apology

The famed hip-hop mogul told the court that his actions were ‘disgusting’ and ‘shameful’ in a plea for leniency.

Musician and producer Sean “Diddy” Combs has been sentenced to four years and two months in prison for transporting people across state lines for sexual encounters.

His sentencing hearing on Friday capped a federal case that featured harrowing testimony and ended in a forceful reckoning for one of the most popular figures in hip-hop. Combs, 55, was also fined half a million dollars.

Since Combs has served a year in jail already, he is expected to be released in about three years. His lawyers wanted him freed immediately and said the time behind bars has already forced him to embrace remorse and sobriety.

He was convicted in July of flying his girlfriends and male sex workers around the country to engage in drug-fuelled sexual encounters, a practice that happened over many years and in different locations. However, he was acquitted of sex trafficking and racketeering charges that could have put him behind bars for life.

“Why did it happen so long?” US District Judge Arun Subramanian asked as he handed down the sentence. “Because you had the power and the resources to keep it going, and because you weren’t caught.”

Combs showed no visible change of emotion as he learned his sentence, sitting in his chair and looking straight ahead as the judge spoke. He remained subdued afterwards and appeared dejected, with none of the enthusiasm and smiles that accompanied his interactions with lawyers and his family earlier in the day.

In a final word before sentencing, Combs told the judge his years of behaviour were “disgusting, shameful” and apologised to the people he had hurt physically and mentally. He said his acts of domestic violence were a burden he would have to carry for the rest of his life.

His defence lawyers played an 11-minute video in court portraying Combs’ family life, career and philanthropy. At one point during the video, Combs put a hand on his face and began to cry.

His nearly two-month trial in a federal court in Manhattan featured testimony from women who said Combs had beaten, threatened, sexually assaulted and blackmailed them. Prosecutor Christy Slavik told the judge that sparing Combs serious prison time would excuse years of violence.

“It’s a case about a man who did horrible things to real people to satisfy his own sexual gratification,” she said. “He didn’t need the money. His currency was control.”

Combs was convicted under the Mann Act, which bans transporting people across state lines for prostitution. Defence lawyer Jason Driscoll argued the law was misapplied.

During testimony at the trial, former girlfriend Casandra “Cassie” Ventura told jurors that Combs ordered her to have “disgusting” sex with strangers hundreds of times during their decade-long relationship. Jurors saw video of him dragging and beating her in a Los Angeles hotel hallway.

Another woman, identified as “Jane”, testified she was pressured into sex with male workers during drug-fuelled “hotel nights” while Combs watched and sometimes filmed.

The only accuser scheduled to speak Friday, a former assistant known as “Mia”, withdrew after defence objections. She has accused Combs of raping her in 2010 and asked the judge for a sentence that reflects “the ongoing danger my abuser poses”.

Late night has a new tone in 2025, and Greg Gutfeld is the one setting it, one unpredictable quip at a time. Rewriting the rules and bringing his signature acerbic style to “Gutfeld!” on Fox News, his show is drawing in more than 3 million viewers nightly, making it the most-watched show at the edge of prime time at 10 p.m. Eastern time / 7 p.m. Pacific time, airing over 90 minutes earlier than such hosts as Jimmy Kimmel and Jimmy Fallon

Stacking up gigs, he’s also the resident wild card on the network’s hit show “The Five,” and he hosts the new reality game show “What Did I Miss?” on Fox Nation, which was just renewed for a second season. Gutfeld isn’t just leaving his mark on the network; he’s reshaping it.

Before he became polarizing to some, and well before his New York Times bestsellers and his night of reminiscing on Jimmy Fallon’s couch, Gutfeld was climbing the editorial ranks at magazines like Men’s Health, Stuff and Maxim. His biggest break came when he landed the very late slot hosting his own Fox News show, “Red Eye,” which would set the stage for his runaway success.

Taking nothing too serious while being surrounded by complete seriousness, and with “Gutfeld!” pulling in some of the strongest ratings on TV, he’s proving that irreverence can be its own kind of relevance. His refusal to put so-called untouchables on a pedestal has everyone taking notice, and like him, loathe him or don’t know what to think about a grown man obsessed with unicorns, there’s no denying that Gutfeld has turned having a good time into a full-time job. And he’s just getting warmed up.

How do you find out you’re No. 1 in the 10 p.m. timeslot ? Is there a cake and a massive check?

It’s more brought to you and then happens over time. I get ratings every single day, so I was able to watch us win. I guess I wasn’t that surprised by it; I just knew that it was going to take time. I thought, yeah, maybe in a couple of years, but it was in like a matter of months.

For old–school fans of “Red Eye,” “Gutfeld!” feels familiar, with the blended panel that’s always down to have a good time. But now everyone gets more comfortable chairs, which is nice too.

I agree. “Gutfeld!” is basically “Red Eye” but for everybody. Red Eye was operating on the assumption that you really had a select group of people awake at 2 or 3 in the morning. It wasn’t trying to be a cultlike pleasure; it just happened to be that way. We did want it to be for everyone, though. Now we have 10 times the viewers and we’re No. 1, so in my mind I’m going, I want the same sensibility, but I don’t want to completely confuse the viewers. I realize that my humor on “Red Eye” was deliberately obtuse in some ways, and not really deliberately. It was just surreal and bizarre, and maybe that won’t fly in prime time or late night, but like “Red Eye,” our show now is as interesting and unpredictable as that show was. And that’s 90% of the fight.

There’s definitely an unpredictability theme going on because “The Five” can get somewhat fiery at times, but not for the reasons one would think.

With “Gutfeld!” and with “The Five,” I really push the concept of teasing, because when I genuinely like somebody, I tease them. When everybody is together teasing each other, it’s a very fun thing and the viewers are in on it. On “Red Eye,” we were all basically roasting each other, and on my show, we’re all making fun of each other, some more than others. On “The Five,” of course, I needle Dana [Perino] and Jesse [Watters], they needle me, I go after Jessica [Tarlov], she makes fun of us all — we all do it, and I think that’s really the secret sauce to the success of “The Five,” “Gutfeld!” and why “Red Eye” was so beloved. You felt like you were with the people. It was like a perverted version of “Friends.”

There really is this vibe that, no matter what gets said, when the camera goes off you’re all knocking back a few together.

Yeah, I think the key is that nothing you say should warrant an apology. Meaning, if I were to insult you, you’re not going to demand an apology from me. When somebody wants an apology for a comment I always ask them, “How would that apology sound? I’m sorry that the jokes I made hurt your feelings?” How insulting is that to that person you’re apologizing to! I’m sorry I hurt your feelings with this insult. It’s like the people that are demanding an apology don’t even see how absolutely insulting it is that they are asking for it.

Some people really write their own headlines. I imagine yours ramped up after you took “The King of Late Night” joke and ran with it?

I’m trying to think where “the king” came from, and I think I have to credit Dave Rubin. I think Rubin was on during the first week of the show and said something like, “You’re going to be the king of late night. You’re going to be No. 1.” I don’t like saying stuff like that because then it’ll just be thrown back in your face, but he was right! Then, of course, I had to put it on my book cover. I don’t even know how that all happened, but putting it on the cover of my book was just, like, this audacious and ridiculous thing, having me on the top like I’m a skyscraper where King Kong swatted down people.

Silly is definitely your lane. What do you think the term “late night” even means anymore? It used to be pretty neutral, and now it’s almost like you better choose a side before you watch this comic make their TV debut!

Yeah, it kind of became defined as maybe a person who wanted to go to bed angry with somebody who wanted to go to bed happy. One thing that I always want to do is not send people to bed enraged. Sure, maybe you’re sad that Biden lost, but we’re going to have so much fun, and this is going to be great! And then Trump wins. This is going to be so much fun, and this is going to be great! So, we’re going to have fun, and things are going to be great no matter who wins or loses. I’m not going to let that impact the time that we have. I think doing a late-night show that makes everyone feel bad is a disservice. I don’t understand that. That’s when you have people switching the channel to come to us. They didn’t even know that we existed until then.

What a shakeup that channel flip caused and, also, it’s pretty monumental because the viewers are staying.

You know, for a long time they couldn’t even mention my name and it was a personal thing for them, but then I think they realized that all I did was point out what was missing. I mean, they gave me the opportunity by not addressing most of the country, and it was there for the taking. There was literally free money on the table, and so I took it, and I showed [mainstream media] that they don’t own the culture. I think it’s not just about late night; it’s about all of culture. It’s the ability to tell people, you aren’t the cool kids at the table anymore. You took people for granted, you insulted everybody else, and we’re the ones now who are having fun.

Seeing you on Fallon also looked like a lot of fun. You could seriously feel your excitement as you told him your drunken story of meeting him. You think he’d ever come on ”Gutfeld!”?

It was fun! It went the way I think we both wanted it to go, which was like an old-school TV segment you would have seen on Carson. Just two people having a fun conversation. I probably talked too much, but I had to tell that drinking story because I’ve been telling that story for years, and the only person I hadn’t told that to was Jimmy. So yeah, we were both happy about it, and it’s good to see two industry people in whatever “supposed rivalry” who genuinely like each other without that other bull—. I haven’t asked him to come on, though. Our show is a little different because if you come on, you’re on for the whole hour. You’re also on with other people so it’s kind of a bigger ask of someone, but the president did do it so…

BBC Breakfast had a slight technical glitch during the latest live broadcast, which did not go unnoticed by hosts Charlie Stayt and Naga Munchetty.

BBC Breakfast encountered some technical hiccups during Thursday’s live transmission.

During the programme on July 17, presenters Charlie Stayt and Naga Munchetty crossed to Mike Bushell, who was broadcasting live from The Open Championship at Royal Portrush.

But as the BBC correspondent began speaking with former champion Andrew Murray, both men suddenly became frozen on screen.

Spotting the technical glitch, the show quickly returned to Charlie and Naga, who were swift to acknowledge the problem.

Naga explained: “Apologies there. We’re having some issues. I don’t think a golf ball has hit our satellite truck to knock it out of service, but we’ll have a look, we’ll have a quick check.”

The BBC presenter assured viewers they would continue receiving updates from Royal Portrush throughout the morning as they smoothly transitioned to the weather forecast, reports the Express.

Fortunately, the technical troubles were swiftly sorted, with Mike returning on-air during a subsequent segment to cover the golfing tournament.

Prior to the minor technical hitch, Charlie had playfully ribbed his colleague about his unusually subdued manner.

He remarked: “I wouldn’t say that Mike Bushell is one of the loudest broadcasters we have, but this morning he was particularly hushed when we threw to him earlier on, for all the right reasons.”

Naga responded: “Do you know what it was? He was behaving and applying good etiquette.”

The 59-year-old humorously pretended to take umbrage at their comments about his quieter-than-usual approach.

He remarked: “There’s some more players coming through, so I will go into my dulcet quiet tones again in a moment.

“You seem surprised that I’m well behaved and showing etiquette and politeness, how dare you?!”

Despite the cheeky comments, he continued with his broadcast in his usual professional manner.

During his segment, Mike expressed his astonishment at the size of the event, saying: “You’ve got this little town of Royal Portrush on the beautiful North coast, which usually has a population, I’m told, of 11,000.

“It suddenly becomes this sporting metropolis with 287,000 fans here over the next three days, generating £213m for the Northern Ireland economy.”

Viewers can catch up with BBC Breakfast on BBC iPlayer.

For months, CBS News has been roiled with trepidation that parent company Paramount Global would write a big check to make President Trump’s $20 billion lawsuit go away.

On Tuesday night, those fears came true.

Paramount Global agreed to pay $16 million to settle Trump’s legal salvo against “60 Minutes” over the editing of an interview with his 2024 opponent, then-Vice President Kamala Harris.

Within the news organization, there was anger over what is widely seen as a capitulation to Trump in order to clear a path for Paramount’s $8-billion merger with David Ellison’s Skydance Media. The case was labeled as frivolous by 1st Amendment experts.

But among some CBS News veterans, tempers were calmed by a sobering reality: that the outcome could have been worse.

The biggest concern inside the news division since Trump’s complaint was that the media company would be strong-armed into making an apology or statement of regret over a case that they believed had no merit. Amid the internal anger over the settlement, there is relief that that did not happen.

“Everybody knew that was a line in the sand,” said a relieved CBS News veteran not authorized to comment publicly on the matter.

Another journalist at the network, speaking on the same condition, said the thinking among many was that any financial payment of less than $20 million without an apology would count as a partial win.

As the negotiations to end the suit lingered, it became more apparent that corporate interests overrode any concerns about the appearance of caving to Trump’s demands.

Trump filed suit in October, claiming “60 Minutes” edited an interview with Harris to make her look smarter and bolster her chances in the election, which Trump won decisively. CBS denied the claims, saying the edits were routine.

“If there wasn’t a merger pending and they took this to court they would have won,” the journalist said of Trump’s case. “I think they understood that if they made an apology they would have an internal rebellion and they would have because there was nothing to apologize for.”

Some say that the departures of former “60 Minutes” executive producer Bill Owens and CBS News and stations head Wendy McMahon were enough to satisfy the Trump camp‘s desire for an apology. Both executives were adamant that CBS News did nothing improper in the handling of the Harris of interview.

Trump’s legal team claimed victory.

“President Donald J. Trump delivers another win for the American people as he, once again, holds the Fake News media accountable for their wrongdoing and deceit,” a spokesman said in a statement.

But while “60 Minutes” avoided the humiliation that would have come with a statement of contrition, the program that is the foundation of the news division now has to move forward in an era of media mistrust on the political right and disappointment on the left by those who believe courage is in short supply.

According to several CBS News insiders who spoke to The Times, no one is expected to depart “60 Minutes” in protest of the settlement decision.

Andrew Heyward, a former CBS News president who is now a consultant, said it will be up to the new owners of CBS to maintain the program’s journalistic independence. “If that’s jeopardized in the future, that would be unfortunate for CBS News and the country,” he said.

Though there is anger, many feared a bleak future for the news organization and the rest of the network if Paramount Global couldn’t close the Skydance deal. The lawsuit was seen as an obstacle to the deal, which needs approval from the Federal Communications Commission, run by Trump appointee Brendan Carr.

“We can get outraged all we want, but the fact is we were in a really precarious situation,” said one of the journalists not authorized to speak publicly. “If that merger went dead, I don’t know if anyone would have come along and bought the whole company.”

While ownership change usually generates fear and uncertainty through media organizations, insiders at CBS News say they will be happy to see Paramount Global’s controlling shareholder Shari Redstone in their rearview mirror once the Skydance deal is done.

The feelings inside the news division regarding Skydance range from hope for new investment from deep-pocketed Ellison to resignation that “it can’t get any worse.”

As for any damage to its reputation, CBS News is taking some comfort in the fact that ABC News hasn’t noticeably suffered from its own $16 million settlement over anchor George Stephanopoulos mistakenly saying Trump was convicted of rape rather than sexual abuse in the civil suit brought by E. Jean Carroll. Stephanopoulos signed a new contract at the network amid the controversy and his program “Good Morning America” hasn’t suffered a ratings loss since.

Viewers have high expectations for “60 Minutes,” which after 57 seasons still ranks as the most-watched news program on television (it’s also the most profitable show on CBS). If the program is allowed to maintain the same standard of deep reporting it’s known for, the audience will get past a bad corporate decision, according to Heyward.

“People on the right will say it’s another example of mainstream media getting what it deserves,” Heyward said. “People on the left will say it’s another example of a corporation caving to President Trump for its own selfish interests. And most people will go back to watching ’60 Minutes’ and expect strong independent reporting without fear or favor — that’s what really matters.”

Sunday Brunch hosts Tim Lovejoy and Simon Rimmer issued an apology to comedian Aisling Bea after they asked her a ‘boring’ question about motherhood

Sunday Brunch hosts Simon Rimmer and Tim Lovejoy playfully said sorry to comedian Aisling Bea after they quizzed her on her personal life.

The Irish comedian made an appearance on the Channel 4 morning show alongside guests like Big Zuu, with Kat Sadler and Lizzie Davidson from Such Brave Girls.

Almost immediately into the show, Tim disclosed a backstage chat with Aisling, prompting a cheeky apology from him.

He explained: “Aisling, this morning you came in and I said to you, ‘How is it being a mum?’ and then Simon said to you, ‘Congratulations, I’ve not seen you since becoming a mum,’ and you said, ‘Simon, the boring thing and being a mum is that everyone keeps asking about it’.”

“So I apologise for that,” he said with a chuckle: “But how is it being a mum?” reports the Manchester Evening News.

Aisling responded with playful repartee: “Thank you for apologising, I’ll work on forgiveness but I can’t guarantee it.”

She continued: “I still identify as a child-free, single lady because of the vibe but I do have a baby and a boyfriend.”

With her signature wit, Aisling commented on “rival show” Saturday Kitchen, saying her little one “couldn’t get her head around it” so she likely wasn’t watching her mum today.

Opening up about motherhood, she added: “I feel like I’m not a mum yet, at the start you’re just like dealing with a new person in the house, I think it’ll be a while before that feels like I’m a mother.”

Aisling revealed that she and her partner Jack Freeman became parents for the first time in August last year, after getting celebrities like Paul Rudd and Travis Kelce to announce her pregnancy news months earlier.

She took to Instagram to share the birth of her baby, posting a series of photos showing her growing bump, ending with a final snap of her cradling her newborn daughter in hospital.

In a playful post, she wrote: “Trip advisor review of Pregnancy One star,” and listed a series of “negatives” such as it being “expensive” and leaving her feeling “very unrested”.

“Not as described online or in pictures. Reminded me of the Glasgow Willie Wonka experience. Towards the end of my stay I was repeatedly kicked in the nuts,” she continued.

She then went on to list: “UTIs, bleeding, depression, cramps, insomnia, nosebleeds, sinus blockage, migraines, vomiting, being randomly touched by people without asking, bones mushing, organs moving, skin stretching, being told that you’ll forget all the pain/that it’s a privilege / that it will all be “worth it” in the end, heightened awareness of climate change and worst of all- boredom- all described as « normal » and was repeatedly recommended « a nice bath » as a fix to all of the above.”

Aisling also shared the “positives”, saying she enjoyed the bath at the end and appreciated the help with her bags, adding: “Before checking out, nearby kebab shop man provided free extra chips and quite a flirty wink, which I appreciated. Was given a little gift at check out which is, admittedly, quite cute. “

Sunday Brunch airs from 10am on Channel 4.

FX on Hulu has asked that a spoiler alert head any detailed reviews of the new, fourth season of “The Bear.” And while this review is not really detailed, everyone has their own idea of what constitutes a spoiler. So, read on, if you dare.

Most television series, and not just the best ones, are organic. You can plan in a vague way, but you learn as you go along — what the actors can do, what characters are going to demand more screen time, what unexpected opportunities present themselves, what the series is telling you about itself. This can make a show feel inconsistent across time, but often better in the end, as much as it may irritate viewers who liked how things were back at the beginning.

Early in the fourth season of “The Bear,” premiering Wednesday on FX on Hulu, the staff of the series’ eponymous restaurant finally sees the Chicago Tribune review they were anticipating throughout much of Season 3, and when it comes, it contains words like “confusing,” “show-offy” and “dissonant.” (It’s beautiful to see the review represented in a physical newspaper.) The show’s third season was accused by some fans and critics of similar things, and whether or not creator and showrunner Christopher Storer is drawing a comparison here, it’s true that “The Bear” doesn’t behave like most series — the recent shows it most resembles are “Atlanta” and “Reservation Dogs,” both from FX, and going back a little, HBO’s “Treme,” which, like “The Bear,” are less invested in plot than in character, place and feeling.

For all the series’ specific detail and naturalistic production, the eponymous Bear is a fairy-tale restaurant, staffed by people who not long before were hustling to get beef sandwiches out the door but, encouraged by Jeremy Allen White’s brilliant chef Carmen, have revealed individual superpowers in relatively short time. (Carmy asks Marcus, a genius of dessert played by Lionel Boyce, how he achieved a certain effect in a new sweet; “Legerdemain,” Marcus replies.) If you want to see real restaurants in operation, there are plenty of options, from Netflix’s “Chef’s Table,” to Frederick Wiseman’s “Menus-Plaisirs — Les Troisgros,” a four-hour film about a Michelin three-star restaurant in central France. (It streams from PBS.org; you have until March 2027 to catch it there, and should.) But this invented place, which is real enough for its purposes, is primarily a stage for human striving, failure and success — and love. Come for the food, stay for the people.

After the first two seasons, which involved transforming the Beef, the sandwich shop Carmy inherited from his late brother Mikey, and creating the Bear, the third looked around and over its shoulder, flashing back and stretching out and developing themes that are taken up again in Season 4, which begins so hot on the heels of three they might as well be one. (They were filmed back-to-back.) The chaos and expense created by Carmy’s “nonnegotiable” decision to change the menu every night; the prospect of the Tribune review; and a participation agreement for sous-chef-turned-creative partner Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) are still working their way through the story. It begins more prosaically, certainly when compared with the impressionistic montage that occupied the whole of last season’s opening episode. And, apart from an opening flashback in which Carmy tells Mikey (Jon Bernthal) of his vision for a restaurant (“We could make it calm, we could make it delicious, we could play good music, people would want to come in there and celebrate … we could make people happy”), it stays in the present, facing forward.

Once again, we get a ticking clock to create pressure; installed by the “uncle” they call Computer (Brian Koppelman), it’s timed not as before to the opening of the restaurant but to the point at which backer Uncle Jimmy (Oliver Platt) will pull out and the Bear will “cease operations.” (It’s set to 1,440 hours, or 60 days.) But deadlines come and go on this show, and though we’re treated to repeated shots of the countdown clock, it doesn’t create much actual tension. There is always something more immediately concerning, in the kitchen or out in the world.

Ticking clocks remain a motif in Season 4 of “The Bear.” Ayo Edebiri, left, with Liza Colón-Zayas in a scene from this season.

(FX)

For all his messing with the menu in search of a Michelin star, Carmy is stuck in a rut — cue clip from “Groundhog Day” — and has also become maddeningly inarticulate, almost beyond speech; much of what White does this year is listen and react, doing subtle work with his face and fingers, interjecting an occasional “Yeah,” while family or colleagues unburden themselves or take him to task. “Is this performative?” Richie asks a moping Carmy. “You waiting for me to ask if you’re OK?”

Some of his self-flagellation feels unearned — which I suppose is often the case with self-flagellation. (“You would be just as good … without this need for, like, mess,” says Syd.) Carmy can be a handful, but he’s led his team into this land of milk and honey, and if the Bear is dysfunctional, it nevertheless manages to put food on the table, create delight and pay its people. Still, this is a season of apologies — even Uncle Jimmy is saying he’s sorry, through a closed door, to his teenage son — and reconciliations. (You didn’t suppose you’d seen the last of Claire, Carmy’s on-again, off-again romantic interest, played by Molly Gordon?)

Some developments can seem abrupt, possibly because so many of these characters are bad at communicating or lie about how they’re feeling, saying that everything is OK when everything is not OK. But in the long view, the view that extends even beyond the end of the series, whether it comes sooner or later, everything will be OK. Whatever Emmy nitpickers might have to say about its category, “The Bear” is most definitely a comedy; there’ll be obstacles, but everyone’s on a road to happiness. A double-wide episode, set at the wedding of Richie’s ex-wife, Tiffany (Gillian Jacobs), mirrors the calamitous “Fishes” Christmas-dinner episode from Season 2, with most of that extended cast present again. But here, there is dancing.

Richie, running the front of the house, continues on his journey of self-improvement, crafting inspirational addresses to the staff, meditating on a photo of a Japanese Zen garden and dealing in an adult way with his soon-to-be-remarried ex-wife and daughter; the Bear has become his lifeline. Gary (Corey Hendrix, getting some deserved screen time) is being educated as a sommelier; Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas) is working to put pasta on the plate in under three minutes; Ebraheim (Edwin Lee Gibson) is killing it at the sandwich window and looking to “create opportunity” with a new delivery app, a robot called Chuckie and a business mentor (Rob Reiner). Come for the food, stay for the people.

Above all, this is Syd’s year, which is, of course, also to say Edebiri’s. She’s got decisions to make and has been given long, often intense, two-person scenes, not only with Carmy but with Jimmy and Claire and an 11-year-old girl she suddenly finds herself babysitting, and with whom she spends most of an episode; Syd describes her dilemma in terms an 11-year-old might understand and receives the blunt advice an 11-year-old might give.

Carmy, for his part, thinks he knows how to fix things, which he will finally get around to sharing. Is it a good idea? Will it work? Will we ever know, and do we need to know? Is this the final season? (No one has said.) It closes on what is not quite an end — that not everything ties up feels very on brand for the series, and like life, which doesn’t run on schedule — and a sort of beginning. (I would just point out that R.E.M.’s “Strange Currencies,” or as I have called it, “Love Theme From ‘The Bear,’” playing very quietly in a scene behind Richie and highly evolved Chef Jessica [Sarah Ramos] may be a gentle nod to their unseen future.)

It can be corny, it can be obvious. It indulges in gestures as grand and unlikely as creating snow for a guest, and as small as a sandwich being cut to make it a little more friendly, a little more fancy. Both are moving.

Good restaurants serve a reliable version of familiar food, food anyone can like. Great ones do something peculiar that won’t be to everyone’s taste, won’t even make sense, but might inspire love. So it is with television shows.