When the world is topsy-turvy, the theatergoing public seeks explanations. Arthur Miller provides something better: moral intelligence. He doesn’t tell his audience what to think but challenges them to think harder.
There’s clearly a hunger right now for Miller’s work. His plays are back in high demand in Los Angeles, New York and London.
A new revival of “Death of a Salesman,” starring Nathan Lane and Laurie Metcalf, is in previews on Broadway. And a less starry production of Miller’s masterpiece opened last weekend at Pasadena’s A Noise Within.
“All My Sons,” Miller’s breakthrough play about capitalism’s warped ethics in the guise of a domestic drama, just finished a successful run at Antaeus Theatre Company in Glendale. And National Theatre Live will screen the recent London production, starring Bryan Cranston and Marianne Jean-Baptiste, in April and May courtesy of Boston Court Pasadena and L.A. Theatre Works. (Late last year, I caught a screening at the Wallis of another London revival, the 2019 production starring Bill Pullman and Sally Field.)
Dana Dewes and Scott G. Jackson in “The Price” at Pacific Resident Theatre in Venice.
(Ian Cardamone)
“A View From the Bridge,” a play whose revenge plot hinges on a tip to immigration authorities, could hardly be more timely. The same could just as unnervingly be said about “The Crucible,” Miller’s parable about the McCarthy witch hunts. The play, always front of mind when power is being abused, has given rise to a modern feminist riposte, Kimberly Belflower’s thrilling “John Proctor Is the Villain,” which is coming to the Mark Taper Forum next year.
Not to be missed right now is a small, exquisitely acted production of “The Price” at Pacific Resident Theatre. Miller’s 1968 play, written during the agonizing days of the Vietnam War, concerns the disposition of the remains of a once-illustrious estate. As two estranged brothers working with an 89-year-old appraiser try to put a price on the antiques and personal effects their father — a casualty of the Great Depression — left behind, the family history they both tried to bury explodes.
Miller’s plays compel theatergoers to connect the dots not only between the past and the present but also between the political and the personal. His dramas set domestic conflicts against the backdrop of societal systems that insidiously warp the playing field for their characters.
Miller is often contrasted with Tennessee Williams. And while it’s true that Miller is more of a social realist and Williams is more of a dramatic poet, Miller’s carefully carpentered plays are emotionally supple and Williams’ lyrical dramas are acutely mindful of the power dynamics of our collective life.
The realism of “The Price” is as heavy as the old wooden furniture that the Franz brothers, Victor (Scott G. Jackson) and Walter (Jason Huber), are trying to profitably offload.
(Ian Cardamone)
Director Elia Kazan was drawn to both playwrights because he understood that they were as interested in the stories of individual Americans as they were in the larger tale of America itself. Kazan found in both writers more than enough poetry and grit to satisfy the new breed of realistic actor he was showcasing on stage and screen.
“Death of a Salesman” and “The Price” are vastly different plays. The former, which Miller once considered calling “The Inside of His Head,” is fluidly constructed, playing fast and loose with time as it tracks the disintegrating mental life of down-and-out salesman Willy Loman. “The Price,” by contrast, is set inside what looks at first glance to be a crowded antique shop but turns out to be the apartment once inhabited by the Franz family after the market crash changed everything.
The realism of “The Price” is as heavy as the old wooden furniture (stacked and sorted on Rich Rose’s eye-catching set) that the Franz brothers, Victor (Scott G. Jackson) and Walter (Jason Huber), are trying to profitably offload on a shrewd antique dealer named Gregory Solomon (Richard Fancy). “Salesman” is more limber in its dramaturgy, shifting locations and blurring chronologies. But it too depends on the ability of actors to embody the biographical weight of its finely detailed characters.
Arthur Miller’s 1968 play “The Price,” written during the Vietnam War, concerns the disposition of the remains of a once-illustrious estate.
(Ian Cardamone)
“The Price,” directed by Elina de Santos, thrives in the intimacy of Pacific Resident Theatre’s main stage. There’s not a moment in the play that isn’t deeply inhabited by a cast that understands the value of listening.
The drama builds toward a confrontation between Victor, a cop who dropped out of college to support his dad, and Walter, a wealthy doctor who made no such sacrifices and resents the guilt that he’s spent a lifetime trying to elude. Miller gives both characters some claim on the truth, making the twisting argument that breaks out between the brothers enthralling to follow.
But just as insightfully handled are the complicated emotional dynamics between Victor and his wife, Esther (Dana Dewes), who is frustrated by her husband’s resignation and blunted ambition but loyal to him and prepared to fight for his due. As for Solomon, the scene-stealing appraiser who dispenses old world wisdom while toting up an estimate for the furniture haul in between bites of a hard-boiled egg, is deliciously brought to life by Fancy, who has starred in both “All My Sons” and “Death of a Salesman” at PRT and enlivens this production with his veteran experience.
I saw “The Price” on Sunday after having been dismally disappointed at the Saturday night opening of “Death of a Salesman” at A Noise Within. That production, directed by Julia Rodriguez-Elliott, seems completely deracinated on a set by Frederica Nascimento that registers no Brooklyn ZIP Code or locatable address anywhere.
Deborah Strang, Ian Littleworth, David Nevell and Geoff Elliott in “Death of a Salesman” at A Noise Within.
(Craig Schwartz)
But the bigger problem is that the performances are ungrounded. Geoff Elliott, who shares the title of producing artistic director at A Noise Within with wife Rodriguez-Elliott, doesn’t so much play Willy Loman as try on various accents, none of them remotely convincing to this native Brooklynite. Are the Lomans meant to be Irish immigrants or is that a Boston dialect that is being affected when the cartoonish New Yorkese takes a breather?
The house needn’t be fleshed out to be made to seem real, but since it plays such an important role in the play, its presence onstage ought to at least be palpable to the characters. At one point near the play’s tragic climax, Willy is feverishly planting seeds in the backyard, but Elliott gives no credibility to any of his character’s actions. Willy might as well be delivering newspapers or mopping the kitchen floor, so disconnected are his gestures.
It’s true he’s not in his right mind, but it’s just another instance of the casual disregard of the character’s moment-to-moment reality. Willy’s world never comes into being onstage, and the rest of the cast seems to wander in the limbo that’s left behind.
“Death of a Salesman” is more limber in its dramaturgy, shifting locations and blurring chronologies.
(Craig Schwartz)
As Linda Loman, Deborah Strang, normally so reliable, tries to follow the lead of husband Willy, but that turns out to be a dead end. Ian Littleworth’s Happy, the dissolute son always looking for an easy way out, seems unsettled not only in his bearings but in his command of the script.
David Kepner’s Biff, the prodigal son who rediscovers the reasons he ran off in the first place, delivers the most centered performance. It’s at least possible to believe what his character is supposed to be feeling, but the placelessness of the production doesn’t give him enough to dig into. The emotional combustion of his climactic scenes with Willy fail to reach cathartic levels.
Still, I found myself listening attentively to the warning Miller was issuing about buying into the salesman ethos. Willy’s belief that good connections matter more than skill and that blarney and bluff can substitute for hard work explains a good deal about our current national disorder.
David Kepner, who delivers the most centered performance, and Ian Littleworth in “Death of a Salesman.”
(Craig Schwartz)
But Miller’s dramatic vision requires actors to relive the experiences of their characters, the way they do in De Santos’ production. “The Price” might not be an indisputable masterpiece like “Death of a Salesman,” but its solid construction reveals tremendous complexity when the human story is scrupulously observed and the societal forces shaping our lives are suddenly thrust into view.
Northern Ireland manager Michael O’Neill praised the “character” of his side in Tuesday’s 1-1 draw in Wales.
Both Wales and Northern Ireland lost their respective World Cup play-offs to set up the friendly that nobody wanted.
Jamie Donley scored a deserved opener but Wales hit back less than 60 seconds after the restart as Sorba Thomas tucked home.
Eoin Toal and Callum Marshall had chances to snatch victory, but it was the response to the equaliser which impressed O’Neill as his young side bounced back from the World Cup defeat by Italy with a solid performance in Cardiff.
“The team has good resilience because at the end of the day, as much as we sat deep and it was difficult for us to get out in the last 20 minutes, we still had an opportunity to win the game,” O’Neill, who also hit back at concerns over a conflict of interest with his dual role with Blackburn Rovers.
“To come away, with the age profile of the team and where the team is at this minute at time, and not be beaten here was a real positive.”
O’Neill added it was “a good night’s work for us” as he “asked a huge amount” of young players in a second half that was littered with substitutions, but Northern Ireland deserved their draw in Cardiff.
He handed a debut to 19-year-old defender Tom Atcheson, who plays under him at Blackburn Rovers, but Liverpool’s Kieran Morrison did not make his senior bow as O’Neill made eight substitutions.
“He’s a very young player. I think he’s shown up well in the camp all week,” O’Neill said on Atcheson.
“We would have liked to have got Kieran Morrison on the pitch as well at some point, but you wouldn’t have been able to do it without having to take a sub that you put on, off again, without asking someone to play in a position which was totally alien to them.
“Given the number of substitutions we made, we’re pleased with the response we got from the players.”
Actor James Tolkan, known for his role as the Hill Valley High principal in “Back to the Future” and the no-nonsense commanding officer in “Top Gun” has died. He was 94.
Tolkan died Thursday in Lake Placid, N.Y., where he lived, his booking agent, John Alcantar, told the Associated Press on Saturday.
In “Back to the Future,” Tolkan portrayed Vice Principal Gerald Strickland, who surveyed the school’s halls with a whistle around his neck and a tardy slip burning a hole in his pocket.
“You got a real attitude problem, McFly,” Tolkan’s character snaps at Michael J. Fox’s character, Marty McFly, in the cult classic 1985 film. “You’re a slacker. You remind me of your father when he went here. He was a slacker, too.”
The line became one of Tolkan’s most famous, and mega-fans would flock to Comic-Cons around the country to ask the star to call them a slacker, requests he typically obliged.
The actor had a number of film and television gigs through the 1960s and ’70s, but he was doing David Mement’s Broadway play “Glengarry Glen Ross” when he got the offer to play Strickland in “Back to the Future.”
“I always said, ‘I’m never going to Hollywood until they send for me,’ ” he told T.C. Restani during a 2015 interview. “And I said, OK, this is my chance. And of course, nobody realized that it was going to be such an important picture. But it was. It was one of those marvelous events where all the planets were aligned and ‘Back to the Future’ became this shooting star of a movie.”
Tolkan was also well known for drilling Maverick and Goose with swift reprimands and tough love between puffs of his cigar as their commanding officer, Tom “Stinger” Jardian, in the 1986 blockbuster “Top Gun.”
“That was very special, because when you make a movie you never know, but in ‘Top Gun,’ everybody felt like it was going to be a success,” Tolkan told Bob McCarthy during a 2016 Comic-Con interview. “ They just felt it, knew it right from the first day.”
Born June 20, 1931, in Calumet, Mich., Tolkan was the son of a cattle dealer — Ralph M. Tolkan. He moved around in his adolescence, spending time in Chicago and landing in Arizona after his parents’ divorce. It was there that his athletic skills got him noticed by the Eastern Arizona College football coach. Tolkan landed a scholarship to the college, but his academic career was short-lived, and he left to enlist in the U.S. Navy.
After a year of service during the Korean War, he was discharged due to a heart ailment, and with $75 to his name he set out for the Big Apple to try his hand at acting. In New York, Tolkan studied under Stella Adler and Lee Strasberg at the famed Actors Studio and started landing stage roles before working his way to the big screen.
Although his experience in the military informed the types of roles Tolkan would play — Army office, Air Force commander, police lieutenant, attorney — his work as an actor was his passion. “If you choose to be an actor, you have to choose to be an actor, and you have to stick with it through thick and thin,” he told a FanX audience member during a 2023 panel at the Salt Lake City pop-culture convention. “When things get tough, you can’t think about doing something else. You’ve got to say to yourself, ‘I’m gonna do this.’ ”
Other notable acting projects of Tolkan’s include the 1973 film “Serpico,” starring Al Pacino; the 1981 movie “Prince of the City”; the role of Napolean in Woody Allen’s 1975 film, “Love and Death”; and the 1983 film “WarGames,” in which he acted alongside Matthew Broderick.
Tolkan is survived by his wife of 54 years, Parmelee Welles.
Riz Ahmed has created and stars in a marvelous new series, “Bait,” premiering Wednesday on Prime Video. There are no worms in it, though viral video plays a part, and fame — the pursuit of which is a subject — is a lure.
But what’s in a name? A comedy by any other name would be as funny — if it was funny, and this one very much is, in a way that’s crazy and serious and human, built around a character in crisis who refuses to believe his life is out of control and is so invested in putting up a front that he’s begun to believe his own lies. Almost. It’s a series in which hallucinations, dreams, magical realism and memories, which punctuate and interfere with the “normal” business of the story, all amount the same thing, and in which the style of the filming shifts with the action.
Ahmad plays Shah Latif, a British Pakistani actor, who, owing to the exertions of his faithful, often frustrated agent, Felicia (Weruche Opia), is improbably auditioning to be the next James Bond. But he repeatedly forgets his line when his scene partner, a girl with a gun, asks, “Tell me, when it’s just you all alone, how do you live with yourself? Do you even know who you are?” establishing a theme. (The line he can’t recall: “I don’t live with myself, I live with whoever you need me to be.” Spies and actors!)
Leaving the audition, he contrives to be photographed by one of the paparazzi lurking outside, sniffing for a Bond scoop; his picture is published, which creates a stir and some racist blowback, culminating in a package thrown through the front window of his parents’ home. (It is not a window that opens.) What’s inside the package I’ll leave for you to discover, but it will play a part through the rest of the show.
The recurring question of who will be the next James Bond generates a lot of pop cultural heat in our world; just type “next James Bond” into your search engine of choice. At one point, you may recall, Idris Elba was regularly bruited as a potential 007, which occasioned enough anti-Black reaction that he officially took himself out of the unofficial running. It may have been on Ahmed’s mind here — Shah claims high purpose for his Bondean aspirations, that he wants “to show them that this too is what British looks like.”
On the one hand, Shah has had enough of a career to have been made into a “limited edition collectible action figure,” starred in a well-regarded but underseen small film, played “the translator in ‘Homeland’ series seven” and earned a rising star award from some French festival; on the other, he is, professionally speaking, no Idris Elba — not a nobody, but not too many rungs above it. (He’s not Dev Patel, either, with whom he’s repeatedly confused.)
At the top of the second episode, Shah is seemingly being interviewed on a podcast, “Sir Chatwick Stewart, with me, Sir Patrick Stewart” — played by the man himself, whom we hear but never see — about his ambitions, though it’s soon clear that Stewart is a mental projection, an inner critic and inquisitor. He’ll stick around through the series, offering barbed commentary and something like support: “If I humiliate you, it’s to save you from the bigger humiliation of remaining as you are.”
As a protagonist continually getting in his own way, Shah is a classic sort of comic character. He creates opportunities only to squander them; finds himself voiceless after forcing himself onstage at a black-tie gala or in an underground club (he was once a politically provocative MC). After a newsworthy mishap, his agent advises him to lie low, which is impossible for him to do; there is no itch he won’t scratch, and no good advice he’ll actually follow. Apart from a rival actor (Himesh Patel) he’s a protagonist without antagonists, excepting himself. He’s insufficiently grateful to the people he owes, and insufficiently apologetic to those he’s wronged.
Shah’s self-involvement will be challenged by ex-girlfriend Yasmin (Ritu Arya), encountered first by accident, then sought out — a writer, she has published an op-ed headlined, “No, Shah Latif, We Don’t Need a Brown Bond” — in which she accuses him of “exchanging his political art for vanilla distraction.” His family, whom he neglects to visit for months, includes warm-hearted cousin Zulfi (Guz Khan), who has started a Muslim ride share company; a no-nonsense sister (Aasiya Shah) — the name of her character is rendered as “Q” on IMDb and elsewhere, but in the series itself she’s called Ainy — doting mother Tahira (Sheeba Chaddha); and his skeptical father, Parvez (Sajid Hasan), who has not been keeping his doctor appointments and asks Shah, “What do you even do? I watch TV all day — you’re never on it.”
Appropriate to a character who lives for being onscreen, “Bait” plays with the language of film — gritty procedural, a burst of Bollywood, romantic comedy — though not necessarily to the usual ends. Frame-filling titles identify the London neighborhoods where the action takes place — Wembley, Kentish Town, Brick Lane, Ladbroke Grove — as Paris, Moscow and Mexico City might appear in an international thriller. The series is at once satirical and celebratory; “Bait” feels abundant, both in its presentation of a culture, which has the ring of documentary truth, and as a beautifully realized work of art.
A deadly Coronation Street blaze will reportedly tear through Roy’s Rolls soon, causing the iconic set to burn down with the stunt apparently leaving a beloved character in danger
16:58, 19 Mar 2026Updated 16:58, 19 Mar 2026
A deadly Coronation Street blaze will reportedly tear through Roy’s Rolls soon(Image: ITV)
There could be a shocking blaze on Coronation Street very soon, with a famous part of the set thought to be destroyed.
Reports claim Roy’s Rolls, the iconic café owned by Roy Cropper, will be burned down in a cruel arson attack in upcoming scenes. Not only that but as the blaze spreads, it could leave poor Roy in serious danger.
It’s claimed Roy will be left fighting for his life in the incident. with the building said to be be burnt down. As the battle to save Roy commences, the legend will apparently be rushed to hospital.
But who would want to target Roy or his business, and will Roy be okay? According to sources, Roy will be seen trapped in the blaze in scenes that will air onscreen in April.
According to The Sun, it sparks questions about whether Roy was targeted and why the café was set alight. A source told the publication: “Roy’s Rolls is targeted by a mystery fires tarter who breaks in and douses the cafe with petrol whilst Roy sleeps upstairs in his flat.
“When residents spot smoke coming out of the windows, emergency services are called. As the fire rages and people realise Roy is trapped inside the race is on to get him out alive.
“Will Roy be rescued in time, and what about his precious collection of railway memorabilia and memories of Hayley? Is this the end of Roy’s Rolls as we know it, and who wanted to burn down the iconic cafe?”
The Mirror has reached out to an ITV spokesperson for comment. It comes ahead of a murder plot taking place in April that sees one of five villains killed off. Jodie Ramsey, Megan Walsh, Carl Webster, Theo Silverton and Maggie Driscoll are all at risk.
The death plot will then spark a whodunnit before fans find out who has killed them and why. Some fans already think they have worked out who the killer is and who the victim will be.
It’s left fans fearing a popular character is about to depart the show in the plot. They think Eva Price, who only came back to the show in October last year, could bow out in a killer twist.
With teacher Megan exposed for grooming young student Will for sex, Will’s stepmother Eva Price vowed she would pay for her crimes. Now, fans have wondered if Eva will kill Megan as she takes revenge, but would Eva really turn killer?
Emmerdale fans think they know what Joe Tate has in store for Lydia Dingle and Kim Tate after he appeared to target Lydia over news about Home Farm on the ITV soap
22:09, 18 Mar 2026Updated 22:10, 18 Mar 2026
Emmerdale fans think they know what Joe Tate has in store for Lydia Dingle and Kim Tate (Image: ITV)
After news about Kim Tate’s will on Emmerdale this week, fans think Joe Tate is plotting something sickening.
He’s seemingly targeting Kim’s friend Lydia Dingle, after he discovered she would get the Home Farm estate if Kim died. Since he found this out he’s been overly nice to Lydia, who saw right thought the “snake’s” behaviour.
But Wednesday’s episode saw him taking things further, as he was determined to make sure Home Farm was his should anything happen to Kim. Graham Foster had worked out his plan, with Joe deciding to open a bank account in Lydia’s name.
Fans immediately feared Joe was trying to set up Lydia in a shocking scheme. They believe Joe is planning on framing Lydia for fraud or money theft to tear apart her friendship with Kim, and have her removed from Kim’s will.
One fan said: “Ffs Joe’s targeting Lydia. Trying to get her written out of the will.” Another agreed: “Bet Joe is going to set Lydia up for stealing from Kim!” as another said: “Nasty Joe going to set Lydia up.”
A fourth fan said: “Something is definitely going to happen to Kim and Lydia is going to get framed for it, making room for Joe to prey and get the house in the will. But all of this could have been started with a single discussion but then she’d know they’re snooping into her private affairs.
“I hope whatever happens, they don’t mess with that friendship.” A further post read: “I think the plan is to make it seem like Lydia is stealing from Kim because Joe has opened an account in her name presumably so they’ll fall out and Kim will change the will.”
A final theory read: “Ohh, I was thinking he’d find a way to steal Lydia’s identity and get her inheritance. I’m sure Kim would see right through Lydia ‘stealing’ from her, especially so soon after the recent events.”
It comes amid some fans feared Kim might die in the plot. With Joe acting like Kim was going to die soon with his fury over Home Farm not being left to him, and the focus on Kim’s will, it left fans wondering if it was a hint.
Some fans thought it was a bit random to be focusing on what might happen if Kim died, and therefore it could be foreshadowing her being killed off very soon. But with it being almost 37 years since she debuted, are we about to lose Kim for good?
One fan said on social media: “I hope it’s not but this is starting to feel like the beginning of the end for the character of Kim with the will plot. She has become one of my favourites recently so I will be sad if it is.”
Another viewer said: “I can’t lie all this talk about Kim’s will and Joe’s desperation for Home Farm got me wondering the same. But would they really kill off the Kim Tate?” It comes as new spoilers teased the Tates and the Dingles would feature in much more drama with things escalating at the farm.
WASHINGTON — At a Senate hearing Wednesday to consider the confirmation of Sen. Markwayne Mullin (R-Okla.) as Homeland Security secretary, Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.) opened by asking whether “a man with anger issues” can set the right example for federal immigration agents.
Mullin, President Trump’s pick to replace Secretary Kristi Noem, faced tough questions before the Senate Homeland Security Committee about how he would carry out the administration’s mass deportation effort and how he would steer the agency in the wake of controversies that led to Noem’s firing earlier this month.
For his part, Mullin said he will work to ensure a secure homeland as well as to “bring peace of mind and confidence to the agency.”
“My goal in six months is that we’re not in the lead story every single day,” he said.
Throughout the hearing, Democrats made digs at Noem while examining Mullin’s character and ability to lead the nation’s largest law enforcement agency. Most Republicans painted Mullin as a good man and a hard worker while chastising Democrats for punishing federal workers with the continued Homeland Security funding shutdown.
The leadership shake-up comes amid intense scrutiny over increasingly violent immigration enforcement tactics since last year that intensified after the shooting deaths of two protesters in Minneapolis by immigration agents, which Noem — without evidence — called domestic terrorism.
She was fired days after testifying before congressional oversight committees, during which she faced criticism from Republicans and Democrats alike.
“It’s not the role of the secretary to be a cable news commentator in the wake of a crisis” said Sen. Gary Peters (D-Mich.). “This is a role where temperament matters, where judgment matters and where experience matters.
“We have seen under Secretary Noem’s leadership how shortcomings in these traits can compound the challenges that already come with leading a large and complex department, and now more than ever, we need a DHS secretary who is a steady hand, who will provide thoughtful leadership, follow the facts, tell the truth, and hold agency officials accountable when they need to be.”
Paul brought up incidents to illustrate why Mullin is not fit for the job, including a time in 2023 when he nearly got into a fight in a Senate hearing room and more recently when Mullin called Paul “a freaking snake.”
Paul also confronted Mullin for saying he “completely understood” why Paul was assaulted by a neighbor in 2017, which left him with six broken ribs and a damaged lung.
Mullin did not apologize for his remarks and instead accused Paul of smearing his character.
“I’ve worked with many people in this room,” Mullin told Paul. “It seems like you fight Republicans more than you work with us.”
But Mullin added that their personal differences wouldn’t keep him from doing his job — “it’s bigger than partisan bickering” — and asked Paul to let him earn his respect.
Paul appeared unmoved. Referencing the 2023 near fight with Sean O’Brien, the head of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters, Paul asked Mullin to “explain to the American public how a man who has no regrets about brawling in a Senate committee can set a proper example.”
Mullin was prepared for the moment: O’Brien was sitting behind him. The union president, he said, has become a close friend.
“Both of us agreed we could have done things different,” Mullin said.
The Bird Cage Theatre has stood inside Knott’s Berry Farm for 72 years — albeit not always soundly. Long framed by a tin roof and a tent, the theater had a reputation for discomfort, as it was a source of punishing heat and the occasional mouse sighting.
“It was hot, it stunk and it was dirty,” says Payden Adams, the park’s VP of entertainment.
Still, though it has long felt like an endangered species, the Bird Cage Theatre is one of Southern California’s most historic revival houses, a place for vaudeville-style, fourth-wall-breaking shows that deviate from the expected theme park fare. To quote the theater’s most recent production, its entertainment can be “flirtatious and a little bit saucy.”
Knott’s Berry Farm’s Bird Cage Theatre is modeled after a historic venue in Tombstone, Ariz.
(Kyusung Gong / For The Times)
Opened in 1954, the Bird Cage Theatre has specialized in vaudeville-style melodramas.
(Knott’s Berry Farm)
And now, against all odds, the Bird Cage is getting a second life. Knott’s Berry Farm recently completed a renovation designed to keep it thriving for another 72 years. Gone is the tarpaulin roof: The Bird Cage is now a fully enclosed, soundstage-like structure. And blessedly, it has modern air conditioning.
The theater reopened this past weekend with “The Great Bank Robbery,” a 30-minute-plus show in which audiences are encouraged to boo, hiss and swoon over the characters, a Bird Cage tradition since 1954. Characters are caricatures, be it a villain that feels plucked from a cartoon western, complete with a purring raccoon for a sidekick, to a greedy wannabe politician of a bank manager. Though set in Ghost Town with period garb, there are modern flourishes, such as tongue-in-cheek nods to the theme park’s attractions and a damsel in distress who ultimately proves to be anything but.
Though it once operated as a daily theater, the Bird Cage is today most active during holidays and seasonal events, such as the park’s annual Boysenberry Festival, which also began this weekend. Popular summer show “Miss Cameo Kate’s Western Burle-Q- Revue” is a 20-minute cabaret-style performance, complete with a torch song and a slightly risqué cancan finale.
When it’s running, the Bird Cage is a must-see attraction. Live theater in theme parks can feel like a moving target, as conventional wisdom often argues that today’s smartphone-addled guests are after thrills and more attention-grabbing, interactive experiences. But when it works, such as during the over-the-top silliness of “The Great Bank Robbery,” or at Universal Studios’ “Waterworld”-themed stunt show, it can offer guests some of the most memorable, personal moments at the parks.
The Bird Cage Theatre reopened this past weekend with the show “The Great Bank Robbery.”
(Kyusung Gong / For The Times)
“You’re not wrong, especially when it comes to attention spans. We experience that,” says Adams, who oversaw the theater’s restoration. “The way we’ve pivoted and navigated is just ensuring our shows are tight and clean. It might be a little over 30 minutes, but audiences are engaged. In melodramas, we ask the audience to participate, and we can train them how to participate beforehand. When you see characters, even when they’re heightened or over-the-top, people still connect with them.”
The Bird Cage Theatre first opened in the summer of 1954, its facade a near-replica of the original Bird Cage in Tombstone, Ariz. That the family-focused Knott’s would nod to the Arizona locale is an oddity in and of itself, as the actual theater had a bawdy reputation. Stories today speak of a place that initially opened with grand ambitions but eventually succumbed to gambling and prostitution.
At Knott’s, the theater was built around existing structures, although park founder Walter Knott, according to the book “Knott’s Preserved” by Chrstopher Merritt and J. Eric Lynxwiler, often talked about completing it as a full tribute to the Arizona space. That never really happened.
Knott’s re-created the original wallpaper of the Bird Cage Theatre for its remodeling.
(Kyusung Gong / For The Times)
And yet over the years the Bird Cage won over audiences thanks to programming from Vaudeville veterans. Early on, students from nearby colleges would appear at the space, including Steve Martin, whose signed photograph graces a celebrity wall in the Bird Cage’s introductory hall. Donna Mills and singer Rick Nelson have graced the Bird Cage’s horseshoe-shaped stage, as have Dean Jones and Skip Young.
It was, to say the least, a quirky place to perform. “Knott’s Preserved” tells of a show in which a mouse once sat at the base of the stage, and quotes Martin as reminiscing over performances affected by the weather. “When it rained, no one could hear each other because the rain was beating so hard on that tarp,” Martin said.
None of that should be a problem anymore, although returning guests will likely feel they’re in a familiar space. Though the Bird Cage has been outfitted with modern lighting capable of new theme park tricks and projections, the rig is hidden among curtains designed to re-create the look of the original tent. Lights, in bird cage enclosures, still hang above the audience seating area, which has room for about 250 guests.
The Bird Cage Theatre at Knott’s Berry Farm now has a properly enclosed roof and air conditioning.
(Kyusung Gong / For The Times)
And along the way a few discoveries were made. Adams says that when they began stripping away wooden walls added sometime in the 1970s, they found the Bird Cage’s original wallpaper, a scarlet-red strip that surrounds the space with flower-adorned bird cages. Not all of it could be salvaged, so Knott’s meticulously re-created the look. With the new-old wallpaper intact, Adams estimates that guests can count about 11,055 bird cages throughout the theater.
The original pieces will be preserved in the park and gifted to important Bird Cage players. Adams jokes, “If you have a mailing address for Mr. Steve Martin, I have a gift to send him.”
A FEMALE rapped has died aged 37 after suffering a heart attack as her devastated friends pay tribute.
Gianina Gheorghiu recently passed away with her close friends revealing she had been battling an alcohol problem.
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Romanian rapper Gianina Gheorghiu has died aged 37 after suffering a heart attackCredit: Jam PressShe went by the stage name Chica Con Canna and forged an impressive careerCredit: Jam Press
Going by the stage name Chica Con Canna, the rapper dominated the scene in her country, forging an impressive career.
The news left her friends and fans devastated after her death was announced on March 9.
The Romanian rapper was huge in her local scene, collaborating with stars such as Tony Batrânu, Vladone and Mike Diamondz.
Her close friend Dana Marijauna spoke of her death in a heartbreaking tribute to the musician.
Although there is no official confirmation on what caused the heart attack Dana believes she “did not win the fight against alcohol”.
The rapper stated: “With tears in my eyes, with a fantastic love for Chica, who did not win the fight against alcohol.
“A girl with great talent, the best female voice and interpretation in English in the world of Romanian rap, soulful, generous, strong character.
“In vain, alcohol did not take into account all its countless qualities.
“We love you even in a billion years.
“We were supposed to record new songs, but we will do it without physical presence.”
The star’s untimely death has left a void in the Romanian rap industry with a number of artists, including Dana, claiming they had future projects with her.
The rapper confirmed that the projects will go ahead in her memory.
The news has left her friends and fans devastatedCredit: Jam Press
AUSTIN, Texas — “The Sun Never Sets” is filmmaker Joe Swanberg’s 10th indie to premiere at SXSW but his first to play the event since 2017. The astonishing pace with which he made his early work — loose, idiosyncratic stories that were progenitors of the emergent style known as mumblecore — has slowed significantly, but also given way to a newfound maturity as both a person and an artist.
Introducing “The Sun Never Sets” at its world premiere on Friday night to a sold-out crowd at the Zach Theater, Swanberg called his latest “my favorite film I’ve ever made.” Shot on 35mm in Anchorage, the movie follows a 30-ish woman, Wendy (Dakota Fanning in a vibrant turn), torn between pursuing a fresh romance with a reckless old flame (Cory Michael Smith) or continuing on with the settled-in-his-ways divorced father of two (Jake Johnson) she’s been seeing for a few years.
Dakota Fanning in Joe Swanberg’s “The Sun Never Sets,” filmed in Alaska.
(SXSW)
“I guess this is what they tell you about getting older and doing this job longer,” said a thoughtful Swanberg in a video interview from his home in Chicago shortly before the South by Southwest festival. “You get better at it and you sort of mature and all of this.”
The film marks Swanberg’s fourth collaboration with Johnson, a partnership that goes back to 2013’s “Drinking Buddies.” (The actor partly financed the new project along with his brother.) Following completion of the third season of the Netflix anthology series “Easy” in 2019, for which he wrote and directed all the episodes, Swanberg was planning to take a break. A divorce and the pandemic caused that pause to grow even longer.
In the intervening years Swanberg produced a number of projects for other filmmakers, did some acting and opened a small video store in Chicago. Swanberg knew Anchorage-based producer Ashleigh Snead, who encouraged him to consider shooting something there. The scenic location would give Swanberg the opportunity to expand his visual style from his usual couches, bars and apartments of much of his work. (There still are a surprising number of scenes on couches and in bars.)
“Joe’s a real filmmaker,” says Johnson in a separate interview. “And I think sometimes he doesn’t get that credit because he can make movies with nothing. This is a real adult movie. This is a film about how complicated breakups are and how messy they get. And it’s in beautiful Alaska.”
Swanberg, center, on the set of “The Sun Never Sets.”
(SXSW)
Swanberg has now gone from someone making talky, provocative and at times controversial films about the lives of post-collegiate 20-somethings to exploring the nuances and specifics of being a 44-year-old divorced father of two still trying to figure out his place in the world. His original cohort of SXSW-affiliated filmmakers, many of whom also fell under the rubric of mumblecore — nobody much liked the name, but no one ever came up with anything better, so it stuck — included Greta Gerwig, Lena Dunham, Barry Jenkins, Ti West and others who have gone on to more conventional mainstream success.
But Swanberg doesn’t seem to feel left behind. Rather, he only sees doors opening.
“It’s gone so much better than I thought it was going to go for me,” he says. “I mean, when I was making these really tiny, sexually explicit 71-minute movies, I was like, I’m just grateful to be here. I can’t even believe these festivals are showing this work and it’s so cool that there’s a space for me in this ecosystem.
“And so to watch my friends go off to do these giant movies, to see Greta doing ‘Barbie’ and stuff like that, to me it just opens up the possibilities,” he adds. “Each time a friend of mine sets some new record or moves into some new space, I’m kind of like: Oh, that just opened up for all of us now.”
His earlier work often featured raw sex scenes, sometimes featuring Swanberg himself. From practically the start of his career, well predating the #MeToo-era reckoning that began in 2017, Swanberg weathered accusations that he was exploitative and manipulative of his female performers. His stepback from productivity coincided with a moment when his explorations of sexual power dynamics fell out of favor. It would be easy to interpret that Swanberg preemptively soft-canceled himself to avoid a broader scandal. He doesn’t see it that way.
“Certainly in Chicago, where I’ve spent the last five years, I’m not unwelcome places,” he says, drawing a distinction between himself and “people who lose jobs or are capital-C canceled. But also my work has always pushed those boundaries and always attracted some amount of positive and negative attention.”
Though “The Sun Never Sets” has numerous kissing scenes, it doesn’t go too much further than that.
“I won’t do it,” Johnson says of more graphic scenes. “When I worked with Joe early on, I was like, ‘I love you, man — I’m not doing this.’”
For her part, Fanning had no reservations about working with Swanberg. He offered both Fanning and Smith the opportunity to work with an intimacy coordinator, but neither felt it was necessary.
“There was no planet where you’d ever be asked to do anything you were uncomfortable with,” Fanning says. “If there was ever a moment like, ‘I don’t want to do that,’ he’d be like, ‘Oh, then let’s not.’ There was a day where there was a scene and it was pouring rain outside. And we both looked at each other and he was like, ‘We’re not going to do it. The scene’s cut.’ He’s just open. And I just trusted him implicitly.”
Jake Johnson and Dakota Fanning in the movie “The Sun Never Sets.”
(SXSW)
Swanberg has long worked in an unusual style in which the script is essentially a detailed outline and the actors work to come up with their own dialogue during rehearsals. For “The Sun Never Sets,” Swanberg and Johnson developed the longest, most complete outline Swanberg has ever used, including some dialogue exchanges. Then the actors were allowed to make it their own.
Fanning recalled an early Zoom call with Swanberg and Johnson on which they explained the process.
“It’s still made like a real film,” Fanning says. “And Jake and Joe promised it’s not like we’re just flying by the seat of our pants: ‘You will know what to say, I promise.’ And then friends that know me asked, ‘Are you so nervous?’ And I was, but for some reason, I don’t know why, I just knew that it was going to be fine. And that just proved to be true.”
Even though it takes places in Anchorage, Swanberg calls “The Sun Never Sets” “extremely personal.”
“I was definitely writing a movie about a divorced mid-40s guy dating a younger person,” he says. “The questions of marriage and having children were sort of an amalgam of two real relationships that I merged into one onscreen.” He describes the material as “questions that I had and have about what my own relationships are going to look like post-divorce.”
That comes through in Fanning’s rich, layered performance, which might rank among the best of her already lengthy career. Swanberg’s style draws both an ease and an intensity from Fanning, who captures a woman at a pivotal moment of figuring out what she wants amid the emotional whirlwind she is going through. (At the film’s premiere, Fanning said, “I’ve never put so much of myself into a role before.”)
“I think the goal of Joe’s films, and I think at least my goal with this film, is trying to make everything feel real,” she says. “Things are just a mess some of the time.”
Dakota Fanning and Cory Michael Smith in “The Sun Never Sets.”
(SXSW)
Swanberg himself appears in a small role as the new husband of the ex-wife of Johnson’s character. And the characters of the two kids in the movie are named after the director’s own children. With a newfound maturity and emotional depth, Swanberg is continuing to make movies that are part diary, part generational markers.
“It’d be really cool in my 40s to make movies about characters in their 40s,” he says, “and in my 50s, 60s and 70s. It’d be neat to be making sexually explicit movies about 70-year-olds in their dating lives and sex lives and stuff. It’s really exciting to have movies about characters at this phase of their life, whether they’re finally settling down in their 40s or whether they’re getting out of relationships and reexamining their life. It’s where my head is at.” .
“Beast Mode” started as a phrase people used to describe the running style of former NFL running back Marshawn Lynch.
“I think it was just my relentlessness and my no-back-down type of demeanor when it came to running the ball, like, ‘Boy, that boy a beast,’” Lynch said. “And it’s like, yeah, when I get the ball, that’s what type of mode I’m in — I’m in beast mode.”
Lynch played 12 seasons for the Buffalo Bills, Seattle Seahawks and Oakland Raiders, amassing 10,413 in 2,453 carries with 85 touchdowns. Somewhere along the way, he said, the phrase “Beast Mode” evolved into “this persona bigger than myself.”
“The way that I get approached by kids and fans, like the way that they approach me is almost as if I am like a character so to speak, and I don’t think that I was doing it justice because I’m like, ‘Well s—, I’m just only a man,” the Super Bowl XLVIII champion said.
“But I believe in their mind what they had made up as Beast Mode is this larger-than-life, kind of surreal individual.”
An early look at a page from the upcoming “Beast Mode 510” graphic novel, starring Marshawn Lynch as the title character. Text will be added closer to the Oct. 6 publishing date.
(Art by Denys Cowan / Courtesy of AWA)
Lynch is embracing that perception of himself … and Beast Mode is about to become a literal comic book hero.
On Friday, Arists Writers and Artisans announced the graphic novel “Beast Mode 510,” which is scheduled to be released Oct. 6. Written by NAACP Image Award-nominated author Sheldon Allen and illustrated by Eisner Hall of Fame artist Denys Cowan, the book was “inspired and guided by” Lynch and is a “deeply personal love letter” to his hometown Oakland, according to a news release from AWA.
“At its center is Beast Mode: the 510’s legendary fixer and freelance sleuth whose rough exterior hides a code of loyalty and willingness to deal with problems others won’t touch,” the release reads. “If you’ve got a problem the authorities won’t handle, Beast Mode will. No invoices. No contracts. Just results.”
AWA chief creative officer Axel Alonso said when he was approached by Lynch and his team about possibly working on a project together, the idea of turning Beast Mode into an almost superhuman crime fighter quickly came to mind.
“To use a football analogy, when Marshawn and his people came to me and said, ‘Can you do anything with this, Beast Mode?’ it was like they gave me the ball on the one-yard line and I had to just walk it in — and Pete Carroll wasn’t the coach, so I could just go right in,” Alonso said, referring to an infamous play at the end of Seattle’s loss to New England in Super Bowl XLIX.
“It was as easy as that. I was like, come on, ‘Beast Mode’? So automatically I talked with Marshawn and said, ‘What’s important to you?’”
Lynch’s input has been key every step of the way, Alonso said, with the five-time Pro Bowl selection getting final say on every aspect. Lynch said he appreciates having his voice heard and being able to put his stamp on the project.
“From the start, we just sat down and had a conversation about where it was that we wanted to go, what is the kind of feel, the look that we want, the kind of tone that we want to tell the story,” Lynch said.
Seahawks running back Marshawn Lynch #24 of the Seattle Seahawks runs for a 67-yard touchdown against the New Orleans Saints during an NFC wild-card playoff game Jan. 8, 2011, at Qwest Field.
(Jonathan Ferrey / Getty Images)
An early look at pages from the upcoming “Beast Mode 510” graphic novel starring Super Bowl champion Marshawn Lynch as an underground crime fighter.
(Art by Denys Cowan / Courtesy of AWA)
“I can’t draw or nothing like that, but any type of update or anything Axel will get over to me and, you know what I mean, yea or nay. And then when it comes to like how certain characters would look, certain names, individuals — I would say I’m involved, but I’m not stepping on their toes.”
For Lynch, one of the top priorities was to bring attention to all the unique aspects of his beloved city.
“We kinda have Oakland being a character of its own,” he said. “The personality of what Oakland stands for is something that I would really like to highlight ‘cause I feel that my city gets overlooked. And then the amount of individuals that we have coming out of area, it’s also an opportunity to show a nod to a lot of the Bay Area cultures and icons that we have.”
Even though the book is fiction, Lynch insisted on authenticity in the depictions of the city and the people who live there, including the way they look, act and speak.
“I think the biggest thing will probably be just the way that I speak in general,” Lynch said. “Mother— from where I’m from, we talk with a certain type of a tone, a type of swag.”
An early look at a page from the upcoming “Beast Mode 510” graphic novel. Marshawn Lynch says his character was inspired by the larger-than-life persona fans sometimes associate with him.
(Art by Denys Cowan / Courtesy of AWA.)
And, judging from Lynch’s signature way of talking, a lot of profanity.
None of Lynch’s ideas has been toned down.
“This is an R-rated book,” Alonso said.
“I want this s— to be turned up to the max,” Lynch added, “so if a mother— do pick this up to read, it’s gonna be like, ‘Oh, this some real s—.’ As well as entertaining, as well as insightful and impactful.”
Lynch is used to keeping people entertained, including as the co-host of the “Get Got Pod” with former Seahawks teammate Mike Robinson and as an actor with numerous roles in TV and film (including a breakout performancein 2023’s “Bottoms”).
He said he’s proud of how the project is turning out.
“When you see work and be like, ‘Damn that s— was nice’ and you start thinking about the thought process and how they got to those points, how they got to those things that drew you in, those things that give you that warm feeling,” Lynch said, “I’m feeling like I’m living that as this s— is going.
“Which is crazy as f— because I played in Super Bowls, I walked the red carpet of f—in’ premieres, and this one feels like, out of a lot of s—, this one is capturing that feeling for me. I’m a [Black man] — you know we don’t feel too much. But when we do, we be like, ‘Oh yeah, you know this s— is special.’”
By Mark Oppenheimer G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 480 pages, $35
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One of the biggest takeaways from the biography “Judy Blume: A Life” may not be in the story itself but in its author. Because of her frank talk about puberty and sexual awakenings, Blume’s work is usually associated with young female readers. Her biographer, Mark Oppenheimer, is a middle-aged father of five.
He says he received minimal pushback on the idea that a man should be allowed to write Blume’s definitive life story. If the whole point of her books is that there should be no shame in body awareness, what service does it do to say only a woman has the authority to write her story? Plus, although her books aren’t selling as well as they used to — who’s are? — Oppenheimer’s biography points out that there are still plenty of parents who will throw a copy of her seminal “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.” at their kids rather than have the menstruation talk or risk any misinformation that may be online.
“No good writer should be ghettoized,” Oppenheimer says during a recent Zoom call with The Times. “If you’re a good writer, you shouldn’t be marketed just to girls or just to boys or just to white people or just to straight people. Good art should be for everyone.”
It is intrinsic and impossible not to parlay Blume’s stories of sibling rivalries, first loves, friends and frenemies, and (most famously) puberty with what was going on in your life when you read them. Books like “Deenie” and “Superfudge” and “Margaret” are also remarkably malleable enough so that, even if a kid picks them up decades after their release or cannot relate with a parallel experience, they can become placeholders and explainers for what must be going on in the minds of their classmates. Last year, TV creator Mara Brock Akil adapted “Forever,” Blume’s 1975 story of the kind of mutually shared devotion that feels like it will last eternally, into a miniseries set in 2018 Los Angeles.
“I think for many of us, Judy’s books are our first crush or our first love and they do hold a special place that no book we read in our world-weary, cynical 40s can hold,” says Oppenheimer.
Some of this can be attributed to time and brain space. Oppenheimer discovered Blume’s work when he was a child. He’s now a parent, with a career and all the other time-sucks that come with adulthood.
“The books I read as a child imprinted on me in a way that books today don’t,” he says. “I probably remember more plot points of the first Judy Blume books that I read than I do of any book I’ve read in the past five years.”
But what of Blume herself? Can America’s mom also be a three-dimensional person who makes her own mistakes? Discovering her four adult novels — especially “Wifey,” a book about a gilded-caged suburban housewife that even Oppenheimer describes as “a very salacious, one might say, smutty, adult novel” that even some of Blume’s collaborators wanted her to publish under a pseudonym — or watching documentaries about her like 2023’s “Judy Blume Forever,” in which she is seen joking about masturbation with employees at her Key West, Fla., bookstore, can seem as evasive and dangerous as reading your mom’s diary.
Author Mark Oppenheimer
(Lu Arie)
There have been other books about Blume and her work, most notably Rachelle Bergstein’s 2024 deep-dive “The Genius of Judy: How Judy Blume Rewrote Childhood for All of Us.” But Oppenheimer’s biography is a more straightforward tracing of Blume’s life and career. He starts with her childhood when she was encouraged to read Philip Roth at home and went to sleepovers at friends’ houses that were more about body awakenings. He discusses her stifling first marriage, which gave her the last name she carries with her to this day and her two children but is also where she hung her college diploma and another award over her washing machine as reminders of her intellect. There’s talk of her second marriage, which Blume has always been reluctant to discuss, as well as the two abortions that resulted from it. And there are details on her life with her third husband, the polymath George Cooper.
Oppenheimer relied on past news stories about Blume, as well as a collection of her work and professional correspondences that are archived at Yale’s Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library and, probably most informatively, his own interviews with Blume and her friends and family. (Although Blume did agree to speak with Oppenheimer for his book, she declined our request to interview her for this story about that book).
“I think that the difficult subjects are sometimes the ones that make her more relatable,” Oppenheimer says of his subject. “I think most of her fans will find it interesting and admirable that she speaks so candidly about her abortions, about especially her divorce from her first husband, which came as she was getting involved in the [second-wave] women’s movement, about her early same-sex experiences, about masturbation as a girl; these are things we would expect Judy Blume to be candid about.”
Oppenheimer matches how these life events correspond with the ones of Blume’s characters because, for better or for worse, she almost always was an author who wrote what she knew even if her fandom transcended it. What her books lack in character diversity, they make up for in specificity. And that, in turn, also makes them relatable.
“Judy found incredibly compelling human drama in books about the New Jersey suburbs, and that’s a testament to her strength as an artist,” Oppenheimer says.
Writer Judy Blume at her nonprofit bookstore Books and Books on March 26, 2023, in Key West, Fla.
(Mary Martin / Associated Press)
Examining and reexamining Blume’s work as an adult also gave Oppenheimer a better perspective of her writing style. Blume didn’t begin to try to write professionally until she was a married mother of two and some have criticized her work for not being as flowery and polished as others’.
“All of her books tend to take a fairly tight focus on the characters,” Oppenheimer says. “They don’t tend to pull back and look at large societal forces or changes going on in the country or the world. And that’s fine. You know, the same could be said of Jane Austen.”
Perhaps the best example of this is Blume’s own religious foundation. Her most autobiographical novel, “Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself,” has a protagonist who is paranoid that she sees Adolf Hitler on park benches and whose life is imprinted with stories of a relative who followed her mother into the concentration camps and the neighbors sitting shiva (a time of mourning) for their daughter who got pregnant with her non-Jewish boyfriend. And yet, Oppenheimer notes, Blume is not always immediately thought of as a Jewish writer. Nor have most of her readers been Jewish.
“I think that her Judaism is there, if you know where to look,” says Oppenheimer, who spends the early part of his biography looking at how the synagogue and religious community were a normal part of a young Blume’s life. He adds that “she is somebody who speaks really, really well across religious, cultural and racial differences, and that’s partly why she has sold tens of millions of books.”
Oppenheimer acknowledges that Blume’s characters may not be diverse enough by today’s standards; that they don’t usually discuss “gender identities or sexualities; children of multiracial backgrounds; children who have disabilities.” They can also feel like time capsules to other dimensions; his 12-year-old daughter was scandalized by how normative bullying was after she read “Blubber,” Blume’s 1974 novel about tween mean girls and body shaming.
He adds that some of today’s bestselling young adult novels, like Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series about a teen demigod or Suzanne Collins’ dystopia-set “Hunger Games” books, are “contemporary realism [that] focus on extraordinary or unusual circumstances.” And while he’s happy for these books’ popularities, he says that some subjects may be better told by kids who also aren’t tasked with saving the world. (I am pretty sure I learned more about male puberty from Blume’s 1971 story “Then Again, Maybe I Won’t,” which is as much about wealth divides and questionable friend choices as it is about a 13-year-old boy’s inner monologues about her awkward adolescence).
“If what you’re looking for is realism that isn’t focused on obvious external differences, but rather on interiority,” Oppenheimer says, “then Judy Blume still remains one of the premier novelists that you would want to read.”
Friedlander is a pop culture and entertainment journalist based in Los Angeles who hates coffee but loves Coke Zero.
In “Rooster,” a genial comedy premiering Sunday on HBO, Steve Carell, comfortable as an uncomfortable person, plays Greg Russo, the author of a best-selling series of books whose hero is named Rooster. He has come to leafy, fictional Ludlow College to give a reading, but also because it’s where his daughter, Katie (Charly Clive) teaches art history, and because it’s all over school that her husband, Archie (Phil Dunster), a history professor, has left her for Sunny (Lauren Tsai), a graduate student in neuroscience. He’s a concerned father.
“They are light; they are fun. The characters that you like have sex, the ones you don’t get shot in the face,” Greg tells poetry professor Dylan (Danielle Deadwyler) of the “beach read” books he writes, as she ushers him to an auditorium. Unlike his fictional alter ego, Greg is by his own account a self-conscious introvert, heightened by the fact that his ex-wife, Elizabeth (Connie Britton) — “a philanthropist, a pioneer in corporate gender equality and an accomplished CEO” whose name adorns the school’s new student center — left him five years earlier and he never moved on. Additionally, Greg likes nuts and cocoa, can toss a penny into a jar from across a room, and played minor league hockey, which will put him back on skates here.
College president Walter Mann (John C. McGinley) decides it would be “a feather in his cap” to hire a reluctant Greg, “a best-selling author that the parents have actually heard of,” as an artist-in-residence — a deal he makes impossible to refuse by agreeing to keep Katie on staff after she accidentally burns down Archie’s house. (She was only trying to burn his first edition of “War & Peace.”) It’s a role quite like the one McGinley played/plays on “Scrubs,” but more politic and better dressed, when dressed — he takes meetings in his backyard sauna.
And they’re off.
Poetry professor Dylan (Danielle Deadwyler) and author Greg (Steve Carell) become colleagues when Greg is named artist-in-residence.
(Katrina Marcinowski / HBO)
The series was created by Bill Lawrence (“Ted Lasso,”“Shrinking,”“Scrubs,”“Bad Monkey”) and frequent collaborator Matt Tarses, and as men of at least a certain age, the view is slanted from experience back toward innocence; students play a secondary, though not insignificant role in the story. There are some pro forma jokes about the sensitivities of the young, with Greg getting into not-very-hot water over misunderstood references to “white whale” and the Bangles’ “Walk Like an Egyptian.” (“Liberal arts college used to be havens for free thought, Greg,” says Walt. “When did you and I become the bad guys?”) Not that the olds are reliably smart about life — the ways in which they’re not power the series — but they have a better notion of where they’re stupid.
“No one must be humiliated,” Greg says to Archie, quoting Chekhov, as Archie goes off to talk to Katie. (The quote is in the animated opening titles as well, so you can take it as important.) But no one here is out to humiliate anyone, which is nasty and unkind and not at all the sort of humor Lawrence trades in. Of course, characters will be put into embarrassing positions, or embarrass themselves, embarrassment being the root of all comedy, or near enough. (There’s a good bit of slapstick knitted in.) And though we’re told that “there are real villains lurking around this place,” niceness reigns — at least through the six episodes, of 10, available to review — with the possible exception of Alan Ruck as the dean of English. (“There’s no way she wrote all these poems,” he says of Emily Dickinson.)
Though there are couples, and ex-couples and new couples, one doesn’t necessarily feel invested in their getting together, or staying together, or getting back together. Indeed, as in other Lawrence projects — which typically feature divorced or separated characters — romance is a sort of side dish, less the issue than whether people are managing to treat one another well. We knew Ted Lasso wasn’t going to get his wife back, but it wasn’t the point (nor was winning games, really); kindness was what mattered. Greg’s possibly pre-romantic friendship with Dylan is no more significant than his cross-generational friendship with a group of goofball students (led by Maximo Solas as Tommy); they treat each other as peers, while knowing they aren’t. He teaches them that peanut butter can make celery better, and they teach him that he’s cooler than he thinks.
Katie, who says she still loves Archie — who says he still loves her — will also call him “a run-of-the-mill narcissistic a— who sometimes smells like wildflowers.” (As for Sunny, practical and deadpan — that no one gets her jokes is a running joke — not even Archie can see what she sees in him, a problem you might have as well, but, as is true of most everyone here, we’re not meant to merely write him off. Funny secondary characters, who get some of the best business, notably include Rory Scovel as a cop who can’t keep track of his gun, Robby Hoffman as Sunny’s intense, anti-Archie roommate and Annie Mumolo (co-writer of “Bridesmaids”) as Walt’s arch assistant.
Old-but-not-that-old-fashioned, “Rooster” has a tinge of Gen X nostalgia, underscored by the ’80s college radio classics that line the soundtrack. (R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe co-wrote and sings the series’ theme, and Greg, drunk and in a mood, will kill a party getting the DJ to play “Everybody Hurts.” Directed by Jonathan Krisel (“Portlandia,” “Baskets”), it’s low stakes, soft-edged, humane, basically gentle, a little fantastic, a little farcical, well cast and well played in every instance — qualities I happen to like, and maybe you do, too.
They knew he was going to break. And they leaned into it.
That’s the only explanation for this week’s Ryan Gosling-hosted episode of “Saturday Night Live,” which at times felt more like an inside cast joke than a typical “SNL” episode. But maybe it’s the “Project Hail Mary” actor’s innate charm or that there were genuine laughs to be mined from Gosling breaking character again and again throughout the show (as he did just two years ago) that made it somehow work.
Gosling kept his cool for the most part in a well-executed monologue that focused on next week’s host and musical guest Harry Styles, who was sitting in the front row and inadvertently driving Gosling to distraction with his coolness. But after that, it was a short trip to Giggle Town as Gosling tried valiantly to play a flamboyantly dressed disruptor at a wedding who keeps tapping his glasses so the bride and groom (and others) will kiss.
In a fantasy sketch, he played one of three very dumb cyclops who can’t solve easy riddles, much to the dismay of two maidens — one of them, the usually unflappable Ashley Padilla, caught the giggles from Gosling and couldn’t stop laughing. Padilla and Gosling were a teacher and principal in another sketch reading passed notes out loud that, according to text on screen, were swapped out since rehearsal, causing both to crack up uncontrollably. It was the first “SNL” sketch in a long time, not counting “Weekend Update,” that felt like a prank on the performers.
Gosling stayed in character for the most part as an annoyed hotel patron who’s been overcharged for visits from the “Goo Goo Man.” And he had less opportunity to lose his cool in some pre-taped sketches, one a violent and sad Willy Wonka parody, the other about a sentient and weird treatment for psoriasis, “Otezla.”
Whether you enjoyed the episode would depend a lot on your tolerance for “SNL” performers breaking character and causing cast members to do the same. Gosling may be one of the few hosts who can get away with it since by this point, it’s his fourth time hosting and it’s completely expected.
The show concluded with “Lies,” a video sketch from Please Don’t Destroy’s Martin Herlihy in which, among other things, Herlihy stole Colin Jost’s identity by wearing a giant head modeled after the “Weekend Update” host.
Musical guests Gorillaz performed their 25-year-old hit “Clint Eastwood” with Del the Funky Homosapien and new song “The Moon Cave” with Asha Puthli, Anoushka Shankar and Black Thought. A memorial card before the goodbyes honored Sandy Wernick, Adam Sandler’s longtime manager, who died this week.
Jost returned as Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, who was introduced doing a keg stand (but full of Sprite, he claimed), before launching into an explainer about the conflict in Iran. “We’re treating Iran like the breathalizer in my car and blowing it the hell up!” he said. He paraphrased Papa Roach’s “Last Resort” (“Cut Iran into pieces!”) and described the U.S. in Iran as not a war but a “situationship” where if the United States gets bored, it will go hook up with Cuba next. After shouting out “Grand Theft Auto,” Megan Fox’s return to Instagram and Quagmire from “Family Guy,” Hegseth introduced former Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem, whom he said was “reassigned under the bus.” Noem (Padilla) said she wasn’t fired, she self-deported and will soon be working out of a WeWork outside of Denver. “As I told my plastic surgeon, the work is never done,” she said, “you miss 100% of the dogs you don’t shoot.” It must be said: it was a relief to have a cold open that didn’t feature a rambling President Trump.
In his monologue, Gosling began going through the motions of singing a song about Earth (with a planetary model hanging down as a visual) before getting distracted by pop star Harry Styles in the front row. Styles, next week’s “SNL” host, said he just wanted to get a feel for it. Before long, smitten cast members, including Sarah Sherman and a cameraman wearing an I (Heart) Harry shirt who kept focusing on Styles, proved too much for Gosling, who called off a big song and dance number featuring most of the cast in silver space attire. Gosling started to sing “Sign of the Times” which is featured in his film “Project Hail Mary” before realizing it’s a Harry Styles song. “I’m just Ken!” Gosling flailed. Cast members consoled him, including a kiss on the cheek from Mikey Day that sent Gosling into a spontaneous giggle attack. Gosling thanked Kenan Thompson for coming out to support him. “We just came to get a better look at Harry,” Thompson replied.
Best sketch of the night: Riddle me this, why are these cyclops so dumb?
In a sketch based on a fictional book, “The Treasure of Darlor,” three cyclops led by Gosling must get past two maidens (Padilla and Veronika Slowikowska) in order to get the key to a cave that will grant them, presumably, the treasure of the book’s title. But the cyclops can’t solve the simplest of riddles and the increasingly exasperated maidens, who’ll be free once a riddle is solved, can’t get them to stop approaching the cave or from making terrible guesses. It’s hard to tell how far off script the sketch went once Gosling and Padilla began breaking character, but the characters are so silly and dumb that precision actually doesn’t matter too much and the result is a ramshackle hilarity as they keep going in semantic circles.
Also good: No notes. Seriously, no more notes, please
Maybe this was funnier for those on stage than for those watching at home, but the audacity of a sketch in which material is swapped out before air time (as we’re told in an on-screen warning) to unaware cast members and the host, breathed life into what would have otherwise been a pretty routine sketch about a teacher (Padilla) and a principal (Gosling) trying to discipline unruly students. Padilla almost never breaks in sketches; she’s a rock-solid performer, but without any advance knowledge of the jokes in notes she had to read out loud, she simply crumbled. Gosling never had a chance. The jokes in the notes are not all great, but they’re enough to have their intended effect on the two performers. The laughing becomes infectious.
‘Weekend Update’ winner: Pastor Update was really itemizing those backstage snacks
The next best thing we might get to a new “What Up With That?” sketch might be Thompson as Pastor Update, the official pastor to “Weekend Update” who was joined by his bandleader Teddy (James Austin Johnson). The two brought some soulful rumination on catered snacks and beautiful women with big foreheads. When Michael Che asked for something a little more uplifting, Pastor Update instead went after Che’s online habits, praying he “gets off his laptop looking at them nasty pictures on the computer.” The laptop, he sang, has been infected with so many nasty viruses it sounds like a lawnmower starting up.
“Pond rules” dictate that if an animal is hungry, the creature that’s about to become a meal should accept its fate. That’s the first lesson that Mabel (voiced by Piper Curda), an idealistic university student whose mind is transferred into the body of a robotic beaver, learns while interacting with wildlife as one of their own in Pixar’s inventive “Hoppers.” In typical human fashion (we love to meddle with nature), Mabel ends up breaking that directive by saving a “fellow” beaver, the slumberous Loaf (Eduardo Franco), attracting unwanted attention that leads her to a wacky group of characters who will transform her rigid young worldview.
For his second feature, Daniel Chong, best known for creating the popular “We Bare Bears” series for Cartoon Network, has unleashed a hilariously unexpected and outrageous crowd-pleaser with “Hoppers.” Recently, I bemoaned that a movie like Sony’s “Goat” stood as further proof that talking-animal animated films had mostly run their course. Chong and screenwriter Jesse Andrews swiftly push back on that read with this environmentalist tale in defense of people who stand up for something, even when it seems no one is willing to stand beside them.
“Hoppers” is Pixar by way of a creator, Chong, whose career isn’t exclusively tied to the studio. That’s likely why his movie is more daring in its humor and tone, bringing a refreshing infusion of mischief to Pixar while maintaining the genuine emotional gravitas that has endeared the company to audiences for over 30 years.
Why is Mabel’s psyche roaming around inside a fake beaver à la “Avatar”? After discovering that this technology has been developed by one of her professors, Mabel thinks it could be the answer to saving the local forest glade where self-aggrandizing mayor Jerry (Jon Hamm) wants to build a highway. Mabel’s grandmother instilled in her an appreciation for nature as a reminder that she’s part of something greater than herself. Collecting signatures isn’t yielding results to stop construction, so, to the dismay of the scientists in charge, Mabel hops into the human-made mammal to learn from the creatures themselves why they’ve left the glade, giving Jerry carte blanche to destroy their home.
The poignancy-to-comedy ratio is precisely calibrated. Sharp gags, whether visual or in superbly timed lines of dialogue often laced with irony, work on multiple levels. A few moments like an accidental death or the wild introduction of an aquatic character are so wonderfully out of left field they make one’s head spin. That also goes for instances late in Mabel’s adventure in which “Hoppers” steps into amusingly creepy terrain, paying homage to the horror genre. These impish touches involve a wicked caterpillar (Dave Franco) whose mother, the Insect Queen, is voiced by acting royalty Meryl Streep. Each group of animals has its own ruler.
Since most scenes occur in the forest glade, the artists at Pixar have created strikingly rendered settings which, while aiming for photorealism, also have a fantastical glow to them, highlighting the inherent magic of nature. That such a seemingly commonplace location is elevated to feel mesmerizing speaks to how animation can make the mundane anew. That’s on top of how the rotund beavers in “Hoppers” have been conceived for maximum cuteness. One of them, Mabel’s guide through this ecosystem, is the disarmingly adorable King George (Bobby Moynihan), who wears a tiny crown (Where did he get it? No one knows) and rules over all mammals with a gentle hand.
Mabel’s friendship with King George, who doesn’t know she is human, becomes the movie’s heartstring-pulling core. The jovial royal believes he can persuade Jerry to change course. Mabel, conversely, doesn’t think Jerry will listen. Her cynicism and King George’s sincere faith in others clash. Among Mabel’s non-furry pals, Tom Lizard (Tom Law) becomes a scene-stealer. (The crazy-eyed, eloquent reptile first became an online sensation as part of a post-credits scene in “Elio.”)
Chong and his team include a minuscule but brilliant detail that illustrates how character design can have major narrative impact: When the animals are speaking among themselves, their eyes are large and expressive, full of life. But when the film takes the perspective of a human looking at the forest dwellers, their eyes appear small and dark, almost nondescript. It’s a subtly visual symbol for how we often fail to gaze at others with understanding.
There are many heavy hitters still to come, but “Hoppers” feels like the first great animated movie of the year. At a time when our right to protest is under siege, this sci-fi yarn exalts the way an individual’s conviction can plant seeds of change, leading to a stronger sense of community. Neither simplistically optimistic nor preachy, “Hoppers” smuggles timely ideas inside a rodent body. Pond rules would probably call that a beaver victory.
‘Hoppers’
Rated: PG, for action/peril, some scary images and mild language
