SUPERMODEL Gigi Hadid looks a ray of sunshine at a charity event beside actress pal Anne Hathaway.
Gigi, 30, wearing a bright yellow dress, was there to support 42-year-old Anne, who was honoured at the 2025 Golden Heart Awards in New York.
Sign up for the Showbiz newsletter
Thank you!
Gigi Hadid looks a ray of sunshine at a charity event beside actress pal Anne HathawayCredit: GettyGigi, wearing a bright yellow dress, was there to support Anne, who was honoured at the 2025 Golden Heart Awards in New YorkCredit: Getty
Gigi has been dating American actor Bradley Cooper since 2023.
She was previously in a relationship with former One Direction member Zayn Malik.
Gigi shares four-year-old Khai with Zayn, and despite their shocking breakup, she says the couple now successfully co-parent with “love, and a feeling of camaraderie”.
Meanwhile, Bradley, 50, has an eight-year-old daughter, Lea De Seine, from his previous relationship with Gigi’s friend Irina Shayk.
“House of Guinness,” as in the famous Dublin brewery, begins with the disclaimer “inspired by true facts,” which is another way of saying, “Don’t believe everything you’ll see.” Or, in “Dragnet”-speak, “Names have not been changed, and we have no desire or obligation to protect the innocent. This is a drama, and anyway, you can’t libel the dead.” The framing may be sound, but the portraits are imaginary.
The unchanged names in the series, which premieres Thursday on Netflix, belong to the four children of Benjamin Lee Guinness, whose grandfather created the signature porter in 1778. They are Arthur (Anthony Boyle), Edward (Louis Partridge), Anne (Emily Fairn) and Benjamin (Fionn O’Shea). As we begin, it is 1868 and Benjamin Lee, just deceased, has left the brewery in equal shares to Arthur, who has been away in London for five years losing his accent and finding peace, and Edward, who has been pretty much running the place. Anne, only a woman, and a married one, is basically skipped over; and Benjamin, who has problems with drink and gambling, is given a small allowance, because, as expressed in his late father’s will, “I feel it wise not to burden Benjamin with the temptations that come with fortune.”
As seen here, neither Arthur nor Edward, whose professional expertise is mostly represented by signing papers and occasionally walking around his factory — you won’t learn anything about how Guinness is made — seems capable of running a brewery. But all that really matters to the show is that each is a tortured romantic and will have to find a way to thrive in their uneasy, unasked-for partnership.
Indeed, as a viewer in search of entertainment rather than enlightenment, it’s best to treat these characters, however much attached they are to the real people whose names they bear, as entirely fictional. There are also, of course, characters mixed up in this business who have no factual counterparts, and by virtue of their fates not being written in books or Wikipedia pages, are subject to the whims of series creator Steven Knight (“Peaky Blinders,” “A Thousand Blows,”), creating opportunities for suspense that might otherwise be lacking.
Prime among these creations are Sean Rafferty (James Norton), the Guinness family fixer, a handsome brute whom the ladies like, and the beautiful, brilliant Ellen Cochrane (Niamh McCormack), a Catholic firebrand who sees a better way toward Irish independence than throwing rocks at old man Guinness’ hearse or setting beer barrels on fire; for some reason, the Fenians, epitomized by Ellen’s “bonehead” brother Patrick (Seamus O’Hara), a grating presence and no advertisement for the movement, have decided that targeting Guinness (rich, Protestant) is going to get them somewhere.
James Norton as Sean Rafferty in “House of Guinness.”
(Ben Blackall / Netflix)
Apart from the politics, the family squabbles and the not particularly worrying fortunes of the family business — I mean, you can still order a Guinness — the main concerns of this historical melodrama, this stout opera, if you will, are beating hearts and heaving breasts. Skeptically accepting a meeting with Edward in the spirit of detente, Ellen feels electricity sparking between them, and vice versa. (More acceptably, Edward also has eyes for his cousin Adelaide Guinness, played by Ann Skelly, who has none for him.) Ben, meanwhile, is beloved by Lady Christine O’Madden (Jessica Reynolds), who foolishly believes she can reform him. Well, we’ve all seen that story.
But wait, there’s more! In this telling, at least, Arthur is gay, which is a problem for him as a person living in a super-religious country in the late 19th century and as a representative of the family and their eponymous product. If his orientation becomes known, it is suggested, the world will cease drinking his beer, and the family will be forced to subsist on the millions of pounds they have in the bank and whatever they can scrape off the several estates they own around the country. (Whenever contemporary figures are mentioned, screen-filling subtitles translate the sum into its 2025 equivalent, just so you realize how freaking rich these people were. The budget of the series is not sufficient to make that readily apparent.)
Arthur’s “complication,” which is no secret among his nonjudgmental siblings, has made him A) a target for blackmail, and B) a person in immediate need of a wife, especially as he’s about to stand for his late father’s seat in parliament. Enter Aunt Agnes Guinness (Dervla Kirwan), the story’s yenta, and marriage prospect Lady Olivia Hedges (Danielle Galligan), who is quite happy to settle for a maximum of freedom and a modicum of responsibility, and who curses in a most unladylike fashion. (But, really, the F-words and the Sh-words fly everywhere in this show.)
And what about Anne, saddled with a degenerative disease and a less-than-sexy cleric husband? She’ll sublimate her own romantic heartache in urban renewal and other good works. (Factually, the family had a philanthropic bent, and the company was so far ahead of its time in treating its workers well, including pensions beginning in the 1880s — that gets a moment here — and providing medical care to staff and their families, that much of this country still hasn’t caught up. They were less evolved, however, for many years, when it came to hiring Catholics.)
What else? There’s a curious Hobbit of a character named Byron Hedges (Jack Gleeson), an illegitimate cousin who arrives to sell himself as the man to represent their interests in America, into which Edward is keen to expand; we get some scenes set in New York. There’s Potter (Michael McElhatton), the droll, dry butler, who looks askance upon the younger Guinnesses but stays loyal, like butlers do. And Bonnie Champion (David Wilmot), a charismatic crime lord who’s also involved in the company’s export business.
There’s nothing subtle about “House of Guinness,” which makes its points in declarative sentences — sometimes gussied up with Irish-y prose — and gives its characters hardly a moment to relax and enjoy their porter, swelling the soundtrack with aggressive modern Irish rock and rap to make it exciting to the people of 2025. The show can border on the cornball; the characters are the sort you might have seen in the sort of dramas popular in 1868. But the actors inhabit their roles with commitment, so that even the bad company is good company. Good craic, as they say over there.
Everyone can use an editor, and Shakespeare is no exception. Fortunately, he married one.
Tired of being cooped up with the kids in Stratford-upon-Avon, Anne (Teal Wicks), wife of the great playwright, pops down to London to see the first performance of “Romeo and Juliet.” The new tragic ending that Shakespeare (Corey Mach) proudly previews to the company strikes her as completely wrongheaded.
“What if … Juliet doesn’t kill herself?” she proposes. As strong-willed as her husband, she doesn’t wish to argue the point. She merely wants to put her idea to the test.
Behold the premise of “& Juliet,” the euphoric dance party of a musical that updates Shakespeare with a dose of 21st century female empowerment. The production, which opened Friday at the Ahmanson Theatre under the fizzy direction of Luke Sheppard, reimagines a new post-Romeo life for Juliet while riding a magic carpet of chart-toppers from juggernaut Swedish producer Max Martin, who has spun gold with Katy Perry, Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys, among other pop titans.
Teal Wicks, left, and Rachel Webb in the North American Tour of “& Juliet.”
(Matthew Murphy)
This good-time jukebox musical relies as much on its wit as on its catalog of pop hits. The show’s music and lyrics are credited to Max Martin and friends — which sounds like a low-key cool table at the Grammy Awards. The clever book by Emmy winner David West Read (“Schitt’s Creek”) creates a world that can contain the show’s musical riches without having to shoehorn in songs in the shameless fashion of “Mamma Mia!”
Take, for instance, one of the early numbers, “I Want It That Way,” a pop ballad made famous by the Backstreet Boys. Anne starts singing the song when Shakespeare initially resists her idea of giving Juliet back her life. She wants him to go along with her suggested changes not because she’s sure she’s right but because she wants him to trust her as an equal partner. The song is redeployed in a way that has little bearing on the lyrics but somehow feels coherent with the original emotion.
Obviously, this is a commercial musical and not a literary masterpiece on par with Shakespeare’s tragedy of ill-starred lovers. “& Juliet” would have trouble withstanding detailed scrutiny of its plot or probing interrogation of Juliet’s character arc. But Read smartly establishes just the right party atmosphere.
Juliet (a vibrant Rachel Webb), having survived the tragedy once scripted for her, travels from Verona to Paris with an entourage to escape her parents, who want to send her to a nunnery for having married Romeo behind their backs. Her clique includes Angélique (Kathryn Allison), her nurse and confidant; May (Nick Drake), her nonbinary bestie; and April, her newbie sidekick out for fun who Anne plays in disguise. Shakespeare casts himself as the carriage driver, allowing him to tag along and keep tabs on the cockeyed direction his play is going.
In Paris, the crew heads directly to the Renaissance Ball, which has the look and feel of a modern-day mega-club. Entry is barred to Juliet, but not because she’s ridiculously underage. Her name isn’t on the exclusive guest list. So through the back door, Juliet and her traveling companions sashay as the production erupts in “Blow,” the Kesha song that encourages everyone to get their drink on and let loose.
Rachel Webb and the North American Tour Company of “& Juliet.”
(Matthew Murphy)
The dance setting — kinetically envisioned by scenic designer Soutra Gilmour, lighting designer Howard Hudson, sound designer Gareth Owen and video and projection designer Andrzej Goulding into a Dionysian video paradise — provides the all-purpose license for Martin’s music. It’s the atmosphere and the energy that matter most. Paloma Young’s extravagant costumes raise the level of decadent hedonism.
In this welcoming new context — imagine “Moulin Rouge! The Musical” suffused with girl power — there’s never anything odd about the characters grinding and wailing like karaoke superstars. The ecstatic motion of Jennifer Weber’s choreography renders dramatic logic irrelevant.
But love is the name of the game, and both Juliet and May fall for François (Mateus Leite Cardoso), a young musician with a geeky sense of humor who’s still figuring out his identity. May doesn’t expect romance to be part of their fate. In the Spears song “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman,” they give powerful expression to an inner confusion this musical romance is determined to sort out with an appropriate partner.
Unlike for the original characters, a happy ending is no longer off-limits. Shakespeare and Anne wrestle to get the upper hand of a plot that seems to have a mind of its own. Shakespeare pulls a coup at the end of the first act that I won’t spoil except to say that what’s good for the goose proves dramaturgically viable for the gander.
Teal Wicks, left, Rachel Webb, Nick Drake and Kathryn Allison in the North American Tour of “& Juliet.”
(Matthew Murphy)
This spirited competition stays in the background, but their marital happiness matters to us. Mach’s Shakespeare has the cocky strut of a rapper-producer with a long list of colossal hits. Wicks gives Anne the heartfelt complexity of one of her husband’s bright comic heroines. There’s a quality of intelligent feeling redolent of Rosalind in “As You Like It” in Wicks’ affecting characterization and luscious singing.
But the musical belongs to Juliet, and Webb has the vocal prowess to hijack the stage whenever she’s soaring in song. If Juliet’s character is still a work in progress, Webb endows her with a maturity beyond her years. She makes us grateful that the Capulet daughter is getting another crack at life. When the big musical guns are brought out late in the second act (“Stronger,” “Roar”), she delivers them as emancipatory anthems, fueled by hard-won epiphanies.
Allison’s Angélique is just as much a standout, renewing the bawdy earthiness of Shakespeare’s nurse with contemporary sass and rousing singing. If the supporting cast of men doesn’t make as deep an impression, the festive comic universe is nonetheless boldly brought to life.
“& Juliet” bestows the alternative ending everyone wishes they could script for themselves — a second chance to get it right. This feel-good musical is just what the doctor ordered in these far less carefree times.
‘& Juliet’
Where: Ahmanson Theatre, 135 N. Grand Ave., L.A.
When: 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays-Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays, 2 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 1 and 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends Sept. 7
The Nolans singer spoke of the emotional moment on ITV’s Good Morning Britain
Anne Nolan appeared on Good Morning Britain(Image: ITV)
Anne Nolan has opened up about the emotional moment she found out she was cancer free.
The Nolans singer, and sister of Loose Women’s Coleen Nolan, has battled breast cancer twice.
Earlier this year, the family lost Linda to the disease, while Bernie died of the same illness in 2013.
Anne, 74, received the news just days ago that she was cancer-free, having been first diagnosed in 2000 and then 20 years later.
Appearing on Monday’s Good Morning Britain, she shared the emotional journey she’s faced, and the relief at her health update.
“It’s been very traumatic, when I received the letter a few weeks ago, I picked it up, and it said NHS, and I thought, ‘Oh I don’t want to know, I’m not sure if I want to know if it’s bad news.’
“And I put it aside for about ten minutes, and after a while my logical brain kicked in and said, ‘You have to find out, you need to know’.
“I opened it and it was all good news, and I had a bit of a weep at the beginning.
“I feel lucky, blessed, relieved, and then emotional thinking about my sisters having gone through the same thing but not surviving.”
Good Morning Britain airs weekdays from 6am on ITV1 and ITVX.
This is a breaking showbiz story and is being constantly updated. Please refresh the page regularly to get the latest news, pictures and videos. You can also get email updates on the day’s biggest stories straight to your inbox by signing up for our newsletters.
By Amy Bloom Random House: 272 pages, $28 If you buy books linked on our site, The Times may earn a commission from Bookshop.org, whose fees support independent bookstores.
Amy Bloom’s exquisite “I’ll Be Right Here” is a slim volume spanning close to a century. While it’s tempting to label the novel a family epic, that description would fail to capture how Bloom reconstitutes “family” on the page, or how her chapters ricochet forward and backward from decade to decade or year to year, shifting perspective not only from character to character, but from first- to third-person point of view.
These transitions, while initially dizzying, coalesce into a rhythm that feels fresh and exciting. Together they suggest that memory conflates the past, present and future, until at the end, our lives can be viewed as a richly textured tapestry of experience and recollection, threaded together by the people we’ve loved.
The novel opens with a tableau: Siblings Alma and Anne tend to their longtime friend, who’s dying. They tenderly hold Gazala’s hands in a room that “smells like roses and orange peel.” Honey — once Anne’s sister-in-law and now her wife — massages Gazala’s thin feet with neroli oil. “Anne pulls up the shade. The day is beautiful. Gazala turns her face away from the light, and Alma pulls the shade back down.” Samir “presses his hand over his mouth so that he will not cry out at the sight of his dying sister.” Later in the novel, these five will come to be dubbed “the Greats” by their grandchildren.
The scene is a foreshadow, and signals that the novel will compress time, dwelling on certain details or events, while allotting mere lines to other pivotal moments, or allowing them to occur offstage, in passing. At first this is disorienting, but Bloom’s bold plot choices challenge and enrich.
In 1930 Paris, a young Gazala and her adopted older brother, Samir, await the return of their father from his job at a local patisserie, when they hope to sample “cinnamon montecaos, seeping oil into the twist of paper,” or perhaps a makroud he’s baked himself. In their cold, tiny apartment, Samir lays Gazala “on top of his legs to warm us both, and then, as the light fails, our father comes home.”
The Benamars are Algerians, “descended from superior Muslims and Christians both, and a rabbi,” their father, M., tells them. He delights in tall tales of a Barbary lion that has escaped Northern Africa and now roams the streets of Paris. Years elapse in the course of a few pages, and it’s 1942 in Nazi-occupied France. One night before bed, M. Benamar shreds the silk lining from a pair of worn gabardine pants to craft a belt for his daughter. Then,“he lies down on the big mattress he shares with Samir and turns his face to the wall.” He never awakens.
Now orphans — we don’t know exactly how old they are — the pair must conceal that they are on their own. Samir lines up a job where their father worked, while the owner’s wife finds Gazala a position as companion to a renowned writer, offering her “up to Mme. Colette like a canape.” Colette (yes, that one!) suffers from arthritis, and is mostly bedridden. She hides her Jewish husband upstairs, while entertaining guests below. Gazala observes that her benefactor’s “eyes are slanted under the folds of her brows, kohl-rimmed cat’s eyes in a dead-white face, powder in every fold and crack.”
Soon, the sister and brother’s paths diverge, and Gazala makes her way to New York City.
It’s 1947. Through Colette, Gazala has found work at a shop on Second Avenue, and sleeps in the storeroom above. Enter Anne and Alma Cohen, teenage sisters who take an instant liking to Gazala and her French accent; in short order, they’ve embraced her as a third sibling. Months later, there is a knock on the bakery door, and it’s Samir, returned from abroad, in search of Gazala. For the rest of their lives, the nonblood-related siblings will conceal that they are lovers.
Going forward, the plot zigs and zags, dipping in and out of each character’s life. It’s 2010 in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., where Samir and Gazala have lived together in a rambling old house for decades, maintaining appearances by keeping separate bedrooms. They are old, and Samir “brushes her silver hair away from his lips.” She tells him she doesn’t mind that he smells of the shallots in their garden.
It’s 1968, and Anne, by now a wife, mother and lawyer, has fallen in love with her husband Richard’s sister, Honey. We glimpse their first sexual encounter after years of simmering emotions. Alma — who receives minimal attention from her author — marries a bighearted chicken farmer named Izzy, and later grieves the early loss of her husband, and the absence of children.
As they grow older, the circle consisting of Gazala, Samir, Anne, Alma and Honey will grow to include Lily, Anne’s daughter, and eventually Lily’s daughter, Harry. Gazala and Samir take in Bea, whose parents were killed in a car accident; she becomes the daughter they never had. This bespoke family will support each of its members through all that is to come.
It’s 2015 in Poughkeepsie, and Gazala’s gauzy figures float through her fading consciousness. Beneath the tree outside her window — ”huge and flaming gold” — sits her father, reading the paper. “Madame pours mint tea into the red glasses.” The other Greats are gathered round. One last memory, the most cherished of all: It’s 1984 and Gazala and Samir are in their 50s. He proposes a vacation in Oaxaca. “Let’s go as we are,” he whispers. At their hotel, “they sit beneath the arches, admiring the yellow sun, the blue sky, the green leaves on the trees, all as bright as a children’s drawing.” There, they freely express their love for each other.
As Bloom has demonstrated throughout her stellar literary career, which began in 1993 with the publication of her acclaimed story collection, “Come to Me,” she can train her eye on any person, place or object and render it sublime. Her prose is so finely wrought it shimmers. Again and again she has returned to love as her primary subject, each time finding new depth and dimension, requiring us to put aside our expectations and go where the pages take us. As readers, we’re in the most adept of hands.
Haber is a writer, editor and publishing strategist. She was director of Oprah’s Book Club and books editor for O, the Oprah Magazine.
Jeremy Vine and Ken Bruce front two new quiz shows this week, promising plenty of mind-bending twists this week. But there are also plenty of dramas for fans of explosive thrills.
New shows will keep everyone entertained this week
Prince William and Princess Anne have shaped modern monarchy in their own way – so it’s no surprise Channel 5 is dedicating two documentaries on the heir to the throne and the Princess Royal this week.
The broadcaster has also promised exciting challenges ahead with Celebrity Puzzling, a brand new puzzle game show in which Jeremy Vine defies household names to the ultimate puzzle game.
Ken Bruce follows a similar theme on Channel 4 with his PopMasterTV heading to the small screen. ITV2, on the other hand, is introducing a ground-breaking comedy with Jordan Gray taking the lead in Transaction. Here are all the shows you need to keep an eye on this week.
Prince William is at the centre of a new documentary this week on Channel 5(Image: UEFA via Getty Images)
Prince William: Passion, Honour…
Saturday, 5
Prince William takes centre stage in this candid and revealing documentary that charts his journey from childhood to the present day. Using rare archival footage and key interviews, it explores his upbringing, relationship with his mother, Princess Diana, and very public fallout with Prince Harry.
Poised to be kind, William is presented not just as a royal, but as a man shaped by loss and duty. It’s a fascinating portrait of a prince on the brink of kingship and a man navigating family, fame and the future.
Busted were among many favourites featured on the stage of Capital’s Summertime Ball this year(Image: GETTY)
With Eurovision favourites Remember Monday also hitting the stage, expect fireworks, sing-alongs and feel-good vibes in one of the UK’s most anticipated music events of the summer.
Back with its third season, The Gilded Age is a deliciously dramatic look at the clash between old money and new ambition in 1880s America.
Bertha Russell (Carrie Coon) has her eyes set on social domination while her husband George (Morgan Spector) risks everything in a financial gamble.
With stunning visuals, iconic returns from Cynthia Nixon and Christine Baranski, and cutthroat stakes, it’s a lavish, addictive drama about legacy, power and what people will do to keep their place in history.
Ken Bruce brings his iconic quiz show to the small screen for Channel 4(Image: PA)
PopMasterTV
Monday, C4
Ken Bruce brings his beloved music quiz to TV, and it’s as charming as ever. Five music buffs face off in a battle of pop trivia, racing through decades of chart history in a fame where memory is everything.
With singalong classics, retro facts and Ken’s dry wit holding it all together, PopMasterTV is a nostalgic gem. Whether you’re a chart nerd of a casual fan, it’s the kind of feel-good, comforting telly that’ll have you shouting answers from the sofa.
Crime Scene Cleaners
Monday, C4
Behind every crime scene lies a brutal mess – and a clean-up crew willing to face the unthinkable. This ten-part series follows real-life trauma cleaners in the UK and US as they scrub, sanitise and support victims’ families through unimaginable loss.
From robberies to gruesome murders, it’s gritty, graphic and gut-wrenching – but also deeply humane. With 24/7 call-outs and extraordinary compassion, Crime Scene Cleaners shines a light on the unsung heroes helping others start over – one horrific job at a time.
Jeremy Vine challenges household names like Carol Vorderman and Sally Lindsay to resolve mind-bending puzzles
Celebrity Puzzling
Tuesday, 5
It’s brains over brawn in this cosy celebrity competition hosted by Jeremy Vine. Team captains Carol Vorderman and Sally Lindsay star with their celeb squads, going head-to-head in battles of logic, memory, wordplay and wit.
With laugh-out-loud moments, surprisingly tense showdowns and appearances from stars like Gareth Malone and Scarlett Moffatt, Celebrity Puzzling is perfect telly for puzzle lovers. It’s gentle, satisfying and the perfect watch to unwind.
Jordan Gray fronts a hilarious new comedy on ITV2, portraying a reluctant nightshift worker(Image: ITV)
Transaction
Tuesday, ITV2
Jordan Gray is a force of nature in this chaotic comedy about Liv, a trans nightshift worker who makes her supermarket shift anything but ordinary.
Hired as a PR stunt after the manager (Nick Frost) makes an offensive remark, Liv quickly realises she’s unsackable – and uses it to cause glorious havoc.
Transaction is sharp, silly and proudly anarchic, with Jordan’s wild charisma driving every scene. It’s messy, loud and defiant – and one of the boldest new British comedies in ages.
Ironheart
Tuesday, Disney+
After the events of Wakanda Forever, Riri Williams takes the MCU baton in Ironheart, a sleek new Marvel series where tech meets magic.
Dominique Throne shines as Riri, an MIT genius caught in a dangerous game with the mysterious Parker Robbins (Anthony Ramos). As tensions rise between science and sorcery, Riri must build more than a super-suit – she has to build her own legacy. Big on action, packed with heart and essential for Phase Five fans, this is Marvel’s next big swing.
The Kim Kardashian Diamond Heist
Wednesday, BBC3
In 2016, Kim Kardashian was tied up at gunpoint in a Paris hotel and robbed of millions in jewels – a crime that shocked the world. This gripping BBC doc unpacks the full story, from police investigations and trial footage to interviews with journalists and those close to the US reality TV star.
Revisiting that terrifying night and the global fallout, this documentary uncovers details that were kept quiet – until now. It’s glossy, revealing and surprisingly emotional.
Amol Rajan reconnects with his Indian roots in a powerful documentary(Image: CREDIT LINE:BBC/Wildstar Films)
Amol Rajan embarks on a moving and personal journey to India’s Maha Kumbh Mela, the world’s largest religious gathering. Surrounded by millions of pilgrims and extraordinary rituals, he reflects on faith, family and identity – while reconnecting with his birthplace.
This isn’t just a documentary about spectacle; it’s a deep, soulful exploration of belonging and spirituality. Beautifully shot and quietly profound, this one-off hour captures something few travel shows ever do: the emotional pull of home and the power of belief.
Jeremy Allen White reprises his role as Carmy in The Bear’s fourth season(Image: Brentwood Gazette)
The Bear
Thursday, Disney +
Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) is back in the kitchen for season four, and the heat is on. With the restaurant gaining momentum and the stakes rising, Carmy, Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) and Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) face new hurdles that threaten to boil over.
A raw, intense exploration of ambition, grief and grit, The Bear mixes chaos and tenderness with razor-sharp precision. Get ready for more kitchen meltdowns and quiet victories in this unmissable drama.
Will Gi-hun be able to stop the game once and for all?(Image: No Ju-han/Netflix)
The global hit reaches its final act, and Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae) is out for justice. Haunted by his past and driven by grief, he sets out to destroy the Game once and for all.
But the elusive Front Man (Lee Byung-hun) has other plans, and the psychological warfare only deepens. Directed by Hwang Dong-hyuk, this intense, emotional conclusion delivers shocks, heart and explosive tension as Squid Game cements its place in TV history with an unforgettable final chapter.
Princess Anne shines in a new hour-long documentary(Image: Tim Merry/Staff Photographer)
Princess Anne: Royal Rule Breaker
Friday, 9pm, 5
She’s the monarchy’s steeliest operator and this 90-minute documentary finally gives her her due. Often overlooked but never outdone, Princess Anne has quietly become the Royal Family’s hardest grafter and boldest spirit.
From Olympic glory to diplomatic duty, this film traces her evolution from headstrong teen to pillar of the Crown. Featuring expert insight, archive footage and rare glimpses behind palace doors, it’s a tribute to a woman who plays by her own rules – and rarely puts a foot wrong.
Anne Burrell, the quick-witted host of Food Network’s “Worst Cooks in America,” has died. She was 55.
The television personality died Tuesday morning at her home in New York, according to her publicist.
“Anne was a beloved wife, sister, daughter, stepmother and friend — her smile lit up every room she entered,” Burrell’s family said in a statement. “Anne’s light radiated far beyond those she knew, touching millions across the world. Though she is no longer with us, her warmth, spirit and boundless love remain eternal.”
Born and raised in Cazenovia, N.Y., Burrell, inspired by her mother and celebrity chef Julia Child, expressed an interest in food from a young age. She earned her degree in English and communication at Canisius College in Buffalo, N.Y., and later attended the Culinary Institute of America.
During her time on Food Network, Burrell was best known for her Italian cuisine — particularly pasta — and competitive fire. She got her start on TV as a sous-chef for Mario Batali on “Iron Chef America,” where she honed her skills in competition cooking before launching her own cooking show, “Secrets of a Restaurant Chef,” in 2008.
“Anne was a remarkable person and culinary talent — teaching, competing and always sharing the importance of food in her life and the joy that a delicious meal can bring. Our thoughts are with Anne’s family, friends and fans during this time of tremendous loss,” said a Food Network spokesperson.
Burrell had been a steady presence on the network, competing in “The Next Iron Chef,” “Chopped,” “Guy’s Grocery Games” and “Beat Bobby Flay.” She was also a longtime host and mentor on “Worst Cooks in America,” where she coached teams of novice cooks as they competed while improving their culinary skills. She had various co-hosts since 2010 during the show’s 28-season run.
Most recently, she appeared in the first season of “House of Knives,” a seemingly “Game of Thrones”-inspired reality series, hosted by Scott Conant, where she was among the top chefs competing to sit on the culinary throne.
Burrell authored two cookbooks: New York Times bestseller “Cook Like a Rock Star” (2011) and “Own Your Kitchen: Recipes to Inspire & Empower” (2013).
She is survived by her husband, Stuart Claxton; stepson, Javier; mother, Marlene; siblings, Jane and Ben; nieces, Isabella and Amelia; and nephew, Nicolas.