance in 1986’s “Children of a Lesser God.” The role won her an Oscar, making her the youngest person to receive the actress award at 21 — a distinction she still holds — and the first Deaf performer to win an Academy Award. (Her “CODA” co-star Troy Kotsur would become the second, 35 years later.) The film examines her upbringing in a hearing family; how a meeting with Henry Winkler led to a lifelong friendship and a path to Hollywood; and how she became a spokesperson and activist for the Deaf community after her Oscar win. (Matlin lobbied Congress for closed captioning on televisions; the first time she watched “The Wizard of Oz” with captions, she says, was a “revelation.”) While she garnered success, she struggled to get more acting roles despite her Oscar win, but more came over time, including parts in “Picket Fences,” “Seinfeld” and, later, “The West Wing.” The film also details her battle with addiction and leaving an abusive relationship with actor William Hurt, her “Children” co-star. However, what makes the film unique is how it places its Deaf subject first, largely using sign language and captions to communicate to viewers. It’s an inclusive look at one of America’s most inspiring actors. — Maira Garcia
Guest spot
A weekly chat with actors, writers, directors and more about what they’re working on — and what they’re watching
Timothy Simons as Sasha and Justine Lupe as Morgan in Season 2 of “Nobody Wants This.”
(Netflix)
Can men and women be just friends? It’s a question that has long been dissected, debated and downplayed by couples and friends — and in plenty of movies and TV shows. “Nobody Wants This,” the Netflix romantic comedy, offers its own complex and controversial portrayal of such a dynamic. While the show swirls around the hurdles in the love journey of its main characters — Joanne (Bell) and Noah (Brody) — the relationship triangle that’s been brewing between its supporting players comes more sharply into focus in Season 2, now streaming. As Sasha, Noah’s brother who is played by Timothy Simons, tries to place better boundaries with Joanne’s sister, Morgan (Lupe), their friendship places a strain on his marriage to wife Esther (Tohn), leading to more hard truths. Simons stopped by Guest Spot to discuss what interests him about exploring a lived-in marriage at a breaking point, his go-to L.A. spots for a perfect day and the unconventional movie picks on his comfort-watch roster. — Yvonne Villarreal
The season dives into the tough decisions or sacrifices people make when being part of a relationship, and the potential long-term resentments or buried feelings that may resurface later. In this challenging time in Sasha and Esther’s marriage, we get more insight into what those issues are for them. What intrigues you about exploring the rough patches of a lived-in relationship?
I think there’s something interesting about examining those challenges for both actor and audience because it reflects broadly what a lot of people go through as they age in a relationship. People grow and change and can learn to grow and change together, and it’s hard to ask a question like, “Would I choose this person or this life if I met them now,” because what if the answer is no? That’s a rough one to face. Falling in love is somewhat easy, but staying in love is hard. Specific answers to Esther and Sasha aside, I think it’s interesting for an audience to grapple with that question, cause they’ve probably asked some form of it in their real lives.
The bond between Sasha and Morgan has been controversial from the start, with viewers wondering if it was going to evolve into an affair or remain a questionable approach to a platonic relationship. What do you think is going on there and what has it revealed to you about Sasha and what he’s seeking or lacking at this stage in his life? Are there things Sasha and Morgan do or discuss that would be a hard no for you as a married person?
I think that there is a kinship with Morgan and Sasha that, despite very different upbringings, is based on a similar worldview and station in their respective families. I think they get each other in a lot of ways despite not fitting in with most of the world. They are misfits and I think they connect in that. As long as the communication is good and boundaries aren’t crossed, finding someone to discuss issues or seek advice from, I don’t think is a betrayal.
The show is set in L.A. What are three go-to spots you’d recommend to an out-of-towner for the perfect day in L.A.?
Oh man. A lot of ways to go here, but taking a hike in Elysian Park and then going to Jitlada and Jumbo’s Clown Room would be a fun day for everyone. I think with those three you get a wonderful cross-section about what makes the city so rad to live in day-to-day.
You appeared in the final season of “The Handmaid’s Tale” as loathsome Commander Bell. When I spoke with the showrunners, they said when they conceived that character, they used your “Veep” character, the incompetent and insufferable Jonah Ryan, as a model. What’s it like to be synonymous with a character like Jonah and to see how his name gets invoked in discussions of both fictional and real life matters of governance?
Hopefully I can convince people that I’m not as big of a scumbag in real life as those characters, and I love that I got to be a part of something that people hold as fondly in their hearts as I do. That was an incredible experience and a wonderful ensemble of writers, actors and crew all working together. It’s wild, though, to live in a world where Jonah Ryan seems somewhat aspirational.
What have you watched recently that you are recommending to everyone you know?
It’s horror movie season, so I’ve been recommending everyone watch “Pieces”(1982) [AMC+], which is my favorite slasher. A truly wild film with the best ending to any horror movie I’ve ever seen (and that includes “Sleepaway Camp” [Peacock, Prime Video, Tubi]). Also, no surprise here that I’m quite high on “One Battle After Another,” which I’ve seen three times and will go back for a fourth cause I haven’t been able to see it in VistaVision yet.
What’s your go-to “comfort watch,” the movie or TV show you go back to again and again?
Comfort films are an odd thing for me because I find myself rewatching movies like “Sicario” [Peacock] and “Zero Dark Thirty” [Paramount+], which you can’t argue are comforting in their subject matter. But they are so perfectly constructed, shot and performed that it’s comforting to watch them.
A few months ago, my younger daughter, Darby, and I were settling into our seats at the local AMC. As the previews rolled, she gasped. “I know that voice,” she said. “That’s Aidan. Mom, that’s Aidan.”
I looked up just in time to see a familiar shock of brown curls. It was indeed Aidan Delbis, former member of the Falcon Players at Crescenta Valley High School in La Crescenta, a kid I had seen perform alongside my daughter in countless student plays.
Only now he was seated at a kitchen table with Jesse Plemons and Emma Stone as the words “Bugonia” and then “directed by Yorgos Lanthimos” flashed across the screen.
“Did you not know?” I asked my daughter. CV is a fine public school with a good theater program, but it isn’t exactly an incubator for nepo babies and aspiring stars. That one of their own had stepped off last year’s graduation stage and into a major film production should have been very big news long before a trailer hit theaters.
“No,” she said, furiously messaging various friends. “But now they will.”
Now they will indeed. When he joined the cast of “Bugonia,” Delbis didn’t just become a part of Lanthimos’ highly anticipated remake of Jang Joon-hwan’s 2003 black comedy “Save the Green Planet!” He also entered the mythology of which Hollywood dreams are made: A 17-year old sends in his first-ever open-call submission and lands a major role in a very big movie.
With a script by Will Tracy and obvious Oscar potential, “Bugonia” had its world premiere in August at this year’s Venice Film Festival before launching onto the festival circuit, including screenings in Toronto and New York, in preparation for its release this Friday. A slightly absurdist, darkly funny thriller with political undertones, it revolves around the kidnapping of a pharmaceutical company’s CEO, Michelle (Stone), by wild-eyed conspiracy theorist Teddy (Plemons) and his loyal cousin Don (Delbis).
From left, Emma Stone, Aidan Delbis and Jesse Plemons in the movie “Bugonia.”
(Atsushi Nishijima / Focus Features)
Teddy believes Michelle is an alien sent to destroy Earth. Don believes in Teddy. Though he falls in with Teddy’s plans, he often questions them, serving as a continual reminder that even within Teddy’s paranoid view of the universe, there is such a thing as going too far. Don is, in many ways, the heart of the film.
He is also, like the actor who plays him, autistic.
Delbis — who chooses to self-describe as autistic rather than neurodivergent — is not someone who has long nursed dreams of stardom. He took drama classes all through high school, but it wasn’t until his junior year, Delbis says, “that I started to get more into the process. I found the general process of acting, of understanding and investing in different personalities, to be fun and sometimes scary.”
Still, he says, “I wasn’t really sure that I wanted it to be my main career. But it so happened that this happened while I was in high school, and here we are.”
Here is the Four Seasons on a very rainy October afternoon where Delbis, now 19, has just finished his first solo photo shoot and is sitting, fortified by Goldfish crackers (his go-to-snack), for his first long one-on-one interview. He went to some of the film festivals and just returned from “Bugonia’s” London premiere, where he signed autographs on the red carpet and enjoyed flying first class. His parents, Katy and David Delbis, are seated nearby, as is his access and creative coach, Elaine Hall.
Delbis is a tall, good-natured young man who speaks with a distinctive cadence and in an unwaveringly calm tone. Aside from a habit of repeating himself as he searches for what he wants to say next, he seems more comfortable discussing his experience with filmmaking than many of the dozens of more experienced actors I have interviewed in this very hotel over the years.
“We should try to be more empathetic to people with different worldviews because you never really know what those people are going through,” Delbis says. “The movie feels very relevant to that theme.”
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
“It all started,” he says, “when my mom was friends with this agent, April, and one day she sent Mom an audition that seemed pretty promising, so I submitted for that. And they really liked it and called me back.”
It actually started a bit further back than that. With Plemons and Stone already cast, Lanthimos had decided that he wanted a nonprofessional actor to play Don.
“We went really wide in trying to find someone really special,” the Greek-born director of “The Favourite” and “Poor Things” says in a phone interview. “With these two experienced actors, I wanted to bring in a different dynamic. As we looked at people, I felt that the character would be more interesting if he was neurodivergent.”
Casting director Jennifer Venditti put out an open call, which April Smallwood of Spotlight Development saw and sent to Delbis’ mother, Katy.
“A happy-go-lucky young man, neurodivergent — it practically described Aidan,” Katy says in a later interview. La Crescenta may not be an industry hub, but, like many in L.A., the Delbis family has a Hollywood connection. Aidan’s older brother, Tristan (who is also neurodivergent), works at a movie theater; father David is about to retire after years at the Writers Guild Health Fund; and Katy, a self-described “creative,” has done some acting herself. But no one saw film-acting as a potential career for Aidan, who was set to take a gap year after high school. And, Katy says, she had no idea what sort of movie it was for. “It said for a ‘big film,’ but they always say that.”
She thought of it a bit like the time Delbis, a member of the high school track team, decided he also wanted to try out for basketball. “As I drove him to the school,” Katy said, “I told him that he might not get on since there were a lot of kids who had been playing basketball for years, which he had not. He said, ‘Mom, I just want to see what it’s like.’”
Now Delbis wanted to see what it would be like to audition for a “big film.”
Aidan Delbis in the movie “Bugonia.”
(Atsushi Nishijima / Focus Features)
He had recently performed the Vincent Price monologue from “Thriller” for the school talent show, which Katy filmed on her phone, so Smallwood submitted that. Venditti called Smallwood the next day and met with Delbis over Zoom. Thus began a monthslong process of meetings, rehearsals and auditions.
“We focused on him right away,” Venditti says. “He seemed to have it all. And he was very committed.”
“I was really unaware of how big a project it was,” Delbis said. “I had never seen a film by Yorgos.”
In March, Lanthimos, Stone and Plemons were in L.A. for the Oscars, so they all met with Delbis and came away impressed.
Lanthimos thought of casting a neurodivergent actor in a part because it would bring a natural clarity and unfiltered unpredictability to the role. He didn’t consider it any more challenging than working with any other actor. And when he met Delbis, Lanthimos says, “I just thought: That’s him.”
“Just from watching that first tape, you could see there was something so magnetic about him,” said Stone during a recent phone interview. (She is also a producer on the film.) “Don is the audience’s window, the one who can see through the charade.”
Still, there were many more steps to take.
“It’s a big leap for any nonprofessional,” Stone says. “It’s a big part in what is essentially a three-hander.”
From left, director Yorgos Lanthimos, Emma Stone, Aidan Delbis and Jesse Plemons at the Venice Film Festival, where “Bugonia” had its world premiere in August.
(Alessandra Tarantino / Invision / AP)
For an autistic actor, it’s an even bigger leap. As talented as Delbis might be, he also had to be able to handle the pressures, boredom and chaos of a film set. Venditti reached out to Hall. The founder of the Miracle Project and mother to a now-adult neurodivergent son, Hall is an acting coach who has worked for more than 20 years to increase the presence and understanding of neurodivergent and disabled people. She is often asked to gauge the ability of actors to take on a certain role — their ease with the material, their physical stamina, their level of independence and their emotional accessibility.
Delbis, she says, ticked all the boxes. He loves horror films, he was on the track team and he was, at the time, about to travel without his parents on a school trip to Sweden.
He is, as he says himself, “a low-key guy,” so Hall gave him some exercises to help him portray more extreme emotions and prepare him for when other cast members might do the same. (One subsequent rehearsal involved a scene in which one of the actors screamed repeatedly.)
Often, Hall says, perfecting these exercises can take weeks; Delbis, working with his mother, did it in a weekend. She also helped him prepare for his meeting with and then chemistry read with Plemons.
Delbis says he was “a bit nervous, though I don’t know why.” He did not recognize Plemons’ name or his face. “I had watched ‘Breaking Bad,’ but I didn’t realize Jesse played Todd. Halfway through [the read], I told him he looked like Todd and he said, ‘That’s because I played him.’ I’ve seen him in other things since then,” Delbis adds. “He’s a very solid actor.”
More important, he says, “Jesse seemed to me to be a very cool guy.”
That feeling is mutual. “When we brought Aidan in, I was excited and a little nervous,” Plemons says during a phone call from London. They started with one of the more extreme scenes from the film. “I was finding my feet too. When it became apparent that he was going to be fine with the darker scenes, I said, ‘This is him; this is Don.’”
While all this was happening, Delbis was finishing his senior year, which included a starring role in a production of “Almost Maine.” “It was not overly hard,” he says, but sometimes it was a lot. “I did one read and then I had to go to rehearsal for the play.”
Venditti remembers that day very well. “Here we were being so careful, treating him like he was fragile and not wanting to overload him,” she says laughing, “and he’s just calmly multitasking.”
When Delbis got the role in May, he and his family signed a nondisclosure agreement, which is why none of his friends knew his news after graduation, and Delbis and his family flew to the U.K. to begin filming. It was a tough secret for his parents to keep. But “any time it looked like I might slip,” Katy says, “Aidan shut me down.” He celebrated his 18th birthday near the set outside of Windsor, where production ran for three months before moving for two weeks in Atlanta.
Hall was hired to be Delbis’ on-set access and creative coach, a job she believes she has invented, meant to make the experience for neurodivergent and disabled actors easier. She suggested that Lanthimos and Tracy simplify Delbis’ script pages, stripping down the description of action “so he wouldn’t get stuck thinking he had to do exactly what was on the page,” she says, which they were happy to do.
“We didn’t want to put any limits on him,” Lanthimos says.
Delbis chose most of his costumes (except a beekeeping suit, motivated by the plot, which he says “was very hot”), which mirrored his own wardrobe preferences down to the horror film t-shirts and mismatched socks. Even the food Teddy and Don eat during the film reflects Delbis’ taste: mac ’n’ cheese, taquitos, spaghetti.
Hall ensured Delbis had extra time before filming, during which she could help him prepare with rehearsal and centering exercises. She visited the set before he arrived so she could tell him exactly what to expect and worked with the production team to ensure that he had his own space between takes. “They built us a little house, with horror posters on the wall and stuffed animals that looked like his cats,” she says. As there were no Goldfish available in the U.K., the production had them flown in.
“Having Elaine there was amazing,” Venditti says. “The idea of having someone to act as eyes and ears of what people are actually experiencing on set, I think it’s groundbreaking. I don’t know why we haven’t done it before.”
Delbis spent a fair amount of time with Plemons, who Hall said occasionally stepped in to help if she had to be away from set.
“We did a decent amount of goofing around,” Delbis says. “The bond that developed between us occurred quite naturally. I consider Jesse a friend.”
For his part, Plemons enjoyed being around someone who spoke his mind.
“I so appreciated Aidan’s inability to tell a lie,” Plemons says. “On a set, you spend so much time waiting around, and he would say, ‘What are we doing? What is taking so long?’ Which was exactly what I was thinking. He’s a very smart, sensitive, self-assured guy, and if you’re unclear in what you’re saying, he will let you know.”
“Aidan is just so funny,” says his “Bugonia” co-star Emma Stone. “We spent a lot of time together in a basement and Aidan had so many jokes about that.”
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Stone says that while she and Delbis had a friendly rapport, she hung back a little when they weren’t shooting. “I didn’t want to form the same kind of bond Aidan had with Jesse because [in the film] it’s them against me and I didn’t want to do too much to mess with that.”
But, the two-time Oscar winner says, “Aidan is just so funny. He was on a jag during the kidnapping scene. We spent a lot of time together in a basement and Aidan had so many jokes about that.”
“I went through all of ‘Bugonia’ thinking I had never seen Emma in anything,” Delbis says. “Then I realized my parents had shown me a clip of a woman getting very involved in a birthday card — ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’ — and that was from ‘Easy A.’”
When he was filming, Delbis was all business. Several of the takes which he ad-libbed made it into the film and Delbis is proud of that.
“Despite being in more extreme situations than I’ve been in, there’s something of Don’s emotion and struggles that did feel very familiar to me,” he says. “Feelings of great distress and helplessness and conflictedness and confusion. I have felt that in classes in high school.”
“Aidan has great instincts,” Lanthimos says. “In a scene toward the end [of the film], he was so moving, it was the first time I have ever teared up on set.
There were difficult days — one moment with Plemons, Delbis says, took many takes. “It was hot AF and involved me getting more worked up that I am used to getting,” he remembers. But he appreciated Lanthimos’ willingness to let him try things. “In one scene, Jesse throws a chair and I thought that seemed pretty cool. So at the end of the day, they let me throw a chair. I hope that makes it into the outtakes reel.”
He was also very pleased when the crew threw him a s’mores party at the end of filming. “There was a fire pit on set that looked perfect for s’mores,” he says. “And I told them that, so it was my idea to have a s’mores party.”
Delbis is happy with how the film turned out, including his performance. “I think I looked pretty baller in that suit,” he says of one scene. Though he doesn’t have an opinion on the authenticity debate — whether autistic actors should always be the ones to play autistic characters — he thinks it’s “cool that writers and directors are starting to be more conscientious and give more realistic and respectful depictions of neurodivergent people and characters.”
He is more concerned that audiences understand what he thinks is the most important message of the movie.
“We should try to be more empathetic to people with different worldviews because you never really know what those people are going through,” he says. “The movie feels very relevant to that theme. God knows, people aren’t always willing to be tolerant.”
Celia Imrie is one of several famous faces appearing on the BBC’s Celebrity Traitors, and in the past, the beloved actress, who’s appeared in Bridget Jones, has shared glimpses of her life
Daniel Bird Assistant Celebrity and Entertainment Editor
11:36, 22 Oct 2025Updated 11:36, 22 Oct 2025
Celia is currently appearing on Celebrity Traitors(Image: CREDIT LINE:BBC/Studio Lambert/Euan Cherry)
Celia Imrie had no wishes to marry – or date, but after wanting a child took a slightly unconventional route to motherhood. The actress is one of the famous faces starring in BBC hit Celebrity Traitors.
She’s joined in the castle by the likes of Alan Carr, Charlotte Church, Kate Garraway, Lucy Beaumont, Jonathan Ross, Clare Balding, Cat Burns and Stephen Fry. Celia believes being an actor gives her “quite an advantage” to the game, but has shared a number of personal revelations in the series so far.
Celia has spoken of her special arrangement with the late actor, Benjamin Whitrow. Celia has made it no secret that she had no intentions of getting married, but had always wanted to be a mum. She and Benjamin welcomed son Angus, also an actor, who has appeared in Station Jim, The Crown and Flea Bag.
Now, 73, when she was in her 40s, Celia asked Whitrow for a child but revealed she didn’t expect him to contribute towards their son’s life. Instead, she made the decision that she would raise their child completley alone. Speaking about her deal with Whitrow, she told the Telegraph: “Angus was devoted to his father and, though I’ve never really said it properly, Ben and I did have a romance.
“I wanted to have his baby before it was too late, and he [Whitrow] was very, very honest with him [Angus], and he accepted that and was a wonderful father.” Whitrow, known for playing Mr Bennett in Pride and Prejudice, died in September 2017, aged 80.
She said it was “very tough” and that she had lost “a very darling friend”. Prior to his death, Celia had insisted that they were just friends. She and Whitrow, who was divorced with two adult children, met in the 1990s, and it was during a walk on the beach when she asked him to father her son.
Reflecting on this, she said in her memoir, Happy Hoofer: “We gradually got to know each other and grew very fond. He thought perhaps in time…but because Ben had a grown-up family I was very anxious not to upset them.
“Ben and I walked on the beach one day as I laid out my terms. As long as he understood I would not ask for anything, I wouldn’t want to live with him, or marry him, would never ask for money for the child and I would be responsible for choosing and paying for the child’s education, accommodation, clothing – everything.
“I was trying to be clear and true. Some people might say calculated, but I would say I was being honest. If Ben could take all that on board, I said, then his offer to fulfil my wish for a child would be wonderful. He has proved to be a marvellous father to Angus. And his whole family has been very welcoming.”
Celia has been very clear that she prefers friendship to sex and has no desire to marry. Speaking to the Telegraph in 2013, she said: “I have a horror of boring someone or, worse still, of someone boring me. I said to my mother when I was seven, ‘But, Mums, if it was only my husband and me in the house together, what would we talk about?’ I’ve never wanted to answer my own question, and doubt I’ll bother now.”
Welcome to Screen Gab, the newsletter for everyone who spent the week belting “You Don’t Own Me” with the same gusto as an empowered ex-wife dressed in white.
Diane Keaton died this week at age 79 at her Los Angeles home. The L.A. native had a career that spanned more than five decades and included a wide-ranging and indelible list of performances in films such as “The Godfather” saga, “Annie,” Baby Boom,” “Father of the Bride” (and its sequel), “The First Wives Club,” “Something’s Gotta Give,” “The Family Stone” — the list goes on and on. Take a moment to read film editor Joshua Rothkop’s illuminating snapshot of Keaton’s life. Of course, her legacy goes far beyond the performance. Times film critic Amy Nicholson wrote how Keaton showed us how to dress up our insecurities and embrace the kooky. And if you want to take a dive into her oeuvre, we have a roundup of 10 Keaton performances worth watching. Pluto TV is featuring an on-demand collection called “Remembering Diane Keaton,” with 15 of her most beloved films available to stream anytime.
And speaking of women who leave a lasting impression — this week saw the return of Keri Russell as Kate Wyler, the highly competent seasoned foreign service officer, with the arrival of “The Diplomat’s” third season. The Netflix series has spent its time tracking the career diplomat’s journey being primed to assume the role of vice president. Its backdrop storyline of an aging president who is expected to pass the torch to a younger female vice president — and the chaos that ensues when the plan is upended — may have real-world parallels, but the show’s creator, Debora Cahn, whose other credits include “The West Wing” and “Homeland,” insists the series is not a commentary. She stopped by Guest Spot to discuss the political thriller.
Also in this week’s Screen Gab, our streaming recommendations are an eclectic pair: a documentary that chronicles the 60-year movement to convert abandoned railroads into public spaces around America and, for those looking to make their viewing of Guillermo Del Toro’s take on “Frankenstein” a double-feature kind of night, we make the case for a ‘90s gory horror-comedy twist on the legend.
ICYMI
Must-read stories you might have missed
Diane Keaton arrives at a news conference at the 40th Cannes Film Festival to introduce her feature directorial debut, “Heaven,” in 1987.
Recommendations from the film and TV experts at The Times
A view of the Island Line Trail in “From Rails to Trails.”
(PBS)
“From Rails to Trails” (PBS.org)
Trains ran close to where I grew up, and I’m still stupidly excited whenever I see one in action. There are fewer now than there were then, but part of their romance is the alternative routes they carved through the land. “From Rails to Trails” documents the 60-year movement to transform abandoned rail lines — which is to say, most rail lines — into paths for biking and hiking, turning them into linear public parks, making the countryside accessible but also remaking urban spaces. It’s a movement not without its opponents, its reversals and consequences, including the gentrification that can follow them. But this often moving hour-long documentary is a paean to old-fashioned coalition building and community activism — needed now more than ever — and the success of a new idea many now take for granted. Former Vermont governor Howard Dean and former Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg chime in. New voice of the everyman Edward Norton narrates. — Robert Lloyd
“Frankenhooker” (Pluto TV, Tubi)
The lament of “The Bride of Frankenstein” is that the heroine herself is only onscreen for a few minutes. Get your fix by watching Frank Henenlotter’s “Frankenhooker.” This sleazy-brilliant 1990 romp is so clever it ranks (severed) head and shoulders with the black-and-white classics. An inventor, Jeffrey (James Lorinz), is bereft over losing his fiancée Elizabeth (Patty Mullen) to a freak lawnmower accident. He vows to rebuild his future bride — but hotterr. “I can make you the centerfold goddess of the century,” Jeffrey says with a leer. The real vanity is his. He wants a sexy, mindless babe. Henenlotter (also of the schlock hit “Basket Case”) claimed he didn’t think deeply about the subtext of his horror movies, a feint that dates back farther than George A. Romero pretending “Night of the Living Dead’s” martyred Black hero wasn’t a comment on race. They’re both fibbers. “Frankenhooker” is a giddy, popcorn-chomping comment on the disposability of women, especially the sex workers Jeffrey murders for spare parts. But what brings it to life is Mullen’s uproarious resurrected sexpot. Stomping around wearing a purple bra and a ghastly sneer, she belongs to no man — ring on her finger or not. Make it a double feature with Guillermo Del Toro’s terrific new “Frankenstein” in theaters this week. — Amy Nicholson
Guest spot
A weekly chat with actors, writers, directors and more about what they’re working on — and what they’re watching
Allison Janney as Grace, Rufus Sewell as Hal Wyler and Keri Russell as Kate Wyler in Season 3 scene from “The Diplomat.”
(Alex Bailey / Netflix)
Will the U.S. ever be ready for a female president? Time will tell. But “The Diplomat” has provided its contribution to the list of fictional ones. The Netflix drama, a fast-paced look at the art of diplomacy, stars Keri Russell as Kate Wyler, a newly-appointed U.S. ambassador to the United Kingdom who is tapped from the ranks of career diplomats to be quietly prepped to become vice president. The plan, of course, hasn’t gone as expected. In the whirlwind final moments of last season, the president dies and suddenly the person Kate was enlisted to push out, Vice President Grace Penn (Allison Janney), is whisked into duty — just as Kate has discovered the VP is responsible for hatching a terrorist plot. The show returned for its third season earlier this week and explores the aftermath as Penn is sworn in as president. Here, creator Debora Cahn shares what she was interested in unpacking in Season 3’s marriage dynamics, orchestrating a “West Wing” reunion and the time she met former Vice President Kamala Harris. There are some mild spoilers ahead, so bookmark for later if you haven’t begun the season! — Yvonne Villarreal
What did you want out of Kate’s journey this season? Her professional ambitions are once again tested by her marriage. Hal keeps claiming it’s Kate’s time to be in the spotlight and yet he manages to steal it.
We wanted to look at how it happens that someone like Hal winds up in the spotlight even when he’s desperately trying not to; the circumstances that surround decisions like this, which make it such that even the people in the middle of them don’t really have any control over it. You can look at what Grace is doing, and you can understand why she thinks Kate is fantastic, but that the choice, in terms of what’s going to make it easier for her to get through the day, is Hal. And we didn’t want to have a science fiction White House where there are two women happily running the country. That’s just not the world that we’re living in. And it felt like the most honest thing that we could do is tell a story about what it means to be really qualified and really experienced and really ready, and then watch it all slip away at the last second.
The season includes a delightful “West Wing” reunion, a show you wrote for. Allison Janney returns as VP-turned-President Grace Penn and Bradley Whitford portrays her husband, Todd. What was it like to see them back together onscreen? And what did you want their marriage dynamic to say?
It was like first day of school jitters for the first day that each of them was on set. We really wanted to make sure that this was something new and it wasn’t a reference to the work that we’d done together in the past. And the second they started, it was just clear that we were watching a new relationship that these two great actors were building together and informed by the fact that they know each other quite well and that they’ve been good friends for 20 years, but using that to create something new and fresh and really, really satisfying.
This is a marriage that has some very similar structural dynamics to Kate and Hal, but there are some fundamental differences, which is, there was never an assumption that Todd’s career could continue to function alongside Grace’s once she became vice president; and certainly when she becomes president, there’s no question that will become the focus for both of them. And so there are dynamics that Kate and Hal still wrestle with, which we see are kind of absolved with Todd and Grace. And in some ways that helps, and in some ways it doesn’t help.
We’re looking at a couple that’s 10 years farther down the road in their marriage and have made, in some ways, a more pragmatic decision about what it means to have two smart, capable people with careers existing at the same time. Their decision is that one of them isn’t going to exist right now. I think the thing that I enjoy most about both Hal and Todd is that these are people who really, really, really love their wives and really want to be supportive and they still fail or they struggle so, so mightily. We’ve talked about this before: I don’t like writing villains. I don’t want to write politicians that have bad values or selfish goals. I also don’t want to write people in a marriage who don’t give a s— about each other. I would much rather look at the much larger problem, which is, you do really care about each other. You do really want the best for each other, and you still can’t manage to make it happen.
Allison Janney as President Grace Penn and Bradley Whitford as First Gentleman Todd Penn in “The Diplomat.”
(Clifton Prescod / Netflix)
“The Diplomat” premiered in a different political climate from the one it’s in now. The show is not a direct commentary on what’s happening now, but how does the current reality, particularly as it relates to what those in civil service are facing, inform how you think about or build stories moving forward? What sorts of questions are you asking now of people who work in the government?
We write a story two years before the audience watches it, so we we don’t want to be making a direct commentary. Even if we did, the world is moving so fast, we couldn’t try and keep up. But we do want to be in the foreign policy headspace that the world is in, and try to be looking at what are the bigger questions and bigger conflicts that face people who are working in this field. We think a lot about the fact that 300,000 people were fired from the federal government. We think a lot about what it’s like to work for this administration and — I’m trying to figure out what to say without getting into Season 4, which I don’t want to do. It doesn’t inform the specifics of any of the stories that we’re telling, but it does inform the worldview and the bigger questions that face people in this field as the field changes. As the world changes.
You’re writing about people whose job it is to make hard decisions every day. What was the hardest decision you had to make for this third season — either in the writing phase or the production phase?
We moved the base of production from the UK back to New York. The first two seasons we were based in the UK, and then for Season 3, we did half and half. There were a lot of really good reasons for that. It also meant that we had a crew that grew this organism with us — and we were very close to them; they had huge influence on the show — and leaving them behind was really, really terrible. It’s a tough time in the film and television industry right now, and we felt pretty good about bringing jobs back to this community. That was something that was important to us and we really wanted to do. So, we are comfortable with the decision that we made, but, boy, it sure wasn’t fun making it and going through it. It’s people’s livelihood. It’s not a small thing.
Former Vice President Kamala Harris recently released a book chronicling her whirlwind and brief campaign as a 2024 presidential candidate. Have you read it?
I have not read it. But did I tell you about when we met her?
No. Tell me. You were also filming this third season during the election, right?
We were we were shooting it during the election. We were writing it during the election. And we we were worried about how it was going to look. We didn’t want it to look like a commentary on this presidency. But we did have a female vice president that we liked a whole lot, and a male president that we really loved and was of a certain age and didn’t make it through the process — the dynamics kept getting more and more troubling.
Keri and I were at the [White House Correspondents’] Dinner. And there was a receiving line, and we met and shook hands with the president and the first lady and the vice president and the second gentleman. And I said, “Ma’am, I’m writing a story about what it’s like for a woman who’s really experienced and really smart and really capable and really ready to do a job who then gets passed over for someone who is perhaps less qualified.” And she laughed. Then she said, “Call me.”
Have you called?
I have not called. I felt like she had some stuff going on. I didn’t really want to bother her and say, “Heyyyyy … let’s talk about how that went …”
What have you watched recently that you are recommending to everyone you know?
“Dying for Sex” [Hulu, Disney+]. It was brutal and intense and very funny and extremely well-written. And I just thought what they did from a public health service perspective, sharing practical information about what it actually means to go through the process of death, I thought it was just a huge public service.
What’s your go-to “comfort watch,” the movie or TV show you go back to again and again?
“Postcards from the Edge” [VOD] — it is just so smart and so funny and both Shirley MacLaine and Meryl Streep are just absolutely to die for.
A curse befell Jacob Elordi when he was a child. It happened in the aisle of a Blockbuster Video. The culprit for the incantation was the image of the now emblematic Pale Man from “Pan’s Labyrinth,” flaunting eyes on his palms on the back cover of the DVD.
“My mother remembers this,” an energetic Elordi tells me in a Hollywood conference room. “I came running through the corridor and I was like, ‘I need this DVD.’ And she was like, ‘That’s so much blood and gore. You can’t watch it.’”
“She told you, ‘I’ll get it if you promise never to work with that director,’” Guillermo del Toro, the filmmaker behind the Oscar-winning dark fantasy, chimes in, sitting next to Elordi.
His wish granted, Elordi watched “Pan’s Labyrinth” at a young age. The fable set against the Spanish Civil War forever changed him. “From that moment, because of the way that Guillermo wills magic into the world and into his life, I feel like there was some kind of curse set upon me,” the actor says. “I do genuinely believe that, as out there as it sounds.”
Now, Elordi, 28, has become one of the Mexican director’s monsters in his long-gestating adaptation of Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” (in theaters Friday, then on Netflix Nov. 7). Under intricate prosthetics and makeup, Elordi plays the Creature that arrogant scientist Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) breathes life into — an assemblage of dead limbs and organs imbued with a new consciousness.
Elordi with writer-director Guillermo del Toro on the set of “Frankenstein.”
(Ken Woroner / Netflix)
Receptive to tenderness but prone to violence, the nameless Creature now has, in Elordi, a performer suited for all its unruly emotions. “It was the innocence in Jacob’s portrayal that kept getting me,” says makeup artist and prosthetics designer Mike Hill. “The Creature could snap on a dime like an animal.”
Capable of complex thought, Del Toro’s version of the monster ponders the punishment of existence and the cruelty of its maker. “They’re almost like John Milton questions to the creator,” the director says of the Creature’s dialogue. “You have to give it a physicality that is heartbreakingly uncanny but also hypnotically human.”
The imposingly lanky, gracefully handsome Elordi, born in Australia, has risen in profile over the last few years, thanks to roles in the hit series “Euphoria” and the psychosexual class-climbing thriller “Saltburn.”
“It came from some other place,” Elordi says about the pull to the role of the Creature. “It felt like a growth, like a cancer in my stomach that told me that I had to play this thing.”
(Bexx Francois / For The Times)
“Frankenstein,” however, seems to have been calling his name for a long time.
“Early in my career, I had been reading what folks on the internet would say about me and someone had written after my first film, ‘The only thing this plank of wood could play is Frankenstein’s Creature. Get him off my screen!’” Elordi recalls. “I went, ‘That’s an absolutely fantastic idea.’”
The thought reentered Elordi’s mind while making Sofia Coppola’s 2023 “Priscilla,” in which he played a moody, internal Elvis Presley to Cailee Spaeny’s title character. Long before he was offered the part, the hair and makeup team on “Priscilla” shared with him their next job was, in fact, Del Toro’s “Frankenstein.”
“I looked at [hair designer] Cliona [Furey] and I said, ‘I’m supposed to be in that movie.’ And she said, ‘Did you audition?’ And I was like, ‘No, but I’m meant to be in that movie.’”
“It came from some other place,” Elordi further explains. “It felt like a growth, like a cancer in my stomach that told me that I had to play this thing. I’ve heard stories about this from actors, and when you hear them, you kind of go, ‘Sure, you were meant to play this thing.’ But I really feel like I was.”
Due to scheduling conflicts, Andrew Garfield, originally cast as the Creature, dropped out in late 2023. With production set to start in early 2024, Del Toro had limited time to find a new actor. When Elordi finally heard he was being considered, he had to read the screenplay within hours of receiving it, and be willing to dive into the darkness.
“I had a few weeks to prepare, but I was lucky to have also had my whole life — and I mean that sincerely,” he says, a grin crossing his face. “Playing this was an exploration into a cave of the self, into every experience with my father, with my mother, my experience with cinema, my scraped knees when I was 7.”
Del Toro says he knew Elordi would make the perfect Creature from speaking with him over Zoom. He remembers immediately messaging Isaac, his Victor, convinced that Elordi could play both “Adam and Jesus,” which are the two facets that the creature represents for the director.
Jacob Elordi as the Creature in the movie “Frankenstein.”
(Ken Woroner / Netflix)
“I don’t think I’ve experienced miracles many times in my life,” Del Toro says. “And when somebody comes to your life in any capacity that transforms it, that happened here. This man is a miracle for this film.”
As he typically does for all the actors in his films, Del Toro sent Elordi several books ahead of working together. Elordi’s deep-dive reading list included the bedrock Taoist guide “Tao Te Ching,” Stephen Mitchell’s well-regarded translation of the Book of Job and a text on the developmental stages of a baby.
The most complex element of the performance, Del Toro believes, is playing “nothing,” meaning the blank, pure state of mind of a living being in infancy. “A baby is everything at once,” Elordi says. “It’s deep pain, deep joy, curiosity. And you don’t have chambers for your thoughts yet.”
Right before “Frankenstein,” Elordi had been shooting Prime’s World War II miniseries “The Narrow Road to the Deep North” in Australia, an experience he describes as “grueling,” one that involved losing substantial weight. He repurposed his body’s subsequent fragility as a dramatic tool.
“My brain was kind of all over the place,” he remembers. “I had these moments of great anguish at around 3 a.m. in the morning. I’d wake and my body was in such pain. And I just realized that it was a blessing with ‘Frankenstein’ coming up, because I could articulate these feelings, this suffering.”
Aside from being an outlet for his exhaustion, the transformation also helped Elordi to recalibrate. “Frankenstein” arrived at a time where he found himself wrestling with a crisis of purpose.
“At that time in my life I really wanted to hide,” Elordi says. “I really wanted to go away for a while. I was desperate to find some kind of normalcy and rebuild the way that I acted and how I approached making movies,” Elordi says. “And when the film came along, I remember being like, ‘Ugh, I really wanted to go away right now.’ And I realized immediately the Creature was where I was supposed to go away to. I was supposed to go into that mask of freedom.”
Was he trying to escape the pressures of dawning fame? Elordi says it was much more philosophical than that.
“Who do I think I am? Who do I present myself as? What do I like? What don’t I like? Do I love? Can I love? What is love? Every single thing of being alive,” he says with a radiant smile. “The unbearable weight of being.”
“At that time in my life I really wanted to hide,” Elordi says of the moment just before taking on Del Toro’s version of the classic. “I really wanted to go away for a while. I was desperate to find some kind of normalcy and rebuild the way that I acted and how I approached making movies.”
(Bexx Francois / For The Times)
The part entailed physically burying himself in another body. It allowed Elordi to renounce any hang-ups, surrendering to a fugue state of mind. Every moment felt like a discovery.
“I was liberated in this makeup,” he adds. “I didn’t have to be this version of myself anymore. In those six months, I completely rebuilt myself. And I came out of this film with a whole new skin.”
Elordi sat for 10 hours in the makeup chair on days that required full body makeup — only four if they were only shooting the Creature’s face. “Jacob wanted to wear the makeup and he knew it would be grueling,” Hill says.
“It was nothing short of a religious experience,” Elordi says. “The excitement I had even just getting my body cast — I was buzzing.”
Hill believes that the decision to make the Creature bald for the scenes where he is a “baby” is what makes Del Toro’s take unique within the “Frankenstein” mythos.
“Instead of what happens in cloning where a baby grows, Victor literally did make a baby, just a big one,” says Hill. “The Creature learns quickly because its brain and its bodies have already lived once. God knows what this Creature knew before he forgot and needed to be reminded.”
As for the skin, Del Toro envisioned a marble-statue look that he had been pursuing in earlier movies like “Cronos,” “Blade II” and “The Devil’s Backbone.”
“Mike took it and made it incredibly subtle: flesh with the violets and the purples and the pearlescence,” Del Toro says. “He bested every concept I’ve ever imagined by making it look like parts of exsanguine bodies. That was so brilliant.”
“It was the innocence in Jacob’s portrayal that kept getting me,” says makeup artist and creature designer Mike Hill, here seen working on a model for “Frankenstein.”
(John P. Johnson / Netflix)
A Frankenstein’s monster with rainbow-colored flesh, Hill says, could only exist in the context of a Del Toro picture.
“He had to look beautiful, like a phrenology head or an anatomical manual,” Del Toro adds. “We agreed — no scars. No sutures. No vulgarity.”
Del Toro’s casting of Elordi was fully validated when the actor walked on set for the first time in full makeup. “The whole process was anticipation,” Elordi says. “And then I opened my eyes and he was looking back at me, and it was exactly what I thought it would be when I first read the screenplay.”
For Hill, it was watching Elordi doing an interview, where his limbs seemed loose and relaxed, that convinced him he was the right actor to sculpt the Creature on. “I was like, ‘Look at those wrists.’ And then he turns, and he has these lashes,” Hill says. “Big eyes are beautiful for makeup. And structurally, Jacob has an unassuming nose, so you can build on that.”
“And he has a big chin,” Hill continues amid Del Toro’s boisterous laughter. “I was like, ‘I’m not going to glue one on.’”
Amused at his anatomy being dissected in front of him, Elordi claps back, mock-defensively: “He was grotesque to look at, but he was somewhat gifted. A deformed skinny freak.”
By the time Elordi got out of the makeup chair, he says, the electricity in his body had shifted. He stepped on set physically depleted but in the ideal headspace to embody the creature as it navigates an inhospitable reality.
“He’ll forever be fused into my chemistry,” Elordi says. “He was always there and now I have a little place for him. But I can’t rationalize him.”
Whether by curse or by miracle, Elordi’s Creature lives. And the actor feels reborn.
“We’ve been doing this for a while now,” laughs Channing Tatum, “and every once in a while a new thing comes out I haven’t heard.”
Tatum’s responding to the latest revelation of the press tour for his new film “Roofman”: Director Derek Cianfrance’s claim that he was the fastest checker in Walmart history. (“They gave you a raise if you got 18 rings a minute,” says Cianfrance. “I averaged 350.”)
The point, for Cianfrance, is that the characters at the heart of “Roofman” — good-hearted thief and unauthorized Toys “R” Us tenant Jeffrey Manchester (Tatum) and working mother Leigh (Kirsten Dunst) — are his kind of people.
And “Roofman,” which in its themes of personal responsibility, community and acceptance holds much in common with the work of Frank Capra, is his kind of film. The director behind the 1946 Christmas classic “It’s a Wonderful Life” loomed over Cianfrance’s film from the start. “As we were selling this movie, trying to get it financed, I was pitching it to everyone as a Capra movie and what I kept hearing is, ‘We don’t make those movies anymore.’”
Cianfrance always knew he wanted “Roofman” to be a Christmas movie, which often features characters rediscovering themselves in a small town and magical happenings like, as he says, “a fish shows up with wings.” Or, in this case, that Manchester — on the lam after escaping prison — ends up falling in love with Leigh and being embraced by her family and community.
Tatum as Jeffrey Manchester in “Roofman.”
(Davi Russo / Paramount Pictures)
“I love the populist filmmaker who’s making movies about regular people,” says Cianfrance. “You never feel like Capra’s ever judging people, or being snobby about the people he’s making movies about. He’s making movies about the people who go to the movies.” And while the film’s true-life tale is certainly stranger than fiction, Cianfrance avoided turning “Roofman” into Hollywood escapism. Instead, he says, he wanted to illustrate his respect for working people’s dreams and aspirations: “The thing that transformed it for me was when Leigh told me that Jeff was the greatest adventure of her life, and that she didn’t regret a thing.”
With that in mind, he urged the cast to live their characters’ suburban North Carolina lives. He encouraged actor Peter Dinklage, who plays the Toys “R” Us store manager, to actually manage the store. Dunst’s Leigh, a new hire, was given an actual job interview by Dinklage himself. “He would not give me an inch in that interview,” says Dunst. “I respect him so much as an actor, I think I was also just intimidated by him as well.”
Cianfrance calls the set “an aquarium for actors” — a place where, to pull another Christmas reference he drops, everyone was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on the island of misfit toys. Actors like Emory Cohen and Juno Temple expanded their characters beyond the page. Cohen, who plays bullied employee Otis, conjured up his character’s love for peanut M&M’s, while Temple, who plays the girlfriend of one of Manchester’s friends, saw her character as a hairdresser.
Even a scene where the Toys “R” Us is decorated for Thanksgiving gave Cianfrance and production designer Inbal Weinberg the opportunity to debate where to have Dunst place an inflatable turkey. “I was like, we’re gonna let the actors decide. Kirsten came to set. She got the turkey. And she started to decide where it went, and she put it where my production designer wanted it,” Cianfrance says. “And Peter Dinklage came out and was like, ‘No, the turkey goes here.’”
“As we were selling this movie, trying to get it financed, I was pitching it to everyone as a Capra movie and what I kept hearing is, ‘We don’t make those movies anymore,’’’ says “Roofman” director Derek Cianfrance.
(The Tyler Twins / For The Times)
Dunst had been wanting to work with the director since auditioning (unsuccessfully, the pair joke) for his 2016 feature “The Light Between Oceans.” “I would have done this movie without reading any script,” she says. “How he makes a set — he wants to capture all the nuance and the things that make us humans interesting.”
Tatum concurs. He knew immediately the role would challenge him as a performer. The actor had heard stories of how Cianfrance worked with performers to get authentic responses, like giving Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams — playing a married couple in 2010 drama “Blue Valentine” — contrasting information in scenes to heighten tension.
Dunst recalls a similar moment on “Roofman,” where Jeff scares Leigh by driving a car too fast with her and her daughters inside. “Derek held my arms and he was like, ‘Push against me as hard as you can,’” she says. “I did that and he held tight and then we went into the scene immediately after. It brought up emotions of being trapped and a feeling like everything was out of your control … but that really helped me a lot.”
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“I only told [Cianfrance] no one time,” says Tatum, “and that’s when he wanted me to sing.” That might surprise viewers considering Tatum has an extended nude sequence where Jeff tries to escape from Dinklage’s Mitch — the first time Dinklage and Tatum met, as it happens.
“[Derek] always jokes, ‘You read the script,’” says Tatum. “I’m like, ‘Yeah, I know I read the script. I just assumed you had a plan … a blocking plan.” The scene itself, which involved Tatum running through the toy store and leaping onto a small roof, took 15 takes to accomplish over almost eight hours. Tatum, Dunst and Cianfrance laugh about how the director broached the subject of keeping Tatum’s nudity tasteful. “He’s like, ‘You want me to blur it?’” says Tatum. “I’m like, ‘Don’t blur it. That’s even weirder.’”
As Dunst, Tatum and Cianfrance discuss the production, the conversation seems to be as much about the memories they made on set as the making of a film — which underscores Cianfrance’s approach to directing.
“I’ve always tried to make sure [the actors] have environments … so that they can have these accidents and surprises. Moments can happen one time that you can’t replicate, and they become the moment that you watch forever. They become immortalized because of that.”
“Monster,” the gruesome and graphic anthology series from longtime collaborators Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan, has dramatized the chilling story of serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer and the highly publicized and complex case of Lyle and Erik Menendez, brothers who were convicted for the 1989 murder of their parents. The third installment of the Netflix series, which was released last week, puts its twist on the legend of Gein, a killer who inspired fictional villains like Norman Bates and Leatherface. Brennan, who wrote the season, stopped by Guest Spot to discuss the fantastical approach to the season and that “Mindhunter” hat tip.
Also in this week’s Screen Gab, our streaming recommendations include a “Frontline” documentary that continues its chronicle on the lingering impact of poverty and a spinoff of “The Boys” set at America’s only college for superheroes.
ICYMI
Must-read stories you might have missed
Illustration of John Candy with his hands on his cheeks.
Recommendations from the film and TV experts at The Times
A still from “Frontline: Born Poor,” which filmed over 14 years with kids from three families, from adolescents to adults, to explore how poverty has affected them.
(Frontline PBS)
“Frontline: Born Poor” (PBS.org)
Television is glutted with “reality,” but there are still filmmakers who prefer to look at how people live when they’re not contestants in a dating game or bunked up with competitive strangers. Jezza Neumann’s “Born Poor” is the third installment in a moving documentary series that began 14 years ago with “Poor Kids,” and, like Michael Apted’s “7 Up” films, has visited its subjects in intervals over the years since. Set in the Quad Cities area, where Illinois meets Iowa along the Mississippi River, it follows Brittany, Johnny and Kayli from bright-eyed childhood into chastened, though still optimistic adulthood, as they deal with life on the margins — power lost, houses lost, school impossible, food unpredictable. Now, with kids of their own, all are concerned to provide them a better life than the ones they had. With Washington waging a war on the poor to protect the rich, it’s a valuable watch. — Robert Lloyd
Derek Luh (Jordan Li), from left, Jaz Sinclair (Marie Moreau), Keeya King (Annabeth Moreau), Lizze Broadway (Emma Meyer) in “Gen V.”
(Jasper Savage / Prime)
“Gen V” (Prime Video)
Just two weeks out from its Season 2 finale and the satirical superhero series continues to deliver merciless dark humor and sharp topical commentary on America’s great crumble — inside of a tale about misfits enduring the rigors of college life.
Spun off from the brilliant “The Boys” franchise, this series from Eric Kripke, Craig Rosenberg and Evan Goldberg follows a group of students at Godolkin University, an institution designed to identify and train the next generation of superheroes. But the co-eds soon discover that their supposed higher education is in fact a clandestine operation to create “Supe” soldiers for an impending war between the super-powered and non-powered humans. Returning to the fold is Marie Moreau (Jaz Sinclair), who emerges as the rebel group’s most powerful weapon against the school’s nefarious plot. Working alongside her are Emma (Lizze Broadway), Cate (Maddie Phillips), Jordan (London Thor and Derek Luh) and Sam (Asa Germann). The wonderfully unnerving Hamish Linklater (“Midnight Mass”) joins the cast as the school’s new dean.
Is “Gen V” just as gory as “The Boys”? Absolutely. Watch with caution. But nothing else is quite as fearless in calling out the contradictions and absurdities of our times, be it corrupt politics, corporate domination or false religiosity. — Lorraine Ali
Guest spot
A weekly chat with actors, writers, directors and more about what they’re working on — and what they’re watching
Charlie Hunnam as Ed Gein in an episode of “Monster: The Ed Gein Story.”
(Netflix)
“Monster: The Ed Gein Story” stars Charlie Hunnam as the so-called “Butcher of Plainfield,” whose gruesome crimes in 1950s small-town Wisconsin went on to inspire pop culture classics like “Psycho” and “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.” The season leans into Gein’s diagnosed schizophrenia and his legacy in Hollywood to present a deeply fictionalized version of his horrifying activities. All eight episodes of the season are now streaming. Ian Brennan, who co-created the anthology series with Ryan Murphy and helmed the latest installment, stopped by Guest Spot to discuss the season’s approach to fact vs. fiction, that “Mindhunter” nod and the documentary that earns his rewatch time. — Yvonne Villarreal
We often hear from actors about the roles that stay with them long after they’re done filming. Are there elements of “Monster: The Ed Gein Story” that you still can’t shake?
Ed Gein was schizophrenic, and I find the internal life he would have suffered through for decades — alone and hearing voices, primarily that of his dead mother — completely harrowing. He wasn’t medicated until late in his life, and until he was, his mind was a hall of mirrors of images he saw and couldn’t unsee — most shockingly photos of Nazi atrocities during the Holocaust. I believe the only way he could cope was to try to normalize these things — digging up bodies, skinning them, making things from them — and the nagging voice of his mother ultimately drove him to murder at least two women, Mary Hogan and Bernice Worden, maybe more. Ed Gein wasn’t the local boogeyman — his neighbors didn’t find him scary — he was the guy you’d have watch your kids if the babysitter canceled last-minute. And yet, in those four inches between his ears there existed a bizarre, terrifying hellscape of profound loneliness and total confusion. Every day in this country we see what happens when the lethal combination of male loneliness and mental illness goes ignored. The thought of an Ed Gein living just down the street from me is chilling.
“Based on a true story” depictions typically have a loose relationship with the truth due to storytelling needs. This season of “Monster” bakes that idea into the narrative — whether because of Ed’s understanding of events or the way in which he, or his crimes, inspired deeply fictionalized villains like Norman Bates (“Psycho”), Leatherface (“The Texas Chain Saw Massacre”) and Buffalo Bill (“The Silence of the Lambs”) — in trying to unpack the “Who is the monster?” question. What questions were swirling in your head as you tried to weave this story together? And how did that inform where and how you took your liberties?
Ed’s story is, in many ways, fragmented — he didn’t remember many details of the acts he committed, and he passed polygraph tests when interrogated about cold cases police suspected he may have perpetrated. So we knew from the very beginning that there would be gaps to fill in when telling his story — and it seemed the obvious way to do it was to let the true story interplay with the fictionalized versions of Ed Gein that he inspired. There’s a subtle thematic bleed between the versions of Ed we see in the series and the monsters in the movies he inspired — in the first three episodes, we see a “Psycho”-inflected Ed Gein obsessed with his mother; next a much more sexualized, violent Ed Gein that would become “Leatherface”; then an Ed Gein who so fetishized the female body and who was made so ill by the repression of that urge that he became obsessed with building a suit made from women’s bodies. These versions of Ed, to me, are like the blind men feeling different parts of the elephant in the parable — each true in their own way, but each also just a fragment of a shattered whole that will probably never be fully understood.
The season finale features a “Mindhunter” nod. Happy Anderson, who played serial killer Jerry Brudos on that show, reprises his role as the Shoe Fetish Slayer, talking to characters meant to be Holden Ford and Bill Tench, though they’re named John Douglas and Robert Ressler, the real FBI agents who inspired the fictional ones. When and why did you realize you wanted to have that hat tip? Was there an attempt to try to get Jonathan Groff or Holt McCallany?
Having written three seasons of this anthology so far, we’ve realized each time that the emotional climax always comes in the penultimate episode and the finales are always particularly difficult to figure out. We knew we needed to top the episodes that had preceded it by shifting the show’s look and tone — and we had in our hands the nugget that John Douglas and Robert Ressler had, indeed, interviewed Ed Gein in person. Ryan and I both find David Fincher’s oeuvre almost uniquely inspiring, so once we pictured an episode that played as an homage to Fincher’s tone and style and narrative approach, it was something I, at least, just couldn’t unsee. If we were going to go down the rabbit hole of what this chapter of Ed’s story might have looked like, I could only really picture it in Fincher’s terms — so your guess is as good as mine as to why casting the “Mindhunter” pair of Jonathan Groff and Holt McCallany in the roles didn’t feel right (we both love both of those actors), but it just didn’t.
There are so many dark moments for the actors. What scene struck you as especially difficult to write and shoot?
I was at once excited and terrified by the challenge of depicting necrophilia on our show. I’m fairly certain it’s never been done before on TV, and I knew it ran the risk of seeming arbitrarily shocking or exploitative (though I think choosing to tell Ed’s story in an easier manner by avoiding this chapter and not showing it would be the actually exploitative choice). Needless to say, even after I’d written the scene, it preoccupied me, as I had to also direct it. I felt greatly helped by the new industry standard of intimacy coordinators on set — and ours, Katie Groves, was spectacular — but still I worried about the scene just playing as cringey or unwatchable. But Charlie Hunnam, as with every scene he acted in on the show, came at the sequence with honesty and deep concern to capture all of the strangeness of the bizarre, disturbing act we were depicting — and what it said about what was going on inside Ed to lead him to commit such an act.
What have you watched recently that you are recommending to everyone you know?
I just saw PT Anderson’s “One Battle After Another” — which was shot by one of our two directors of photography, Michael Bauman — and was just completely floored and delighted. I’m sure it’s rife with homage to films that have gone before, but I could detect no inheritance at all; it felt like a genre to itself — completely original and new. And I still find the time I watched Jonathan Glazer’s “Zone of Interest” to be among the most profound experiences of my life. He took what is maybe cinema’s most settled, well-trodden genres and turned it on its head in a way I found shocking and revelatory. If there is a better portrait of the proximity and ubiquity and the banality of human evil, I haven’t seen it. I think it is as brilliant a slice of human ingenuity as has ever been crafted. I have thought about that movie every day since I first saw it.
What’s your go-to “comfort watch,” the movie or TV show you go back to again and again?
It’s annoying to say it, but I don’t watch a lot of television. It’s like spending all day at the sausage factory then coming home to watch sausage footage. But the big exception is Peter Jackson’s Beatles documentary “Get Back” [Disney+] chronicling the making of the film and album “Let it Be.” I basically just watch it over and over again. I came late to the Beatles (I loved the Who and resented that they always sat squarely in the Beatles’ shadow), but when they hit me, they hit me hard, and watching them in this documentary at the height of their powers is a master class in the craft of collaboration and the hard work of genius. Also, everything I thought I knew about the Beatles at the end of their stretch as a band is wrong — fighting all the time? A bit but not really. Paul hated Yoko? He actually seems to really like her. I don’t know how many hours the documentary clocks in at, but I wish it were 10 times as long.
Diane Keaton, the actor who made film history — and won an Oscar — as the title character in Woody Allen’s beloved 1977 romantic comedy “Annie Hall,” died Saturday. She was 79. Tributes poured in from those who worked with and admired Keaton, including Bette Midler, Kate Hudson, Steve Martin and Josh Gad.
Here are some notable social media posts:
For the record:
8:42 p.m. Oct. 11, 2025An earlier version of this article incorrectly cited films in which Diane Keaton co-starred with actors Kate Hudson, Rosie O’Donnell, Octavia Spencer and Elizabeth Banks. These actors did not co-star in the listed films with Keaton.
Bette Midler, the actor, singer and comedian who starred with Keaton and Goldie Hawn in the 1996 comedy “The First Wives Club,” about three divorced women who seek revenge on their ex-husbands: “The brilliant, beautiful, extraordinary Diane Keaton has died. I cannot tell you how unbearably sad this makes me. She was hilarious, a complete original, and completely without guile, or any of the competitiveness one would have expected from such a star. What you saw was who she was …oh, la, lala!”
Steve Martin, who co-starred as Keaton’s husband in the “Father of the Bride” films, reposted an exchange between Keaton and Martin Short:
Short: “Who’s sexier, me or Steve Martin?
Keaton: “I mean, you’re both idiots.”
Martin then commented on the post: “Don’t know who first posted this, but it sums up our delightful relationship with Diane.”
Josh Gad: “What a monumental loss. Diane Keaton in many ways defined my love of movies. From Annie Hall to the Godfather films, from First Wives Club to Baby Boom, from Father of the Bride to Something’s Gotta Give, here resume was nothing short of iconic and hall of fame worthy. I was very fortunate to work with her many years ago on an unproduced HBO pilot and what I found was one of the most humble, ruthlessly funny, and unbelievably talented human beings I’ve ever come across. In many ways, this year will be defined by the loss of a Hollywood we will never again see. There simply are no replacements for a Gene Hackman or a Robert Redford or a Diane Keaton. They were the mavericks who helped redefine movies for a generation. … My heart goes out to Diane’s entire family during this impossible moment. RIP”
Kimberly Williams-Paisley, the actor, author and director who played Keaton’s daughter in the “Father of the Bride” films: “Diane, working with you will always be one of the highlights of my life. You are one of a kind, and it was thrilling to be in your orbit for a time. Thank you for your kindness, your generosity, your talent, and above all, your laughter. 🙏🏻🕊️💔❤️❤️❤️”
Rosie O’Donnell: “oh this breaks my heart – love to her children- what style what grace – she will be missed #ripdianekeaton”
Octavia Spencer: “Today we lost a true original. @diane_keaton wasn’t just an actress: she was a force. a woman who showed us that being yourself is the most powerful thing you can be. From Annie Hall to Something’s Gotta Give, she made every role unforgettable. But beyond the screen, she brought joy, laughter, and style that was all her own… Thank you, Diane, for reminding us that authenticity never goes out of fashion.”
Elizabeth Banks: “She was beloved in her industry. Every one of us idolizes her. Her influence on culture, fashion, art and women can’t be overstated. She was a delight. I am proud I have a career that allowed me to meet her and breathe her air.”
Viola Davis: “No!! No!!! No!! God, not yet, NO!!! Man… you defined womanhood. The pathos, humor, levity, your ever-present youthfulness and vulnerability — you tattooed your SOUL into every role, making it impossible to imagine anyone else inhabiting them. You were undeniably, unapologetically YOU!!! Loved you. Man… rest well. God bless your family, and I know angels are flying you home”
A year after tech firm OpenAI roiled Hollywood with the release of its Sora AI video tool, Chief Executive Sam Altman was back — with a potentially groundbreaking update.
Unlike the generic images Sora could initially create, the new program allows users to upload videos of real people and put them into AI-generated environments, complete with sound effects and dialogue.
In one video, a synthetic Michael Jackson takes a selfie video with an image of “Breaking Bad” star Bryan Cranston. In another, a likeness of SpongeBob SquarePants speaks out from behind the White House’s Oval Office desk.
“Excited to launch Sora 2!” Altman wrote on social media platform X on Sept. 30. “Video models have come a long way; this is a tremendous research achievement.”
But the enthusiasm wasn’t shared in Hollywood, where the new AI tools have created a swift backlash. At the core of the dispute is who controls the copyrighted images and likenesses of actors and licensed characters — and how much they should be compensated for their use in AI models.
The Motion Picture Assn. trade group didn’t mince words.
“OpenAI needs to take immediate and decisive action to address this issue,” Chairman Charles Rivkin said in a statement Monday. “Well-established copyright law safeguards the rights of creators and applies here.”
By the end of the week, multiple agencies and unions, including SAG-AFTRA, chimed in with similar statements, marking a rare moment of consensus in Hollywood and putting OpenAI on the defensive.
“We’re engaging directly with studios and rightsholders, listening to feedback, and learning from how people are using Sora 2,” Varun Shetty, OpenAI’s vice president of media partnerships, said in a statement. “Many are creating original videos and excited about interacting with their favorite characters, which we see as an opportunity for rightsholders to connect with fans and share in that creativity.”
For now, the skirmish between well-capitalized OpenAI and the major Hollywood studios and agencies appears to be only just the beginning of a bruising legal fight that could shape the future of AI use in the entertainment business.
“The question is less about if the studios will try to assert themselves, but when and how,” said Anthony Glukhov, senior associate at law firm Ramo, of the clash between Silicon Valley and Hollywood over AI. “They can posture all they want; but at the end of the day, there’s going to be two titans battling it out.”
Before it became the focus of ire in the creative community, OpenAI quietly tried to make inroads into the film and TV business.
The company’s executives went on a charm offensive last year. They reached out to key players in the entertainment industry — including Walt Disney Co. — about potential areas for collaboration and trying to assuage concerns about its technology.
This year, the San Francisco-based AI startup took a more assertive approach.
Before unveiling Sora 2 to the general public, OpenAI executives had conversations with some studios and talent agencies, putting them on notice that they need to explicitly declare which pieces of intellectual property — including licensed characters — were being opted-out of having their likeness depicted on the AI platform, according to two sources familiar with the matter who were not authorized to comment. Actors would be included in Sora 2 unless they opted out, the people said.
OpenAI disputes the claim and says that it was always the company’s intent to give actors and other public figures control over how their likeness is used.
The response was immediate.
Beverly Hills talent agency WME, which represents stars such as Michael B. Jordan and Oprah Winfrey, told OpenAI its actions were unacceptable, and that all of its clients would be opting out.
Creative Artists Agency and United Talent Agency also argued that their clients had the right to control and be compensated for their likenesses.
Studios, including Warner Bros., echoed the point.
“Decades of enforceable copyright law establishes that content owners do not need to ‘opt out’ to prevent infringing uses of their protected IP,” Warner Bros. Discovery said in a statement. “As technology progresses and platforms advance, the traditional principles of copyright protection do not change.”
“OpenAI’s decision to honor copyright only through an ‘opt-out’ model threatens the economic foundation of our entire industry and underscores the stakes in the litigation currently working through the courts,” newly elected President Sean Astin and National Executive Director Duncan Crabtree-Ireland said in a statement.
The dispute underscores a clash of two very different cultures. On one side is the brash, Silicon Valley “move fast and break things” ethos, where asking for forgiveness is seen as preferable to asking for permission. On the other is Hollywood’s eternal wariness over the effect of new technology, and its desire to retain control over increasingly valuable intellectual property rights.
“The difficulty, as we’ve seen, is balancing the capabilities with the prior rights owned by other people,” said Rob Rosenberg, a partner with law firm Moses and Singer LLP and a former Showtime Networks general counsel. “That’s what was driving the entire entertainment industry bonkers.”
Amid the outcry, Sam Altman posted on his blog days after the Sora 2 launch that the company would be giving more granular controls to rights holders and is working on a way to compensate them for video generation.
OpenAI said it has guardrails to block the generation of well-known characters and a team of reviewers who are taking down material that doesn’t follow its updated policy. Rights holders can also request removal of content.
The strong pushback from the creative community could be a strategy to force OpenAI into entering licensing agreements for the content they need, legal experts said.
Existing law is clear — a copyright holder has full control over their copyrighted material, said Ray Seilie, entertainment litigator at law firm Kinsella Holley Iser Kump Steinsapir.
“It’s not your job to go around and tell other people to stop using it,” he said. “If they use it, they use it at their own risk.”
Disney, Universal and Warner Bros. Discovery have previously sued AI firms MiniMax and Midjourney, accusing them of copyright infringement.
One challenge is figuring out a way that fairly compensates talent and rights holders. Several people who work within the entertainment industry ecosystem said they don’t believe a flat fee works.
“Bring monetization that is not a one size fits all,” said Dan Neely, chief executive of Chicago-based Vermillio, which works with Hollywood talent and studios and protects how their likenesses and characters are used in AI. “That’s what will move the needle for talent and studios.”
Visiting journalist Nilesh Christopher contributed to this report.
If there’s a scene that best encapsulates the tragically abbreviated career of John Candy, it’s not necessarily from his time on the sketch-comedy series “SCTV” or from movies like “Stripes” or “Uncle Buck.” It’s a moment in the 1987 comedy-drama “Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” when his reluctant roommate Neal Page (played by Steve Martin) has spent several minutes berating him for his relentless storytelling.
With a lump in his throat, Candy’s wounded character Del Griffith replies that he’s proud of who he is. “I like me,” he says. “My wife likes me. My customers like me. Because I’m the real article — what you see is what you get.”
That moment proves pivotal to two new projects that retrace Candy’s life and work some 31 years after the actor died from a heart attack at the age of 43. The actor would have turned 75 this month.
A biography, “John Candy: A Life in Comedy,” written by Paul Myers (released by House of Anansi Press on Tuesday), and a documentary, “John Candy: I Like Me,” directed by Colin Hanks (released Friday on Prime Video), both rely on Candy’s friends, family members and colleagues to help tell the story of his ascent, his success and the void left by his death.
In their own ways, both the book and the film show how Candy — while not without his demons — was beloved by audiences for his fundamental and authentic likability, and why he is still mourned today for the potential he never got to completely fulfill.
A family photo of John Candy and his son, Chris, seen in “John Candy: I Like Me.” (Prime Video)
John Candy, left, and Steve Martin in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles.” (Paramount Pictures)
Explaining why it was still important to memorialize Candy all these years later, Ryan Reynolds, the “Deadpool” star and a producer of the documentary, said, “When it’s something people desperately miss, but they don’t know they miss it, it’s a beautiful and rare thing. John Candy is a person that they missed desperately.”
Since his death, Candy’s immediate survivors — his widow, Rosemary; daughter, Jennifer Candy-Sullivan; and son, Chris Candy — have weighed the pluses and minuses of sharing his life with audiences and the impact it might have on them (the three are co-executive producers on the film). “It’s a balancing act,” said Chris Candy. “You want to live your life and you also want to honor theirs.”
In recent years, Candy’s children said they were encouraged by documentaries like Morgan Neville’s “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?,” about the children’s TV broadcaster Fred Rogers, as well as Hanks’ film “All Things Must Pass,” about the Tower Records retail chain.
Hanks, whose father, Tom, acted with Candy in films like “Splash” and “Volunteers,” said he struggled at first to find a compelling way to tell the story of Candy, who had a seemingly charmed and uncontroversial acting career, first in his native Toronto and then in Hollywood.
But Hanks said he was drawn into Candy’s story by a particular detail: the fact that Candy’s own father, Sidney, had died from heart disease at the age of 35, right before John turned 5. “It doesn’t take much to think about how traumatic that could be for anyone at any age,” Hanks said.
Chris Candy, from left, Jennifer Candy-Sullivan and Colin Hanks, who directed the Prime Video documentary “John Candy: I Like Me.”
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Myers, a musician and journalist who has written books about the band Barenaked Ladies and comedy troupe the Kids in the Hall, said he was drawn to Candy as a fellow Canadian and an embodiment of the national comedic spirit.
“If you’re Canadian like I am, you never stop thinking about John Candy,” Myers said. Growing up in the Toronto area, Myers said he and his siblings — including his brother Mike, the future “Shrek” and “Austin Powers” star — were avid fans of sketch comedy shows like “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” and “Saturday Night Live.”
But “SCTV,” which launched stars like Candy, Catherine O’Hara and Eugene Levy, meant even more to them. “We watched it from Day 1 and we cheered a little bit harder for them because it was like they were shooting the show blocks away from our house,” Myers said.
Reynolds, who was born and raised in Vancouver, said that Candy’s essential Canadian spirit was crucial to his success as a comic actor.
“In comedy, Canadians typically don’t punch down,” Reynolds said. “It’s more of a self-effacing humor. Their favorite target is themselves. And John did that. On screen, I felt his willingness and joy in self-effacing humor that never really veered into self-loathing humor.”
Ryan Reynolds at the Los Angeles screening of “I Like Me” earlier this month. The actor was a producer on the film.
(Todd Williamson / January Images)
Candy parlayed his repertoire of “SCTV” characters — satirical media personalities like Johnny LaRue and real-life celebrities like Orson Welles — into supporting parts in hit films like “National Lampoon’s Vacation,” “The Blues Brothers,” “Brewster’s Millions” and “Spaceballs.”
His penchants for drinking and smoking were well-known and hardly out of the ordinary for that era; they rarely impeded Candy’s work and, in at least one notable instance, seem to have enhanced it: Both the documentary and the biography recount how Candy indulged in a late-night bender with Jack Nicholson before rising the next morning to shoot a scene in “Splash” where his character fumbles, flails and smokes his way through a round of racquetball.
“That’s his work ethic, right there,” said Candy-Sullivan. “He showed up and he did the scene.”
Candy graduated to lead roles in comedies like “Summer Rental,” “The Great Outdoors” and “Who’s Harry Crumb?,” and he found a kindred spirit in the writer and director John Hughes, who helped provide Candy with some of his most enduring roles in movies like “Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” “Uncle Buck” and “Home Alone.”
But offscreen, Candy was contending with anxiety and he was sensitive to people’s judgments about his size — remarks which often came directly from TV interviewers who thought nothing of asking him point-blank whether Candy was planning to lose weight.
When he and his sister watched archival footage of these interviews in the documentary, Chris Candy said, “It was, for both of us, uncomfortable. I wasn’t familiar with what he was putting up with and how he would mentally jujitsu in and out of those conversations. He got more and more curt about it as time goes on, and you can see it in the interviews.”
But these psychic wounds didn’t make Candy a cruel or nasty person; he simply absorbed the hurt and redoubled his efforts to be a genial performer.
“If you’re looking for darkness in the story of John Candy, a lot of it’s just internalized pain,” Myers said. “His own coping mechanism was radical niceness to everybody — making human connections so that he would have community and feel like he’s making things better.”
In the early 1990s, Candy seemed to be working nonstop. He appeared in five different feature films in 1991 alone, a year that included duds like “Nothing But Trouble” as well as a small but potentially transformative role in Oliver Stone’s drama “JFK,” where he played the flamboyant attorney Dean Andrews Jr. He was preparing his own directorial debut, a TV film called “Hostage For a Day” in which he starred with George Wendt. Candy also became a co-owner and one-man pep squad for the Toronto Argonauts, the Canadian Football League team.
Eventually, the many demands and stresses in his life came to a head. Amid a grueling shoot for the western comedy “Wagons East” in Durango, Mexico, Candy died on March 4, 1994. He had a private funeral in the Los Angeles area, followed by a public memorial in Toronto that prompted a national outpouring of grief in Canada.
“He represented the best of us,” Myers said. “He was a humanity-centric person. He brought vulnerability and humility to his characters, which is not something you usually see in broad comedy.”
Candy’s films continue to play on television and streaming — both “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” and “Home Alone” have become year-end holiday staples. But for the people involved in chronicling Candy’s life, there is a creeping sense that the actor’s legacy will not tend to itself, and that the generations who did not grow up with Candy might need reminders of what made him worth remembering.
Hanks recalled a story from the making of “I Like Me” where he and some colleagues were dining at a restaurant where the hostess asked them what they were working on.
“We said we’re making a documentary,” Hanks said. “ ‘Oh, really?’ she goes. ‘Who’s it about?’ It’s about John Candy. She goes, ‘Oh, who’s that?’ No idea who it was. I said, well, have you seen ‘Home Alone’? Remember the polka guy that picks up the mom and takes her in the van? ‘Oh, I loved him. He’s great.’”
Part of his interest in making a film about Candy, Hanks said, is “wanting to showcase the man that people love and remind them why they loved them.”
But there is also the simple pleasure in introducing Candy’s work to people who haven’t seen it before. “If you’re lucky,” Hanks said, “you get to hopefully have them go, ‘God, I want to see those movies. I want to go watch ‘SCTV.’”
