Ever since Hunter Greene stepped foot on campus at Sherman Oaks Notre Dame High as a 14-year-old freshman, everyone has predicted stardom in baseball. But one day, it will be remembered how much he has done to help inspire and encourage the next generation of students to follow their dreams.
Greene, the No. 2 draft pick of the Cincinnati Reds in 2017, has become a member of the team’s starting rotation while continuing to serve as a role model for others.
On Saturday, he returned to Notre Dame to present two scholarship awards from his foundation given annually to a boy and girl who demonstrates character and commitment to their community. It’s the seventh and eighth scholarships since he began the annual presentation four years ago.
Donors list for the Hunter Greene Scholarship Fund at Sherman Oaks Notre Dame.
(Eric Sondheimer / Los Angeles Times)
Even in high school, Greene was seen as someone who could be a leader in helping others. He embraced that role and has continued as a professional baseball player, whether it’s at his former school or helping youth around the country.
Notre Dame held an alumni baseball game, where former major leaguers Brendan Ryan and Brett Hayes were among the participants.
Greene did not play, but what he continues to do off the field is admired and much appreciated.
This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email eric.sondheimer@latimes.com.
It is painful to have to write about Catherine O’Hara, so alive and lively a presence, in the past tense. O’Hara has lived inside my head — is it too corny to say my heart? — from “SCTV” to “Schitt’s Creek” to “The Studio,” on whose second season she was scheduled to start work, when she died, Friday at 71.
Any appearance constituted a recommendation for — a benediction upon — whatever she was appearing in; you felt she would only say yes to things that used her well, that sounded fun or interesting, and that her casting reflected well on the project and people who cast her. I think of her not as a careerist, but a Canadian. Of joining “Schitt’s Creek,” she said when I interviewed her in 2015, “it took me a few moments to commit, [but] I already trusted [co-creator, co-star] Eugene [Levy] as a writer and an actor, and as a good man who I could stand to spend time with.”
This is how it began for her, in Toronto, where her brother Marcus was dating Gilda Radner, who was in “Godspell” with Levy and Martin Short. “And it was really watching Gilda when I realized, ‘cause I’d always liked acting in school, that it was actually a local possibility. And then she got into Second City theater, and I was a waitress there — it’s like I stalked her — and then she did the show for a while and then took on a job for the National Lampoon. So I got to understudy or take her place — I got to join the cast, and Eugene was in it. It was really just the luck of having a professional actor suddenly in my life.”
As an “SCTV” early adopter, O’Hara was first attractive to me because she was funny, but she was also beautiful — a beauty she could subvert by a subtle or broad rearrangement of her features. Though fundamentally a comic actress, her characters could feel pained or tragic beneath the surface — even Lola Heatherton, one of her signature “SCTV” characters, an over-exuberant spangled entertainer (“I love you! I want to have your babies!” was a catch phrase) is built on desperation. Among many, many other parts, she played a teenaged Brooke Shields singing Devo’s “Whip It!,” Katherine Hepburn, a depressed Ingmar Bergman character, and, most memorably, chirpy teenage quiz show contestant Margaret Meehan, buzzing in with answers before the questions are asked, and growing tearfully undone as the host (Levy) becomes increasingly angry.
Elsewhere, she played a forgetful suburban mom in “Home Alone,” the work for which she’s arguably best known, given its ongoing mainstream popularity; an ice cream truck driver messing with Griffin Dunne in Martin Scorsese’s “After Hours”; and a tasteless art snob and indifferent mother in “Beetlejuice,” where she met her future husband, production designer Bo Welch. She shone in three Christopher Guest movies, paired with Fred Willard in “Waiting for Guffman” as community stars; opposite Levy in “Best in Show,” as a dog handler with a lot of ex-boyfriends; with Levy again in “A Mighty Wind,” as a reuniting ‘60s folk duo; and in “For Your Consideration” as an aging actress dreaming of an Oscar. In the great Netflix miniseries “A Series of Unfortunate Events” (also designed by Welch), she played an evil optometrist, the sometime girlfriend of Neil Patrick Harris’ Count Olaf, dark, cold, sexy. Last year, she picked up a supporting actress Emmy nomination as a dethroned but not knocked down executive in “The Studio”; she’s fierce and funny. And, though she was fundamentally a comic actress, she could play straight, as in the second season of “The Last of Us,” penetrating opposite Pedro Pascal as his therapist, and the widow of a man he killed.
Lived in across six, ever-richer seasons of “Schitt’s Creek,” Moira Rose is certainly her crowning achievement, a completely original, Emmy-winning creation whose quirks and complexities were embraced by a wide audience; going forth, she’ll be a reference to describe other characters — a “Moira Rose type” — with no explanation needed. With her original, breathy way of speaking, stressing odd syllables and stretching random vowels to the breaking point, her mad fashions and family of wigs, Moira is a sketch character with depth. Of all the Roses, she’s the one most resistant to adapting to their motel world, to coming down off the mountain, but she is as needy as she is condescending, and underlying her fantastic, tightly structured carapace is a fear that’s terribly moving when it shows through the cracks.
Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara in scene from “Schitt’s Creek.” The actors worked together frequently over the years.
(PopTV)
“I like to think she’s really threatened by this small-town life — because she’s been there, you know?” O’Hara said back when the series began. “That just makes it more threatening in my mind. And I like to think of her as more vulnerable than just snobby or superior. I think it’s way more insecure.”
Her tentative acceptance of her circumstance, as well as the show’s overarching arc, finds expression in the series finale, where, all white and gold, in flowing robes with long blonde locks cascading from beneath a bishop’s hat, she tearfully conducts the marriage of her son, David (co-creator Dan Levy). Speaking of a sort of wind of fate, she says, “All we can wish for our families, for those we love, is that that wind will eventually place us on solid ground. and I believe it’s done just that for my family in this little town, in the middle of nowhere.” You might cry, too.
I had the luck to speak with O’Hara several times over the run of the series. The last was in Canada, a day or two before the last day of filming. We sat on the apron of the Rosebud Motel, looking across the muddy parking lot to where fans were gathered on the road above.
“They’re there as much for each other as for us. It’s almost that we don’t have to be there, but we brought them together somehow.” That’s what actors and the stories they tell, give us — the joy, and sometimes the pain: A world of strangers, united in this awful moment, out of love for Catherine O’Hara.
She portrayed a spoiled socialite turned impoverished rural motel manager in “Schitt’s Creek.” She played a self-centered stepmom who, when possessed by an evil entity, channeled Harry Belafonte’s voice singing “Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)” in 1988’s “Beetlejuice.” She was the harried, forgetful mom who left her son behind in “Home Alone,” a goofy ‘90s comedy that would become a Christmas classic.
Catherine O’Hara, who died Friday at the age of 71, brought to life dozens of characters over her 50-year career across film and television, and no two of her performances were alike. She might play an eccentric artist one moment, an insufferable snob the next, then a deceptively “normal” housewife, animating each with their own personality, quirks and ticks.
Though a comedic performer at heart, O’Hara, as they say, had range. From her recurring role as a grieving therapist in Season 2 of HBO’s dystopian drama “The Last of Us” to voicing and acting a plethora of bizarre characters in Tim Burton‘s films, O’Hara made her mark. Here are 10 of her most memorable roles.
Don’t stop me if you’ve heard this one before, since I’m admittedly something of a broken record on the subject, but I very much prefer Marvel’s television series, which tend to be fleet, original and unpredictable, to its movies, which tend not to be. “Loki,”“Ms. Marvel,”“Moon Knight,”“Echo,”“WandaVision” and its spinoff “Agatha All Along” — all (among others) are worth watching, even the ones that are dumped after a season.
Developing longer stories with less money, the TV shows makers need to be inventive, creative with their resources, so they invest in characters and ideas rather than special effects and action. They focus on secondary or ensemble figures who would never be given a theatrical feature of their own to carry, are particular about culture and family and place, and are often less contingent on the Marvel Cinematic Universe, with its phases and stages, its crossovers and cross-promotions and long-range marketing plans. At once higher concept and more grounded than the movies, they’re interesting on their own, to the point where, when they finally hitch on to the Marvel multi-mega-serial train, I find them disappointing.
“Wonder Man,” whose eight episodes premiere all at once Tuesday on Disney+, is perhaps the most grounded of these series. Created by Destin Daniel Cretton (“Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings”) and Andrew Guest (who has written for “Community” and “Brooklyn Nine-Nine”), the series is a (generally) sweet, disarming tale of actors in Hollywood, tricked up with picture-business details that you don’t need to be au fait with the MCU to appreciate. There are things it might be helpful to know, but you can work out everything that matters through context. (Locals will enjoy playing Spot the Locations.)
Yahya Abdul-Mateen II plays Simon Williams, who as a child became a fan of a B-movie superhero called Wonder Man — not a “real” superhero, in this reality, merely a fiction. Now in his 30s, he’s a struggling actor in Hollywood, good enough to land a small part in an “American Horror Story” episode, but not clever enough to keep from slowing down the production with questions and suggestions when all he needs to do is deliver a couple of lines before a monster bites his head off. He loses the part and a girlfriend directly afterward.
Taking in a revival house matinee of “Midnight Cowboy,” he meets Trevor Slattery (Ben Kingsley), who is back from having played the Mandarin — that is, he acted the part of a terrorist called the Mandarin, believing it was just a job — in “Iron Man 3” and providing appealing comedy relief in “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings.” The character here is more fleshed out, something of a mess (but 13 years sober, he likes to point out), serious but not a joke. Before it all went wrong, Trevor played King Lear (in Croydon), appeared in “Coronation Street” and in a movie with Glenda Jackson, was off-off-off Broadway in “The Skin Our Teeth” and briefly had the lead in a hospital show with Joe Pantoliano, who’s very funny playing himself.
Trevor Slattery (Ben Kingsley), left, and Simon Williams (Yahya Adbul-Mateen II) team up in “Wonder Man.”
(Suzanne Tenner / Marvel Television)
Slattery tells Simon that European art director Von Kovak (Zlatko Burić) is rebooting Wonder Man, a role Simon feels born to play. He makes an end run around his unconvinced agent, Janelle (X Mayo), and wheedles an audition — where he again meets Trevor, auditioning for Barnaby, Wonder Man’s pal, or sidekick or something. There are wheels behind wheels in this setup, some of which could use a little grease, but for most of the series they do their squeaking off to the side. It’s a love story, above all — “Midnight Cowboy,” not an accidental choice, is more of a touchstone than any Marvel movie.
Simon does have powers — things shake, break or explode around him when he’s upset, and his strength can become super in a tight spot — which puts him in the sights of the Department of Damage Control, embodied by Arian Moayed as P. Cleary, who would like to contain him. But he struggles to keep them secret, especially in light of something called the Doorman Clause — its history established in a sidebar episode, a cautionary Hollywood fable with Josh Gad as himself — which prohibits anyone with super powers from working in film or television, all Simon lives for.
There is little in the way of action, and you won’t miss it. The fate of the world is never in question, but a callback for a second audition means everything. The only costumed characters are actors playing costumed characters; the only villains, apart from the bureaucracy that seeks to bring him in, are Simon’s own self-doubt and temper. As things progress, Trevor will become a mentor to Simon. As is common in stories of love and friendship, a betrayal will be revealed, but if you have seen even a few such stories, you know how that’s going to go, and will be glad it does.
Whether discussing acting techniques or the traffic they’re stuck in on Hollywood Boulevard (Trevor: “Probably the Hollywood Bowl.” Simon: “It’s too late for the Bowl.” Trevor: “It’s usually the Bowl. I remember seeing Cher there once — breathtaking. Chaka Khan, now there’s a woman”), Abdul-Mateen and Kingsley work well together; their energies are complementary, laid back and loose versus worked up and tight and, of course, each will have something to teach one another about who they are and who they could be. I was genuinely anxious for them, as friends, more so than just wondering how such and such a superhero (or team) might defeat such and such a supervillain (or team).
“Our ideas about heroes and gods, they only get in the way,” says Von Kovak, putting a room of hopeful actors through their paces, and essentially speaking for the series he’s in. “Too difficult to comprehend them. Let’s find the human underneath.”
