character

Like the milieu in which they’re set, prison movies can be terribly constricting. Often focusing on well-worn themes of masculinity, regret and redemption, they feature (and sometimes indulge) rough-hewn portrayals of tortured characters suffering through physical and emotional tumult. Inherently compelling but also a shade predictable, the genre promises a tantalizing glimpse at a terrifyingly macho world — one that most of us are fortunate not to know firsthand.

Cal McMau’s feature directorial debut hardly reinvents the formula, but it does remind audiences what remains so sturdy about the premise of an ordinary man trying to stay alive behind bars. And thanks to the latest impressive turn from rising star David Jonsson, “Wasteman” even finds a few new notes to play within a familiar stark melody.

Jonsson is Taylor, who has been serving 13 years in a U.K. prison for a drug deal that went tragically wrong, leading to an accidental death. Soft-spoken and overly accommodating, the young man mostly wants to avoid trouble, allowing himself to be bullied by cell-block thugs Paul (Alex Hassell) and Gaz (Corin Silva) while offering to cut their hair in exchange for the pills that fuel his addiction. Taylor has learned to go along to get along, existing in a zombie-like state from the perpetual high he chases.

But Taylor’s stasis is interrupted by the news that he may be granted early parole. (The overstuffed U.K. penal system needs to shed nonviolent prisoners to make room for dangerous offenders.) Longing to reconnect with his estranged teenage son Adam (Cole Martin), Taylor can see the light at the end of the tunnel — until the arrival of Dee, his new cellmate.

Played by a snarling, coiled Tom Blyth, Dee swaggers whereas Taylor shrinks. Seeing his new home as his kingdom, Dee quickly becomes the prison’s chief supplier of whatever you need — sneakers, candy, drugs — while ferociously asserting his dominance. (Early on, Dee slashes a fellow inmate’s face, recognizing him as someone who once ran with a rival crew.) Taylor adapts to the volatile situation as he always has, serving as the unthreatening beta, eventually earning Dee’s trust and friendship. Soon, Dee takes an interest in Taylor, ordering his lackeys on the outside to give Adam gifts that they claim are from his dad.

“Wasteman” introduces this odd-couple scenario and then waits for their fragile coexistence to rupture. Accustomed to being the prison’s top dogs, Paul and Gaz don’t take kindly to Dee invading their turf, resulting in an escalation of tension that puts Taylor’s parole at risk. But if much of “Wasteman” follows an expected trajectory, the film’s conception of Taylor proves thornier than anticipated.

Although probably best known for the HBO series “Industry,” Jonsson has demonstrated a dazzling range over a short period of time, including acing romantic dramas (“Rye Lane”) and dystopian thrillers (“The Long Walk”). But what unites his diverse roles is the sense of a sensitive, intelligent actor who constantly makes us wonder what he’s thinking.

Jonsson’s silences always seem to say so much and in “Wasteman” he capitalizes on his reserved demeanor and smaller frame to create a character who is much less frightening than those around him. Unlike Dee, he’s no hardened criminal, merely a guy who made one stupid mistake to financially support his child, and “Wasteman” initially encourages viewers to sympathize with this delicate soul who’s been thrown to the wolves.

Gradually, though, Jonsson complicates our feelings about Taylor. Equally desperate to be freed and to keep getting high — essentially escaping one prison while remaining in another — he slowly reveals himself to have little in the way of principles or ethics. When Paul and Gaz confront Dee, Taylor’s response is so cowardly that it’s pathetic, suggesting a spinelessness that bedeviled him long before he wound up in jail. The film presents Taylor as a kindly spirit, which turns out to be little more than calculated self-preservation.

Within the confines of a fairly conventional prison drama, McMau dissects an anonymous nobody who discovers that, both in prison and in life, there are consequences for not taking sides. Despite Dee’s savagery, Blyth portrays Taylor’s cellmate as loyal and honest — someone who believes in a personal code of conduct. The movie’s bitterest irony is that, of the two men, it’s ultimately Dee who may be more honorable.

McMau’s attempts to amplify the story’s grim authenticity occasionally fall flat. (Inspired by footage shot by actual inmates with contraband cellphones, the first-time director incorporates stagey inserts meant to re-create these intimate, graphic images.) He’s on firmer footing exploring his two leads as they square off inside this smoldering crucible. Like Jonsson, Blyth hints at a whole universe inside his character simply by the way he quietly listens and observes. As Taylor’s parole looms, the stakes grow. By the time “Wasteman” reaches its ambiguous finale, our loyalties are far from clear-cut.

In the first of several significant flashbacks in “Over Your Dead Body,” Samara Weaving’s unhappy Lisa complains to a friend about a hunting trip her equally miserable husband Dan (Jason Segel) is taking her on. “You know how much I hate guns,” Lisa fumes. “So dangerous.” Turns out, she’s actually telling two lies, which is par for the course for this twisty yet underwhelming dark comedy that views marriage as both a hyperviolent blood sport and a battle to the death.

Based on Norwegian filmmaker Tommy Wirkola’s 2021 “The Trip,” “Over Your Dead Body” concerns a couple whose wedded bliss has faded along with their professional prospects. Dan directed a moderately successful sci-fi film several years ago but is now stuck shooting cheesy pop-up ads. Meanwhile, Lisa’s nascent acting career is flailing. As the movie begins, Dan conspicuously informs his production team that he and his wife are going hiking in the middle of nowhere — something, he insists, the risk-taking Lisa wants to do, despite how perilous that might be. What we soon realize is that he’s creating cover for his nefarious plan, which is to kill Lisa at his family’s forest cottage, making it look like she disappeared without a trace in the woods.

But director Jorma Taccone eventually reveals that it’s not just Dan who has murder on his mind. That first flashback rewinds to Lisa’s simultaneous scheming, claiming to those close to her that Dan longs to go hunting — when, in fact, she’s secretly brought a rifle so that the authorities will assume he accidentally shot himself. (Whatever fears she once harbored about firearms are, clearly, no longer an issue, if they ever were.) Dan is offended when he uncovers her plot: Why would she want to kill him? At least he’s justified, he believes, having caught Lisa in an affair with her scene partner.

More surprises are in store as Dan and Lisa engage in a deadly standoff in the cabin, only to discover that they’re not alone. Another flashback details how two convicted killers, Todd (Keith Jardine) and Pete (Timothy Olyphant), escaped from a local penitentiary with the help of Pete’s girlfriend, prison guard Allegra (Juliette Lewis), and are seeking refuge at the cottage. Suddenly, the feuding married couple must work together to stay alive.

One-third of the comedy troupe the Lonely Island, Taccone previously directed the big-screen adaptation of the “Saturday Night Live” sketch “MacGruber” and co-directed the endlessly rewatchable mockumentary “Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping.” For “Over Your Dead Body,” he teams with producer David Leitch, whose 87North shingle specializes in R-rated action-comedies like “Nobody” and “Violent Night.” Taccone’s irreverent, slyly shocking style would seem a good match for a story in which the pain of romantic discontent is paired with myriad scenes in which a variety of weapons wreak grisly havoc, including lawnmowers, sports cars, gardening equipment and a sock with a pool ball in it.

But despite Segel and Weaver’s best efforts, they can’t make this bickering duo deliciously awful, the characters proving more grating than hilariously combustible. And when Pete and his cohorts arrive, they’re too broadly quirky to be either menacing or hysterical, although Olyphant’s long-suffering leader has some nice moments slowly processing how dumb Todd and Allegra are.

Other than one queasy homage to “Deliverance,” the film’s handling of the showdown between this drab married couple and the cartoonish criminals is rarely gripping. Instead, “Over Your Dead Body” delivers over-the-top fight sequences emphasizing grimaces and gross-out laughs. People aren’t simply shot in the head — the bullet transforms it into a gooey slab of meat. Fingers get sliced off, stakes are driven through hands and a foot is reduced to bloody tatters. Taccone handles all this with gleeful excessiveness but once you’ve seen one pulverized face, you’ve seen them all.

A droll irony is intended to unfold alongside the rising body count. Dan and Lisa embarked on this getaway to murder one another, but they’ll end up rekindling their love. To be sure, Segel and Weaving are much more winning once their characters start warming to one another. Still, the film feels like a missed opportunity for Weaving, who became a scream queen in the “Ready or Not” films. In those movies, as an unsuspecting bride thrust into a life-or-death situation, she appealingly balanced a convincing physical performance with an understated comedic streak, her beleaguered character enduring one absurdity after another.

Weaving finds herself in a somewhat similar role in “Over Your Dead Body” and this uneven action-comedy is anchored by her had-it-up-to-here performance, which provides a witty insight into marriage that the film otherwise ignores. It’s bad enough that Lisa has to deal with Dan’s insecurity — now she’s got to tangle with some dopey crooks? Women have to do everything in a relationship.

Plucked from a previous life as a working actor, Richard Gadd experienced a disorienting whirlwind less than two years ago. “Baby Reindeer,” his painfully personal 2024 Netflix show, based on the sexual assault he survived, instantly opened the floodgates of fame for him.

“The show came out on Thursday, and by Sunday, I could barely walk anywhere without being recognized, without being stopped,” Gadd says while visiting The Times’ offices earlier this month. “That’s an adjustment because I always thought if anything like that ever happened, it would be a bit more of a gradual process. But it was overnight, so I didn’t have time to adjust.”

Now the winner of three Emmy Awards and a slew of other accolades for that series, which he starred in, wrote and served as showrunner, Gadd, 36, has already helmed a new emotionally ferocious show.

Probing the tropes of rigid masculinity, “Half Man,” premiering Thursday on HBO, chronicles the destructive bond between two men over several decades. Niall and Ruben — whose respective mothers are romantic partners — call themselves brothers but they couldn’t be more dissimilar.

Bullied at school, meek Niall (played by Mitchell Robertson in his youth and Jamie Bell in adulthood) lost his father as a young boy. He dreams of being a writer. Meanwhile, the insolent and hyper-confident Ruben (Stuart Campbell as a teen and Gadd as a grown-up) has been in trouble with the law from a tender age. Facing any conflict, he resorts to brutal violence. When Ruben takes Niall under his wing, the two become inseparable. But as the years and resentments pile on, their cancerous brotherhood threatens to obliterate them both.

“Half Man” follows the destructive bond between Ruben (Richard Gadd), left, and Niall (Jamie Bell) over several decades.

(Anne Binckebanck / HBO)

“Richard’s writing is really unique and really singular,” Bell says on a video call from England, where he’s currently shooting the “Peaky Blinders” sequel series and is sporting a shorter haircut. “He identifies that real gray area of humanity really well and he puts a voice to the most uncomfortable places that we go into or things that we think when we’re alone in the dark, when we think no one’s watching.”

Gadd wrote the first episode of what would become “Half Man” back in 2019, while he still was performing the live version of “Baby Reindeer,” which he turned into the series. At the time, he recalls, society at large was seriously engaging in conversations around toxic masculinity and sexual violence as the #MeToo movement gained strength.

“It wasn’t necessarily that I set out going, ‘Oh, I want to make a show about that,’” Gadd says. “It was more that something must have just drifted into my head thinking, ‘You take two men repressed in their current life, repressed in the modern world. And then you go all the way back to their childhood. You contextualize learned behavior; you contextualize trauma and things they learned that make them these repressed adults. And you bring a bit of context to, I suppose, difficult male behavior in the present.’”

As “Baby Reindeer” launched his career as a creator, Gadd put “Half Man” on ice for four years but couldn’t stop thinking about returning to it. “Even as I was coming to the end of ‘Baby Reindeer,’ I thought, ‘I’m really looking forward to getting back to that project,” he recalls. “The second ‘Baby Reindeer’ finished, I thought, ‘This is what I’m going to do now.’”

Sitting across from the mild-mannered Gadd, the magnitude of his transformation on screen for “Half Man” becomes even more impressive. Gadd comes off as thoughtful and emphatic, while Ruben, his physically imposing character, commands trepidation.

“The second ‘Baby Reindeer’ finished, I thought, ‘This is what I’m going to do now,’” Gadd says about working on “Half Man.”

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

Watching Gadd as the rage-fueled Ruben, one might be surprised to learn he originally had no intention of acting in “Half Man.” After wearing multiple hats on “Baby Reindeer,” Gadd thought this time around he could get a purely external bird’s-eye view of a project as showrunner and writer of “Half Man.” But eventually people around him suggested he should be in front of the camera once again.

“My initial response was always, ‘That’s just so far away from anything I’ve done before. It’s so far away from me. Are people going to buy it?’” he recalls. “And behind every single fear-based thought was a worry of what people might think, which in my opinion, isn’t a good enough reason to not do something.”

Convinced audiences would struggle to see the guy from “Baby Reindeer” as this “hard man,” a U.K. term for tough and intimidating men, he had to physically morph. To inhabit a new body, Gadd underwent a strict exercise regimen, and most importantly, a new diet.

“I had a chef make these meals in England, fun enough, and send them up to Scotland where I was filming,” he recalls. “I’d eat them at specific times. You go through periods of fasting and through dehydration whenever you had your top off. There was a real science to it.”

And yet, though he at first worried he wouldn’t look big enough, Gadd refused to portray Ruben with a chiseled physique conceived for mere aesthetics.

“I didn’t want him to have a six pack, I wanted him to feel like a real person,” Gadd says. “Sometimes when you see someone on TV and they’re ripped, I almost don’t think that’s real strength. Someone like Ruben, they wear their life in their body, they’re heavy set. It’s not ripped. It’s bulky. It’s natural to him.”

Before he agreed to play the character, Gadd auditioned numerous actors for the part, but with all of them he felt they were too focused on his appearance as an imposing figure and not his inner turmoil. “Ruben is extremely sad as a person. He’s terribly broken and traumatized,” he says.

For the series, Gadd bulked up to become more physically imposing: “Someone like Ruben, they wear their life in their body, they’re heavy set. It’s not ripped. It’s bulky. It’s natural to him.” Richard Gadd in “Half Man.” (Anne Binckebanck / HBO)

When asked if he sees himself as Ruben, Gadd contemplates the question, debating whether it’s his “jetlagged brain” or ambivalence about finding some of Ruben within him.

“Do I see myself in Ruben?” After a pause, he concedes: “All of his behavior is a reaction to a deep traumatic happening in his life. I can relate to finding it extremely difficult to get past big traumatic events and coming to terms with them and coming to terms with yourself even as a result of them.”

With less hesitation, Bell, 40, acknowledges that he finds a certain kinship with his character. As a teenager, Bell flocked to people with a defiant edge. “I grew up without a father in an all-female household and I felt very naked as a child in terms of needing to be protected by someone who was dominant and aggressive,” he says. “I totally understand why Niall seeks solace in someone like him. No one will touch Ruben. There is a safety in that.”

Gadd says he doesn’t think about celebrities when searching for the actors. “I’m quite fame-averse when it comes to casting because I think sometimes it can get in the way,” he explains. “You can have a show, which starts up with all the best intentions, turn into a sort of acting vehicle for someone, or the discussion becomes about the actor doing this role.”

That said, when the casting director on “Half Man” asked him about his “dream cast,” Gadd expressed Bell was the only one who would genuinely excite him. But could that happen? “In my head, I was still in pre-‘Baby Reindeer’ time where I thought, ‘Well, somebody like him is not going to be interested.’ And then I thought, ‘Well, he might be,’” Gadd says.

For his part, Bell found the “nihilism” in Niall, a man desperately running from his true self and living in Ruben’s shadow, an enticing and complex character to play. “[Niall] conceals himself in many different ways, and has a lot of self-loathing, but at the same time has all these ambitions and actually is incredibly egotistical and thinks that his way is the correct way, and that other people don’t understand that he is terminally unique,” Bell explains with a chuckle.

Bell, who plays Niall, says his character “conceals himself in many different ways, and has a lot of self-loathing, but at the same time has all these ambitions and actually is incredibly egotistical …”

(Anne Binckebanck / HBO)

Aside from a tight schedule to produce “Half Man,” the challenge for Bell was adjusting to the dramatic intensity that Gadd was after. “I wasn’t particularly prepared for that, therefore sometimes my reading of certain scenes I’d get wrong. We’d start scenes and Richard was like, ‘You are pitching it at like a six, and this is very much an 11,’” Bell recalls laughing. I was like, ‘Oh, OK.’ That took some modulating.”

In Gadd’s mind, Bell remains an “underrated” artist. A proud Scotsman, Gadd recalls loving Bell in the 2007 romantic dramedy “Hallam Foe,” where the British actor played Scottish. For “Half Man,” Gadd thought Bell could convey the pain that haunts Niall, even as his actions paint him less like Ruben’s victim and more like a vengeful participant in the chaos.

“There’s always something I find so vulnerable about Jamie and I knew that I was going to take Niall in some really big journeys where he was going to almost test the audience’s love for him,” Gadd says. That Niall finds Ruben so alluring is natural to Gadd, who believes the notion of a valiant male figure has been bred into everyone via fables and fairy tales.

Gadd adds that whether or not we like to admit it, we’re drawn to alpha male characters. “Because from an early age, we’ve been told they are always at the top of the social hierarchy. And as a result, we’ve always, as a society, answered to those kinds of people as some sort of leaders.”

And though he says he’s unfamiliar with the “manosphere,” the misogynistic and chauvinistic online community, Gadd doesn’t believe Ruben would fall for the gurus in those circles who claim to have the answers for young guys to become “real men.”

“Ruben carved his own masculinity. To give him credit, if that’s even something you can give him, those spaces wouldn’t hold any weight for him. He’s his own man,” Gad says. “He would never follow anyone on social media. He’s the person to be followed.”

Based on the tone of Gadd’s output thus far, it may come as a surprise that as a young person he dreamed of creating a show along the lines of the U.K.’s “The Office,” which he considers a “perfect piece of art.” The stories he is telling now better reflect his “neuroses” and the experiences he’s endured.

“My life just took a very dramatic turn, and my sensibilities weren’t workplace sitcoms anymore. When I grew up and I was doing comedy I thought, ‘I’ll write a sitcom one day and every character will be sort of funny in it,’” he says. “But my life just took a turn to the point where I needed my writing and my art darkened because what I went through was very dark.”

Humor is not entirely absent from “Half Man,” some of the characters’ reactions to their distressing realities earn a chuckle. Still, Gadd’s funny bone might also find an outlet in other people’s narratives. He was recently announced as part of the cast in Apple TV’s upcoming high-concept series “Husbands,” for which he already shot his scenes. Adapted from a bestselling novel of the same name, it stars Juno Temple as a woman who gets to experience life with a different partner every time she changes the light bulb in her attic.

“I’m very picky with stuff I take on. Because I love writing my own work so much, anything that takes me out on someone else’s show has to be very special. And this was very special,” Gadd says.

“Everything I do doesn’t have to be dark,” he adds with a soft smile.

EastEnders fans were not expecting to see one character randomly head back to the BBC soap without warning during Monday’s episode of the BBC soap amid a scene with Ravi Gulati

Fans got a surprise during Monday’s episode of EastEnders as a character returned without warning after four years offscreen.

With the episode now up on BBC iPlayer ahead of it airing on BBC One on Monday evening, we saw Ravi Gulati faced with a blast from the past. The death of his ‘father’ Ranveer Gulati was revisited, as Ravi headed to hospital amid his mental health spiralling.

There, his nurse was none other than his ex and former stepmother Nina Gupta. Fans may recall Nina was having an affair with Ravi behind Ranveer’s back.

Around this time we saw Suki Panesar believe she had killed Ranveer after he sexually assaulted her. She attacked him in self-defence, and Ravi walked in and decided to help her cover up the crime.

READ MORE: EastEnders reveals identity of Vicki’s blackmailer – and their tragic reason for crimeREAD MORE: Emmerdale fans ‘rumble’ Dr Todd’s reason for targeting Jacob in sick plot

It was soon apparent his ‘dad’ was still alive though, and Ravi killed him. Nina was helping Ravi trying to get Ranveer’s money, and she covered for Ravi for killing her husband too.

Now she’s back, treating Ravi in hospital where she addressed their past. Seeing him struggling, she said it was karma for what he did all those years ago.

Fans were divided over the return, as one fan posted on social media: “Now why did we need to bring Nina back. We didn’t need her the first time and she’s just proven why we didn’t need her this time.”

A second fan said: “I’m glad they bought back Nina for this episode cause even though this sl was triggered by the drugs and the spiking I think it reminds people that everything genuinely stems from Ranveer and Nish.” A third added: “Unexpected Nina in the bagging area!!!”

Another viewer said: “Seeing Nina return today took me by suprise but has equally left me convinced that Kheerat and/or Ash might return at some point. Kheerat took the fall for Ranveer’s death in the end and that showdown at the surgery beteeen Ash and Nina was brilliant.”

The reactions kept on coming too, with one fan saying: “Bringing back Nina Gupta wasn’t on my bingo card!” another confessed: “For some reason I thought Nina died lmao clearly not.”

A final comment read: “I was really divided about Nina. I think it’s really good when you bring back a past character to explore someone else’s past and I think this did that and reminded us of that time in Ravi’s life. But equally why was she acting like she wasn’t a ‘baddie’ style character then too?

“She was hardly innocent! I thought it was a good twist as we didn’t know it was going to happen and it was like oh hello, but at the same time I don’t know if it added much.”

EastEnders airs Mondays to Thursdays at 7:30pm on BBC One and BBC iPlayer. * Follow Mirror Celebs and TV on TikTok , Snapchat , Instagram , Twitter , Facebook , YouTube and Threads .

Inside the ornate Bovard Auditorium, Larry David kept a full audience in stitches as he discussed the creation and legacy of his improv hit, “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” which concluded in 2024 after 12 seasons.

In a conversation with Lorraine Ali — who wrote “No Lessons Learned: The Making of Curb Your Enthusiasm,” which retraces the show’s long run with cast interviews, episode guides and behind-the-scenes material — David reflected on the separation between himself and the abrasive on-screen persona he adopted for more than two decades.

“I wish I was that Larry David,” he said.

David spoke about the outrageous audition process for “Curb,” wherein actors tried to navigate a brief written scenario without any dialogue to guide them as David lambasted them in character. Out of this process came iconic one-liners and beloved characters, such as Leon, played by J.B. Smoove.

“People bring out certain things, and when I would act with them, some of them would make me seem funny,” David said. “I go, ‘Oh, that’s good — let’s give him a part.’”

David cited “Palestinian Chicken” as one of his favorite episodes of the show. In the episode, David is caught between a delicious new Palestinian chicken restaurant, a Palestinian girlfriend and an outraged inner circle of Jewish friends.

He also spoke briefly about his upcoming episodic HBO series, “Life, Larry and the Pursuit of Happiness,” a historical spoof that will retrace United States history for the country’s 250th founding anniversary. The series will premiere on Aug. 7.

“A lot of wigs, costumes, beards — fake beards,” David said. “Nothing worse than fake beards.”

The controversial ending of “Seinfeld,” which David co-wrote with comedian Jerry Seinfeld, was polarizing among fans when it was released, David said. After a recent rewatch, however, David said he thought it was “pretty good,” to a round of applause from the audience.

Near the end of the panel, an audience member asked a question some definitely had on their mind: Will “Seinfeld” ever get a reunion?

“No,” David replied without missing a beat.

Christopher Meloni has a message for Elliot Stabler fans: “Thank you … for sticking with him and welcoming him back.”

The “Law & Order: Organized Crime” star took to Instagram on Thursday to convey his appreciation for his character’s long run in the franchise after it was revealed that the NBC show had been canceled after five seasons.

“I just saw that they announced … ‘Organized Crime’ won’t be coming back,” Meloni said in his video post. “So I wanted to take this moment to say thank you to the fans who not only helped give the character of Elliot Stabler life and longevity, but for sticking with him and welcoming him back.”

Meloni’s run as the seasoned detective began in “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit,” which debuted in 1999. Stabler investigated New York’s “especially heinous” sex-based crimes with partner Olivia Benson (Mariska Hargitay) and other detectives in his unit for the show’s first 12 seasons. (The character was written off the show in advance of the Season 13 premiere because Meloni and NBC could not come to an agreement on a new contract.)

Stabler returned to “SVU” in 2021 for a crossover event that helped launch “Organized Crime,” a “Law & Order” spinoff focused on NYPD officers who track down “vicious and violent members of the underworld.” While the character has occasionally appeared in “SVU” episodes since his return, the end of “Organized Crime” likely means Meloni is done playing Stabler full time, at least for now. “Law & Order: SVU,” meanwhile, has been renewed for a 28th season.

“I had a great time playing him,” Meloni said in his Instagram message. “It was a great ride. Thank you. You helped give me a career that I never dreamed of. Nearly 17 odd years.”

The “Heartstopper” universe began as a small web comic that gained traction on Tumblr nearly a decade ago. It’s now a global phenomenon.

Alice Oseman’s fictional world, where LGBTQ+ teenagers freely explore love, friendship and identity, expanded first to graphic novels before being turned into a hugely popular Netflix series.

The rom-com, which debuted in 2021, is part of a growing portfolio of young adult book adaptations that have flooded streaming platforms in recent years. Hulu’s college drama “Tell Me Lies” and HBO Max’s hockey romance “Heated Rivalry” have become pop culture sensations, joining hits like Amazon Prime Video’s “The Summer I Turned Pretty” and the “To All the Boys” trilogy on Netflix.

“We really thought it was going to be quite a niche show that was seen by a specific group of people,” Oseman said of “Heartstopper.” “It kind of blasted up beyond our expectations.”

After three seasons on the streaming giant, the British coming-of-age series will conclude with a film later this year.

Corinna Brown and Kizzy Edgell starred in Alice Oseman’s queer romance “Heartstopper.”

(Teddy Cavendish / Netflix)

These adaptations often tell tales as old as time of young love and emotional turmoil, but it’s the diverse representation that draws audiences in, said Yalda T. Uhls, founder and chief executive of UCLA’s Center for Scholars & Storytellers.

Audiences gravitate toward authenticity, Uhls added. Young people increasingly want to see stories that reflect their lives, according to a survey administered by Uhls’ nonprofit last year.

“It has to resonate and feel authentic to the time,” Uhls said. “This generation really sees stereotypes pretty quickly … they’ll see inappropriate behavior quickly, and they will call it out.”

Viewers are hungry for diverse casting and storylines across Hollywood. Last year, audiences showed up to the theater at higher rates for movies that had people of color in the cast, according to the annual UCLA Hollywood Diversity Report, released in March.

Netflix’s focus on YA adaptations has paid off, driving more than 1.2 billion total views worldwide in 2025. Audiences are drawn to the platform’s fresh and inclusive interpretations of the genre, said Jinny Howe, Netflix’s head of scripted series for the U.S. and Canada.

“It is still harder to get marginalized stories sort of made and seen by people, but ‘Heartstopper’ is part of that journey,” said Oseman, who also serves as series creator and executive producer.

Lovie Simone plays track star Keisha Clark in “Forever,” a reimagining of Judy Blume’s 1975 novel.

(Elizabeth Morris / Netflix)

“Forever,” a reimagining of Judy Blume’s 1975 book that debuted on Netflix last year, follows two young Black protagonists who fall in love in Los Angeles. The audience had “such a fervent passion for that story, I think, because of the specificity of those perspectives,” Howe said. “Los Angeles was really seen through these eyes.” The show’s second season will reportedly start filming in May.

Prime Video has leaned heavily into the genre, platforming hits like “Maxton Hall,” “Red, White & Royal Blue” and “The Summer I Turned Pretty,” which wrapped up a three-season run last year and has a film in the works.

Young adult adaptations are at the core of the platform’s broader efforts to champion diversity in storytelling, said Peter Friedlander, Prime Video’s head of global TV.

“We’re always looking for shows that give a reflection or a window into other people’s stories,” said Friedlander, also former head of U.S. and Canadian scripted series at Netflix. “This business has been building for a long time, and it’s exciting to see what’s coming out of it.”

Representation in these shows, however, is still far from perfect, said Nicholas Rickards, a doctoral candidate at Brock University in Ontario, Canada, whose research focuses on YA adaptations. Many shows that center a woman of color often still feature white male love interests, he said.

“Studios aren’t totally prepared to tell that story yet,” he said.

Filling a YA void

Streaming platforms’ focus on YA adaptations came as cable TV, which previously dominated the genre, tapered off.

YA retellings had long captivated audiences, finding widespread success during the 2010s. Networks like the CW and Freeform reigned then, airing now-classic teen dramas like “Pretty Little Liars” and “The Vampire Diaries.” The “Twilight” and “Hunger Games” universes and John Green book adaptations also dominated the box office.

Then the entertainment landscape changed. Social media and streaming became preferred modes of content consumption for young audiences, paving the way for platforms like Netflix, Prime Video, Hulu, Disney+ and HBO Max. Diverse storylines, coupled with the global reach of streaming platforms, have reignited an explosion of YA adaptations, and it’s a race that isn’t slowing down.

Younger generations are often difficult to attract, and YA reimaginings are just one way platforms are trying to break into the teenage demographic, said Jennifer Hessler, an assistant professor of cinema and media studies at the University of Southern California.

Lola Tung’s Belly is in a love triangle with Gavin Casalegno’s Jeremiah and Christopher Briney’s Conrad in “The Summer I Turned Pretty.”

(Erika Doss / Prime Video)

Netflix’s initial breakout success in the genre came with the release of “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,” a movie trilogy adapted from books written by Jenny Han, who’s also behind “The Summer I Turned Pretty.” The movies became massive hits and continue to drive viewership, drawing more than 55 million views globally last year, nearly eight years after the first film’s release, according to Netflix.

Younger generations are the target demographic of YA series at Prime Video, but the shows attract audiences of all ages, Friedlander said. Identifying and helping cultivate fresh storylines driven by relatable characters are integral to that success.

“If you really make the best version of a story, it can ripple out among different fandoms,” Friedlander said. “I do think that’s the ability of what streaming platforms can achieve as well, because you can really introduce the narrative to wider audiences.”

Made for streaming

Netflix doesn’t have a formula for a breakout success, Howe said, but strong voices that feel universal must be at the show’s core.

Jeff Norton, whose work focuses on book-to-screen adaptations, said he looks for characters he can fall in love with when choosing books to pitch for development.

“That’s the most important thing — to find a main character or a set of characters that I think the audience will resonate with,” said Norton, who is an executive producer of Netflix’s “Geek Girl,” which was greenlit for a second season.

The structures of young adult novels “lend themselves really nicely” to short TV series, Howe said, because it allows fans “to have more time as they’re living inside of these worlds and these experiences — it’s just that much more enriching.”

Streaming platforms usually release shorter seasons, often with six to 10 episodes — about half the episode order of a typical cable TV series.

Balancing the expectations of a book’s existing fandom while trying to attract a new audience is a major component of Friedlander’s role, he said, adding that “the television medium will often demand that you do change some of the journey along the way so it fits the rhythm.”

Norton, the showrunner of Netflix’s “Finding Her Edge,” said much of that show’s plot diverges from Jennifer Iacopelli’s novel. However, he focused on maintaining the book’s tone and found “the readership is actually very forgiving if you keep the characters whole and intact, but give them more to do.”

Oseman’s shift from novelist to TV writer — and now screenwriter — came with a steep learning curve. The growing pains were worth it, she said, because her story reached audiences who might never have picked up her books. Visual media has been crucial in bridging that gap.

“I want young queer people to be able to see themselves in the stories that they’re consuming,” she said. “I really hope that the existence of ‘Heartstopper’ will encourage people who are commissioning TV and movies … to take a chance.”

War has a way of curtailing imagination. When the news breaks of faraway civilian casualties — an erroneous air strike on a school that relied on outdated intelligence, for example — the mind takes refuge in abstractions and statistics.

Grief isn’t an infinite resource. There’s only so much distant suffering anyone can take in. Yet our moral health as a society depends on the recognition of our common humanity. We share something with the inhabitants of those countries whose civilization our government has threatened to destroy.

This is an important moment to experience “English,” Sanaz Toossi’s Pulitzer Prize-winning drama, set in an English-language classroom outside of Tehran in 2008. The play, now having its L.A. premiere at the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts, reminds us of the lives — the hopes, the dreams, the sorrows — on the other side of the headlines. (As I write this, the New York Times homepage has a story that stopped me dead in my tracks: ”Iranian Schools and Hospitals Are in Ruins, Times Analysis Shows.”)

Babak Tafti, left, and Marjan Neshat in “English” at The Wallis.

(Kevin Parry)

“English” isn’t trying to win any political arguments. Its focus is on the characters, who are in a Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOFL) prep class. The exam will have an oversize effect on the future possibilities of this small, mishmash group of students.

Elham (Tala Ashe) needs a high score to pursue her medical education in Australia. Roya (Pooya Mohseni) wants to join her son in Canada to be part of her granddaughter’s life, but Persian is frowned upon in her son’s assimilated, English-language household. Omid (Babak Tafti), whose English is far beyond anyone else’s level in the class, has a U.S. green card interview coming up. And Goli (Ava Lalezarzadeh), the youngest of the students, wants at the very least to be fluent in the lingua franca of American pop culture.

Marjan (Marjan Neshat), the teacher whose love for the English language is infused with longing and regret, harks back nostalgically on her years in Manchester before she returned to Iran. She insists for pedagogic reasons that the students only speak English in the classroom. But Elham, a contentious and fiercely competitive student, suspects that Marjan’s zeal for anglophone culture, including Hollywood romantic comedies, masks a resentment for the Iranian life she is now stuck with. (Neshat and Ashe are gracefully reprising their Tony-nominated performances.)

Tala Ashe, left, and Pooya Mohseni in “English” at The Wallis.

(Kevin Parry)

Mastering English can open doors, but what if you wish you didn’t have to walk through them? Elham is angry that she has to leave to pursue her medical dreams. When she speaks English, she feels like a diminished version of herself. She calls her accent “a war crime,” and grows frustrated in class that she can’t easily explain what she’s thinking and feeling in her halting English.

The other students might not be as truculent as Elham, but they are just as ambivalent about the necessity of learning English. Toossi doesn’t grapple explicitly with the fraught internal politics of the Iran of the period. The conversation in the classroom doesn’t turn to the repressive regime or the state requirement of headscarves or the geopolitical strategies that have alienated the Islamic Republic of Iran from the global community.

When I saw “English” in 2024 at the Old Globe in San Diego, I was acutely aware of what the playwright was not addressing. At the Wallis in 2026, in the wake of Operation Epic Fury and the blitzkrieg of unhinged rhetoric from President Trump, whose rationales and goals for the war seem to change with every public utterance, I was intensely appreciative of what Toossi was putting front and center — the variegated humanity of her characters.

Tala Ashe and Marjan Neshat in “English” at the Wallis.

(Kevin Parry)

This Atlantic Theater Company & Roundabout Theatre production, directed by Knud Adams, had a critically touted Broadway run, receiving four Tony nominations, including best play. The physical staging, featuring a rotating cube from set designer Martha Ginsberg, shows us the classroom from different vantages, bringing the play’s shifting perspective to three-dimensional life.

Toossi follows the interplay of the differing viewpoints and lived experiences. She’s not as concerned with settling differences as with understanding the thoughts and emotions animating the clashes of her divergent characters. The actors relish the pesky, droll, frequently adorable, sometimes incendiary individuality of their roles.

The play does something unique with language. When a character speaks English, an accent is employed and the manner is often a bit stumbling. When a character speaks Persian, the English that is heard is natural and relaxed, the sound of a native speaker.

The result is that these Iranian characters, when talking among themselves in their native tongue, sound awfully like Americans having a conversation in the mall or at a nearby table at a restaurant. We are no longer separated by language. The notion of the Iranian “other” falls by the wayside.

The cast of “English” at the Wallis.

(Kevin Parry)

It’s hard not to wonder if one of those missiles raining down on schools in recent weeks hit when Marjan was showing “Notting Hill” or another favorite rom-com to one of the students she was hoping might realize her dreams of living abroad. Omid, whose English surpasses Marjan’s own level, has excited such hopes, and the touchingly Chekhovian quasi-romance between them adds a gentle note of amorous wistfulness.

Adams’ production creates a cinematic penumbra through the projections of Ruey Horng Sun, a soundscape by Sinan Refik Zafar that lyrically underscores the actions and the emotionally attuned lighting of Reza Behjat. The effect heightens the romanticism of characters who are no longer lost to us in translation.

But the destination of the play is less about what these students sound like to an American audience than what they sound like to themselves. And that is a universal journey that transcends even the starkest barriers of language, culture and politics.

When the first two seasons of HBO’s teen drama “Euphoria” aired on Sunday nights, 25-year-old actor and singer Al-akhir Fletcher remembers racing online the second each episode ended, toggling between X (then Twitter) and FaceTime just to keep up with the collective reaction.

“I felt like I had to watch because I didn’t want any spoilers,” he recalled. “I didn’t want anyone to tell me about it. There was maybe one week I tried to wait to binge-watch it, and I couldn’t. Everybody was talking about it.”

That anticipation for Season 3, premiering Sunday, still lingers for Fletcher, though it’s tempered now by doubt and distance, thanks to a four-year gap between seasons. Nevertheless, Fletcher said he’ll finish the show.

“Only because I feel like I’ve invested so much already into the show and into the characters and in their stories,” he said. “So I do want to see it through. I want to know what happens, but there is a little bit of hesitation, especially with hearing about all of the politics and the behind-the-scenes drama of what’s happened with the show.”

When Euphoria last aired in 2022, it turned Maddy Perez’s cutout dresses into a going-out uniform, transformed Cassie Howard’s unraveling into a meme with a saying that everyone understood (“I have never, ever been happier”), and sent Labrinth’s score ricocheting across TikTok in slow-motion edits and tear-streaked montages. It also made bona fide stars out of its cast: Zendaya became an Emmy winner, in-demand actor and fashion icon; similarly, Sydney Sweeney has become an onscreen mainstay, and Jacob Elordi, an Oscar nominee this year.

And, crucially, for a stretch, “Euphoria” made HBO feel like a destination again, with episodes that demanded to be seen in real time and dissected instantly before the night was over.

In the four years since its previous season, though, Hollywood has endured dual labor strikes, streamers have tightened budgets and audiences have fractured into increasingly niche viewing habits. The monoculture that once lifted “Euphoria” has thinned, if it even exists at all.

So as the show returns after an unusually long hiatus, the question isn’t just what happens next for Rue and the gang, but whether “Euphoria” can still hit the way it once did. What we do know is the series isn’t picking up where it left off. Season 3 leaps forward five years, aging its characters out of high school and into a much murkier version of adulthood. Maddy (Alexa Demie) is working for a talent agent and navigating the blurry line between managing actors, influencers and potentially sex work-adjacent clients. Cassie (Sweeney) and Nate (Elordi) are set to marry, all while Cassie is attempting to start an OnlyFans account. And then there’s Rue (Zendaya), whose story can’t outrun the looming debt she owes a drug dealer.

“Euphoria’s” Season 3 returning cast, clockwise from left: Jacob Elordi, Alexa Demie and Sydney Sweeney. (Partick Wymore / HBO) (Jeremy Colegrove / HBO) (HBO)

Can a series disappear for four years and reclaim its choke hold on the culture?

Uncertainty hangs over its return and whether more seasons could be expected. (The show’s creator, Sam Levinson, has been evasive about declaring it the final season, while Zendaya told Drew Barrymore this week she believed it was.)

Interviews with fans and media experts suggest there’s no consensus on whether viewers will flock back like before. Some see “Euphoria” as too big to fail, a brand with enough residual heat to dominate conversation on arrival. Others aren’t so sure, pointing to the long hiatus, the off-screen turmoil and a television landscape that no longer moves in lockstep.

What made the show a breakout hit

Part of what makes questions around the show so difficult to answer is how singular “Euphoria” felt when it first arrived in 2019. At the time, HBO wasn’t in the business of teen dramas. The network had long built its identity on adult prestige — crime sagas, antiheroes and sprawling family epics — not stories centered on high schoolers. “Euphoria” marked a strategic shift, one that aimed to pull in younger viewers without diluting the network’s edge.

“I think this was supposed to be their first foray into quote-unquote young adult programming,” said Michel Ghanem, who writes about television. “They were interested in capturing a younger viewership who maybe hadn’t watched that much HBO up until then.”

What emerged didn’t resemble the traditional teen drama playbook. “Euphoria” was moodier and leaned into storylines rooted in addiction, sex and emotional volatility. HBO began experimenting more broadly with shows like “The Sex Lives of College Girls” and “Generation,” but “Euphoria” stood apart in both tone and ambition. The risk paid off.

“It grabbed on to an audience that loved the cast and the performances and the soundtrack and the cinematography,” Ghanem said. “So I think all of those elements together sort of made it into appointment television.”

Hunter Schafer, left, and Zendaya in Season 1 of “Euphoria.” The show premiered in 2019, becoming a hit for HBO.

(Eddy Chen / HBO)

Beneath the glitter and surreal visuals, some viewers saw versions of people and situations they already knew.

“I found a lot of familiarity in it because of being from L.A.,” said Darryl McCrary, a creative artist who is based here. “I felt like I knew the teenagers. I knew the secret drug addict and the out drug addict and the drug dealers. It felt very familiar. It felt like home in a way.”

Aspiring actor and “Euphoria” fan Cheyenne Washington, who grew up in a small town in Connecticut, also recognized the characters. “I went to high school with people like this. My high school isn’t like how it is on Disney Channel. My high school was ‘Euphoria.’”

By its second season, “Euphoria” had become one of HBO’s most-watched series, with episodes drawing millions of viewers. The Season 2 finale pulled in more than 6 million viewers across platforms, cementing the show as a crossover hit.

“That was the show that my students were talking about,” said Jason Mittell, professor of film and media culture at Middlebury College. “‘Euphoria’ is the buzz show amongst younger people, amongst people who were sort of hyper-online, amongst critics; it was something that was really talked about. That’s the thing that sort of raises it up.”

Why production stalled

While the dual Hollywood strikes were one factor in the delay in production, “Euphoria” was also affected by the sudden deaths of actor Angus Cloud, who played Fezco, and executive producer Kevin Turen, who was considered a key force in the show. There were reports of creative tension between Zendaya and Levinson. At the same time, its young cast had transformed into a roster of in-demand movie stars, with schedules and expectations that look very different from when the show began.

“This new season has to kind of do something new and really break new ground to gain the buzz,” Mittell said. “There is a scenario, depending on how they market it, that it actually could get pretty good viewership. But I think that it’s also just ripe for disappointment. Can you just imagine all the takes that are being written right now? Like, ‘Why “Euphoria” shouldn’t have come back.’ There’s so many people eager to write that.”

And yet, the show’s scale and the fame of the people in it may insulate it from outright failure. “Jacob Elordi, Sydney Sweeney — these are some of the biggest actors on the planet now,” Ghanem said. “Even if the show ends up being a creative flop, I think we’re all going to tune in because we want to see those actors together again and see what storyline Sam Levinson will come up with. There’s no possible world where this third season isn’t a massive hit. There’s just no way.”

Angus Cloud, who played Fezco in “Euphoria,” died in 2023 after an overdose. (Evan Agostini / Invision / AP)

“Euphoria” executive producer Kevin Turen also died in 2023. (Jack Plunkett / Invision / Associated Press)

What has shifted more dramatically is how the show and its creator are perceived, experts and fans said. Since “Euphoria” first aired in 2019, Levinson’s profile has evolved, particularly following the backlash to his HBO series “The Idol,” which was widely panned by critics and plagued by reports of behind-the-scenes turmoil. That scrutiny has extended back to “Euphoria,” with renewed criticism around its portrayal of sex, nudity and teenage characters.

“Since 2019, when the first season aired, there have been a lot of conversations around what Gen Z really wants to see on screen,” Ghanem said. “The show’s reputation isn’t unscathed. And I think people are more critical of Sam Levinson’s work.”

That shift may be especially pronounced among younger viewers, who may have been turned off by “The Idol’s” gratuitousness.

“We’ve had all of these recent studies about younger people who don’t necessarily want to see sexually explicit material anymore,” said Brandy Monk-Payton, assistant professor at Fordham University. “They want to see more development of platonic relationships and asexual connections.”

Can a time gap still lead to success?

Long breaks aren’t unheard of on TV, but they’re rarely this long for a show that’s still trying to hold on to cultural urgency. And history suggests that returning is one thing, but recapturing the same intensity of viewership and fandom is another.

Several recent dramas have tested that gap. “Stranger Things” stretched years between seasons as its young cast aged into adulthood, returning to massive viewership, but, some critics and fans argued, with an ending that felt obligatory.

“They weren’t reckless enough with their characters,” McCrary said.

“The Handmaid’s Tale,” once a defining show of the late 2010s, continued after extended pauses but struggled to maintain the cultural grip it once held.

“I think because of the social and political climate of that show, the interest in it waned,” Monk-Payton said. “We didn’t want to be in the world of Gilead anymore. So do fans want to reenter the world that is ‘Euphoria,’ that sensational world of drug addiction and sex and violence?”

Even “Severance,” which earned critical acclaim and awards recognition after its long-awaited second season, sparked debate among viewers about whether it matched the precision and novelty of its first. The pattern, experts say, is less about whether the audience comes back and more about what they come back expecting.

For Monk-Payton, that expectation functions almost like an unwritten agreement between a show and its viewers.

“It has to retain its contract with the audience,” she said, pointing to the balance between continuity and change. “There has to be some kind of familiarity in the characters and relationships, but also growth — something new that justifies coming back.”

That balance, she argues, is where many returning shows falter. Monk-Payton said in the case of “Severance,” what began as a sharply observed workplace sci-fi story expanded into denser mythology in its second season. Though Apple TV announced that “Severance” had become its No. 1 series, she said the show’s evolution didn’t land the same way for all viewers.

“When shows come back after a gap, they can misread what audiences connected to in the first place,” she said.

The risk for “Euphoria” is similar. If its return leans too far away from the emotional core that defined it, or reshapes its characters beyond recognition, it could strain the connection.

“If we don’t recognize Rue or the others in some fundamental way, that’s risky,” Monk-Payton said. “Some viewers will keep watching to see how it ends because they’re completionists. But others may feel that disconnect.”

Unruly salt-and-pepper hair in a long quaff, round glasses and broad smile give James Ortiz the look of a whimsical inventor, the kind that hides away in his workshop crafting extraordinary artifacts.

That description is essentially true; as a puppet designer and puppeteer, his job entails figuring out how to materialize figments of the imagination.

“I love playing characters that are so unbelievable that they have to exist in a different way,” says Ortiz on a video call from New York. “I love over-the-top characters and creatures.”

For more than 15 years, Ortiz has created puppets for theater projects in New York City, including those for “Into the Woods” on Broadway. His skill set has now made its way to the big screen with the box-office hit “Project Hail Mary,” an adaptation of Andy Weir’s 2021 sci-fi novel.

The space dramedy follows scientist Ryland Grace (played in the film by Ryan Gosling) who, against his will, is alone on a mission to save Earth with no return plan.

Ortiz, 42, plays Rocky, an arachnoid alien made of stone-like material, who befriends Grace. As the main puppeteer on set, Ortiz was in charge of moving its face or central carapace — and he also voices him.

Rocky and Grace don’t speak the same language. But when Grace figures out how to use his computer to translate Rocky’s sounds into English, the voice we hear coming from his jerry-rigged laptops is Ortiz’s.

Ryan Gosling in the movie “Project Hail Mary.”

(Jonathan Olley / Amazon MGM Studios)

“We had anywhere between three to six puppeteers on set with me. I would always be on the body, and they would always do the other limbs or legs,” Ortiz explains. “I needed to lead the thoughts and the dialogue and the feelings that Rocky was having.”

Thanks to both Gosling’s tongue-in-cheek charisma — as well as the curious and utterly sincere personality that Ortiz imbues into Rocky through his voice performance and intuitive puppeteering (with plenty of improvisation) — the movie becomes a disarming interstellar, interspecies bromance.

“I was always playing Rocky like the universe’s little brother,” Ortiz adds. “There was a little bit of a childlike thing that was being put in there.”

Over the years, Ortiz had developed a relationship with casting director Jeanne McCarthy, who often invited him to audition for acting jobs. Ortiz is a trained actor and has occasionally appeared on camera as himself, sans puppets. But every time McCarthy would reach out, he had a theater commitment. The timing finally worked when McCarthy mentioned she had an opportunity for Ortiz as a puppeteer in “Project Hail Mary.”

“I wasn’t familiar with the book, but then when I mentioned it to two of my friends, they knew everything about it,” Ortiz says. He soon met with directors Chris Miller and Phil Lord and had an immediate connection. “They are so delightfully immature that I felt like they were my cousins,” he says. “They are such artistic geniuses, but so silly and playful.”

For a chemistry read with Gosling, with the film’s producers also present, Ortiz opted for using a version of Rocky he had made himself, which looked like Thing from “The Addams Family” built off a fancy glove, instead of the larger puppet the production had available. That his hand version of Rocky could climb onto Gosling, and interact with the actor more directly, allowed for an amusing rapport to develop instantly between them.

Puppetry, Ortiz says, is intricately technical. When bringing a puppet to life, he’s concerned with the placement of the rods used to move the characters’ body parts, and in this case, he’d have to pay attention to where the camera is and where he and his fellow puppeteers have to hide. Amid all those preoccupations for his physical performance, Ortiz also had to deliver his lines and be present in the moment, reacting to Gosling with spontaneity.

Puppeteer James Ortiz plays Rocky, the adorable alien in “Project Hail Mary.”

(Jonathan Olley / Amazon MGM Studios)

“I promised Ryan that between action and cut, all of [the technical elements] were going melt away,” Ortiz recalls. “I said, ‘I’m just going to be an improvising partner with you. I’m never going to let you think that Rocky isn’t real, because I want this relationship to feel as playful and as dynamic as possible.’”

The more intricate Rocky puppet that appears on screen was later designed by Neal Scanlan, a legendary special effects artist, at the Creature Shop in London. Ortiz admits it was an adjustment to work with a puppet he didn’t design himself. Fortunately, Scanlan’s openness to involve him in the fabrication process made for a fulfilling experience.

“I had ultimately a lot of input, never on how Rocky looked, but a lot on how he was operated and what materials he was made out of,” Ortiz says. “I was able to pick what types of fiberglass we were using to cast him out of, because I knew, given the amount of improvisation that we would be doing on set, [that] I needed a puppet that could do anything.”

It’s not common for a puppeteer to voice the character they are manipulating. “It doesn’t usually happen because moviemaking is a business and you have to have names and sell it,” Ortiz says. Yet, as the post-production process advanced, and Lord and Miller started testing the film with audiences, Ortiz’s lines from set became the preferred Rocky voice.

Knowing that Rocky’s voice would come from Grace’s unsophisticated computer setup, Ortiz gathered inspirations, at times subconsciously, from a variety of robotic sources. These included Tik-Tok, a robot in 1985’s “Return to Oz,” one of his favorite movies.

“I have always valued my lifelessness,” Ortiz says in a hilariously monotone voice, quoting Tik-Tok. And there’s also a bit of the robot bartender from the futuristic world of “The Fifth Element” — “you want some more?” he says, making an impression.

Ortiz believes puppetry found him by accident. The youngest of three children, he grew up in Richardson, Texas, a suburb of Dallas, with a mother of Italian descent and a Puerto Rican-born father who met in 1970s New York.

“Interestingly enough, when I was growing up, there was a touring marionette theater of Richardson that was one of the first places that excited me towards puppets,” Ortiz recalls.

An introverted child, Ortiz grew up enjoying painting and handcrafts, as well as having an interest in engineering and how things are built. “My father was always in the garage building something,” he recalls. “We’re not talking like building a spaceship but building little simple machines.”

On multiple fronts, his dad has served as a source of inspiration. “My father was born in Puerto Rico and moved when he was about 4 or 5 to Brooklyn in the early 1950s,” Ortiz explains. “He was his mother’s translator. She didn’t speak any English at all. I have such admiration for him, because he was learning English in real time in school and helping his mother get through the day. It’s a powerful part of my narrative and something I’m really proud of.”

For Ortiz, this part of his heritage, his father and grandmother struggling to communicate with the world around them in a new city, connects with “Project Hail Mary.” He adds: “What I love is that there’s a little bit of that in Rocky, because so much of this story is about someone struggling to be understood and then ultimately being understood.”

Ryan Gosling stars as biologist-turned-schoolteacher-turned-astronaut Ryland Grace and Sandra Huller as mission leader Eva Stratt in “Project Hail Mary.”

(Jonathan Olley / Amazon MGM Studios)

In middle school, Ortiz enrolled in theater classes. Soon after, making marionettes entered the picture. “I discovered puppetry around the same time, because it’s sort of the center of that Venn diagram of crafts, fine arts, engineering and acting,” he says. For undergrad he attended Purchase College in New York to study acting in a classical program. After graduating, however, the phone wasn’t ringing with professional opportunities.

Ortiz’s first job out of school was working on Venezuelan-born theater director and filmmaker Moisés Kaufman’s 2010 production of Xavier Montsalvatge’s Spanish-language opera, “El gato con botas.” It was his self-taught talent with puppets that landed him the gig.

“I’m grateful that I’ve been able to have a pretty long career. I’ve been doing everything. There was one year on Broadway [when] I was doing all the special effects makeup; [another] I was doing set design.”

Puppetry, it turned out, moved from a supplementary expertise to Ortiz’s prime artistic strength. “I’ve worn so many different hats and what was interesting is that puppetry kept being the thing that invited all of me to work, as opposed to just a part of me,” he adds.

Since those early days, Ortiz has designed puppets for “The Woodsman,” which he also wrote, directed and starred in; “Disney’s Hercules” (for productions at Public Theater in New York and in Hamburg, Germany), and more recently for Lileana Blain-Cruz’s production of “El Niño” at the Metropolitan Opera.

Now that “Project Hail Mary” has launched the possibility of a fruitful Hollywood career, Ortiz’s only aim is to continue letting his abilities lead the way without inflexible expectations.

“I’m not a very calculated career person. I’m running towards bliss and then seeing what happens,” he says, smiling and running his hands through his imposing hair.

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.

Bond can wait.

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

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.

READ MORE: Emmerdale Tracy’s secret exposed as Vanessa confronts her ahead of exitREAD MORE: EastEnders ‘reveals’ who will join Mark’s stolen cars scheme – but it’s not Lauren

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?

Coronation Street airs weeknights at 8:30pm on ITV1 and ITV X. * Follow Mirror Celebs and TV on TikTok , Snapchat , Instagram , Twitter , Facebook , YouTube and Threads .

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

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.

READ MORE: EastEnders fans ‘work out who Jasmine killed before Anthony’READ MORE: Emmerdale fans ‘rumble’ what Tracy’s hiding as past character’s return ‘sealed’

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.

Emmerdale airs weeknights at 8pm on ITV1 and ITVX. * Follow Mirror Celebs and TV on TikTok , Snapchat , Instagram , Twitter , Facebook , YouTube and Threads .

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.

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.

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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.

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.”
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“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.’”