character

For all their vaunted power, superheroes are at the mercy of the people who write them, draw them, play them on the screen, and by extension the producers and executives who decide what should go where and for how much. Sort of powerless, really.

Sometimes this combination of forces works out well for the hero, and sometimes not so much. The Green Lantern, a secondary figure in the DC Comics pantheon, had the ill luck to be trapped in a 2011 Ryan Reynolds film even its director didn’t like. Fifteen years later, he has had the very good fortune to be played by Kyle Chandler, and additionally to star in a television series — “Lanterns,” premiering Sunday on HBO — rather than a theatrical feature, with its investment in noisy set pieces and earth-shaking battles royale.

I’ve often championed the supposedly humbler medium as the best place to tell these stories, with the time to investigate character, in all its shadings and ambiguities, and a haven for concepts too quirky or niche or … conceptual for conservative big-budget theatrical IP exploitation. And here again, I have been proved right.

Creators Damon Lindelof (“Lost,” “Watchmen” and, best of all, “Mrs. Davis”), comic book writer Tom King and Chris Mundy, who wrote for “Criminal Minds,” “Ozark” and “Bloodline” (in which Chandler starred), have expressly looked to television for inspiration — specifically to “True Detective” (on which Mundy worked), with its uncomfortable partnerships, and “Slow Horses” (for its disreputable hero, I guess), with “Slow Horses” director James Hawes helming the first two episodes. (I detect a hint of “Fargo” as well, for its Midwestern plainscape, dark comedy and bigger-than-life yet somehow ordinary characters.)

“I’m a regular person, like you,” Hal Jordan (Chandler) says in a 1996 TV interview that opens the series; indeed, he’s only super powerful by reason of the gear that comes with the job, a human “beat cop” working as part of the Green Lantern Corps, an extraterrestrial galactic peacekeeping organization — the special ring and the lantern-shaped gizmo that charges it. It gives him the ability to fly and to manifest objects at will, most often a protective green bubble, but also a bottle opener and a $10 bill. (There’s a uniform, but for the most part, he leaves it in the closet.)

Watching that interview is young John Stewart (then a Lantern-obsessed child). We’ll meet him again in 2016, played by Aaron Pierre (“The Underground Railroad”), when most of the action takes place, as a former Marine sniper and art student — human talents that will prove useful — assigned to Hal as a “trainee,” ostensibly to provide backup if something happens to him. Hal, after two seemingly successful decades in the job, is unused to the company and suspicious of the arrangement. (“The big blue bosses may think you’re hot s— but you’re just a f—ing substitute teacher.”) He sets John tests that might kill him, if he is not actually trying to kill him. But he’s also the more genial of the two.

Through an agent whose identity the producers are counting as a spoiler — I’m sure I don’t know why — Hal receives a message that there’s hail in Rushville, Neb. (i.e., aliens!), at which point he jets off from the taco stand where he’s happily been signing autographs and posing for selfies, leaving John to fly there on his own, in the usual way, while the Stooges’ “No Fun” plays on the soundtrack.

They arrive, separately, in the aftermath of a high school football game that has left dead bodies on the field. (Hal suspects some sort of alien rumble.) Here we meet Kelly Macdonald, suppressing her Scottish accent as tough but tender Sheriff Kerry, asserting her jurisdictional rights. Hal finds her “something incredible.” (John: “I think she hates your guts.” Hal: “Yeah, but it’s the way she hates them.”) Kerry is married to lawyer Billy Macon (Jason Ritter), whose father, William (Garret Dillahunt), is a local bigwig, with a cowboy militia and a wife, Zoe (Poorna Jagannathan), who possibly not coincidentally meets John in a bar.

At 60, Chandler is arguably more attractive than ever, with the sort of seasoning that served James Garner so well as Jim Rockford, TV’s greatest detective. Five seasons of “Friday Night Lights” have cemented him in the popular consciousness as a preternaturally decent guy, which allows us to excuse Hal’s less creditable moments, or at least to see things through his eyes. Pierre, 32, who competes in Brazilian jiu-jitsu, has the body of a superhero; he plays John wound tight, humorless, grimly ambitious — he grew up letting his father shoot apples off his head to prove his fearlessness, the primary requirement for a Green Lantern — though the character warms up across the course of the season (which also takes place in 2026). The actors are at their best in their scenes together, which the writers make happen even when it seems impossible. (Spoilers, or I’d explain.)

Combining detective work and science fiction is nothing new — see “Sugar,” currently; “The X-Files,” classically. (And there’s an interrogation scene I’m pretty sure nods knowingly to “Blade Runner.”) “Lanterns” isn’t totally free of cliches, which is practically impossible for sci-fi and crime stories anyway, so many have been told over the years, and to some degree that’s just what we come for. But the series is fresh enough in its details and execution, and strong enough in its writing, and so well performed, that it feels quite original.

I watched “Lanterns” without any particular knowledge of the character, who has been around since 1940, and in this particular version since 1959. (I did a little reading afterward.) Happily, the show is not up to its cowl in DC cross-references and crossovers. There are fleeting mentions of Gotham and Metropolis (where Superman works) and Nathan Fillion reprises his bad-hair Green Lantern from the 2025 “Superman” movie (a long story), but “Lanterns” comes equipped with everything you need to know. Bringing in extra mythology wouldn’t make the confusing parts any less confusing, and would just confuse the parts that aren’t confusing at all. Most every character, whichever side they’re on — and it’s not always easy to tell, given that the aliens look exactly like the humans — comes with layers.

Did I ever fully understand what these factions were after, or even what exactly the factions were? Nope. Did it matter? Nope.

“The Wrong Girls” is the right comedy if you want to unplug your brain and laugh. The first punchline doesn’t even have words. It’s just two stoner roommates, Frankie (Kristen Stewart) and Molly (Alia Shawkat), ripping a mega-hit and coughing at each other. Finally, they speak in unison: “Jinx.”

Frankie, a Stanford dropout, engineered the living room’s impressive “bong-a-tron.” Molly, a wannabe chef, bakes brownies spiked with pot and blue cheese. (We’re assured they‘re delicious.) These screw-ups share everything: a taste in thrift store cat paintings, a chillaxed attitude toward overdue bills and a comfy inertia that’s kept them both stunted, frustrating Molly’s boyfriend Josh (a likable Zack Fox). In turn, possessive Frankie thinks Josh is a buzzkill.

Soon, the insular twosome will share a mind, too, thanks to a telepathic drug they ingest like idiots, not that they have any gray matter to spare. That’s not entirely fair. The friends aren’t dumb; they’ve just been baked for so long that acting dumb is a habit. (Don’t worry, writer-director Dylan Meyer won’t force them to sober up.)

The plot is confidently stupid. A criminal courier (LaKeith Stanfield) mistakes Frankie for her more successful doppelganger Francis (also played by Stewart), saddling her with a briefcase that a trio of dangerous Danes are determined to steal back. Thus, our heroes must peel themselves off from the couch and go on the run with their resentful felines Dio and GG bouncing along in backpacks.

Voiced by Seth Rogen and Kumail Nanjiani, the pets have opinions their owners don’t want to hear. “I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who gave us fleas,” GG sneers. I like those comics and live with two annoying Maine Coons. Nevertheless, these cats are too chatty.

Meyer is a screenwriter-turned-filmmaker who met Stewart on the set of the underseen 2015 comic thriller “American Ultra.” In the years since, she has also become Stewart’s wife. That’s important only because “Wrong Girls” has the pinpoint silliness of soulmates who spend a lot of time goofing around at home. Meyer wrote the script a decade ago about her friendship with producer Maggie McLean, but no doubt she knows better than anyone how much the smart and sensible-projecting Stewart delights in acting the fool.

The jokes are as flawlessly tailored to Stewart as Chanel couture, be they zany schemes, spacey freak-outs or the sly middle finger Stewart flashes with her 818-tattooed knuckles while her character suffers a jerk (Tony Hale). And they custom-fit Shawkat’s mellower Molly, who trots behind in Frankie’s wake of destruction. The sci-fi twist in the script turns their relationship into a send-up of co-dependence. Their insular bond can’t last forever — can it?

Meyer subverts a couple tropes, embraces others. Comedy capers like this usually deflate in the third act when their pleasures get punctured by unfunny gunfire. The movie sees that trap coming and dodges it by the skin of its teeth. Nimbly, it manages to be both a pacifist film and a subversive one with no faith in the system as it stands. Characters deliver jabs at “Jeff Bozos” and the Epstein class while slyly revealing you shouldn’t trust their takes, either. Frankie invents a new nonsensical insult, calling Molly’s boyfriend Josh “such a customer.” Sure, whatever that means!

“The Wrong Girls” shares its own hive mind with David Wain’s also-good “Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass,” released earlier this summer. Both are star-studded, hyper-L.A. chase comedies that treat their central contrivances as nothing more than scaffolding for the scenes that actually count. Who cares what happens to the Danes’ precious briefcase? We just want to see Frankie and Molly melt down upon learning that their favorite all-you-can-eat lunch spot is closing due to uncertainty in the buffet sector (a eulogy for the real-life Souplantation, whose absence remains deeply felt).

Even within the tenuous reality of the movie, Frankie and Molly aren’t focused on saving their own necks, especially after their clairvoyant powers kick in and the friends realize they can communicate with closed mouths. As lab-coated figures played by Kate McKinnon and Geena Davis attempt to deliver exposition, the pals drown them out chit-chatting about drivel. The stars know it takes skill to act dumb. Christina Applegate described it best: About her portrayal of hair metal bimbo Kelly Bundy in “Married … with Children,” Applegate said, “In her own mind, she’s a genius.”

The film is just wonky enough to wonder if some beats got chopped out of it, like a go-nowhere running joke about how Hale’s front door won’t close or an aside about how Stewart’s Frankie once Jerry-rigged an escape parachute, which cinematographer Todd Banhazl seems to be reminding us of when he lingers on a shot of an awkward shindig’s helium décor. Banhazl does pull off one of the few inventive psychedelic sequences I’ve seen in a while. (To see another, go stream the giddy new campus comedy “Pizza Movie.”)

Or maybe “The Wrong Girls” is simply making an artistic statement about the joy of sloppiness. Here, to be chaotic and colorful is a badge of honor. Just compare the girls’ cluttered digs with their pursuers’ sterile white suits. In that same spirit of excess, there’s an extra scene in the end credits that goes over like a lead balloon. No one in my theater chuckled. But I respected it anyway for insisting on these jokers’ right to remain an unapologetic mess.

Jessica Williams always goes to bed laughing.

“Everything’s so sad,” the actor explains. “Not taking yourself seriously is the only way, because otherwise I would just be upset, especially as a Black woman in the year 2026. I hate when people are on ‘The Bachelor’ and they’re like, ‘I love laughing,’ but it’s true. I really love it.”

Williams, 37, knows a thing or two about making others laugh. A three-time Emmy nominee for supporting actress in a comedy series for her work on “Shrinking,” she’s made an art of it. On a show about grief and mental health, Williams is often on hand to bring the funny.

Curled up in a chair on the top floor of The Times’ offices in El Segundo, looking down on the runways of LAX boiling in the late July sun, Williams gives runway fierceness against the beige office walls. She is just like the pop of bubblegum pink polish on her toenails as she strikes a pose in a chic all-black linen ensemble — a delightful burst of cheer in a subdued environment, something effervescent amid so much inoffensive sameness. She’s always been that way.

I would know; I’ve known her since we were 12 years old, awkward adolescents in Marcia Barryte’s Dodson Middle School drama class. As we catch up, I remind her of a PG-13 scene she caused in eighth grade science class during an earthquake drill. (To be fair, the drama students were asked to play standardized patients, and she was assigned “hysteria.”) While the class collected our backpacks, she broke into an award-worthy performance, wailing about not wanting to die a virgin.

“No!” she gasps, covering her mouth but unable to hide the mischievous grin that’s broken across her face at the memory. “That’s very inappropriate. I love that.”

Under slightly different circumstances, it’s a storyline that could belong to her “Shrinking” character, Gaby Evans, a therapist who brings her sunny demeanor, audacious sense of humor and enviable stores of energy into every room. That’s partly because so much of who Gaby is has been carefully honed by the writers and Williams to align with the actor’s voice.

“We can write almost anything and Jessica can make it sound like it has stemmed from Gaby,” says series co-creator Bill Lawrence. “She’s in charge of Gaby’s voice — and it’s a tremendous safety net for us as a writing staff.”

Jessica Williams in “Shrinking.”

(Apple TV)

Williams agrees this has been her experience, one she’s grateful for in an industry often dead set on ignoring perspectives like hers. “At the end of the day, white guys are in charge of this business,” she says. “Progress in film and TV requires them to go to bat for us. I feel really lucky to be on a show where Bill pulled me aside and was like, ‘If I’m doing my job right, the first couple episodes, we write these stories, and then, there’s a moment where it switches to being your character and you are the shepherd of her.’ It made it really collaborative and a safe space for me to play.”

Three seasons in, the set has become the world’s best playground. For instance, the writers gave Williams ample runway in a scene where Gaby turns the tables and proposes to her boyfriend, Derek (Damon Wayans Jr.), after discovering an engagement ring in a desk drawer (and getting it stuck on her finger). “Look, if you’re a television writer and you have a proposal scene and you don’t let Jessica Williams run with it, you’re cheating yourself,” quips Lawrence.

That mutual trust doesn’t mean that Gaby and Williams are the same person — just that Williams’ lived experience has shaped who Gaby is. “The point of a scene is we don’t know what it’s going to be,” she says. “We learned our lines. We’re going to show up. The director’s here. They have an idea. We’re going to make this thing together. We’re going to ‘Yes, and?’ until we get the scene up.”

Her ability to take the ball and run with it is what caught Lawrence’s eye in the first place, discovering Williams as a correspondent on “The Daily Show.” “She works very hard at making it seem like it’s off the cuff,” he emphasizes. “She is quick to call the writing staff with questions and is always looking to improve things. That’s not always the truth with everybody. She works her ass off.”

Jessica Williams. (Ryan Pfluger / For The Times)

That work ethic was essential for her Season 3 arc, which found Williams facing some of the toughest acting challenges of her career. Gaby bonds with a new, albeit reluctant, patient, Maya (Sherry Cola), only to be devastated when Maya takes her own life. It’s the heaviest storyline of the season — and a heartbreaking look at the realities of suicide, loss and trauma in the lives of mental health professionals.

One of the show’s consultants had experienced a similar loss, and their insights helped the writing staff find dramatic resonance. For Williams, it was a chance to showcase what she always believed she was capable of. “For women, people of color, queer people, any minorities, we just want the opportunity to show what we can do,” Williams says. “I was rubbing my hands together. Like, ‘F— yeah. Let’s go.’ But I was also really nervous. Sometimes when I get scenes that are a bit more difficult, I wake up and I wonder if I can do it. Every single time it’s proving to myself that I can. It felt like I didn’t get to rest last season in a way that was really nice. Most times I feel like I’m just goofing, but that felt like, ‘Oh, I’m an actor.’”

That’s an inevitable side effect of appearing on a Bill Lawrence show. His blend of humor and pathos demands a high-wire act from his ensembles. “With Bill, you have to have the acting chops to be able to do the drama, but then be able to turn a joke very quickly,” says Christa Miller, who’s been married to Lawrence since 1999 and played major roles on “Scrubs” and “Cougar Town” before “Shrinking,” in which she stars as Liz. “You really have to be able to do it on a dime.”

Lawrence clocked early on that Williams had the chops to hold her own against heavyweights like Harrison Ford. “We knew comedically she would crush it. The only question mark was about who she was as an actress,” says Lawrence. “But she was great from the second she set foot onstage. It would’ve been a massive mistake not to let her showcase that stuff.”

The storyline also pushed Williams to reopen an old wound. In 2019, she lost her longtime boyfriend to a heroin overdose. “He had a therapist who had come recommended from my therapist,” she says. “I don’t remember that time that much because it was so intense and traumatic. I do remember my therapist was helping me work through it, but she was also like, ‘I’d like to check in with his therapist and see how he’s doing.’ That was the first place I went when they told me about that storyline. It was a good opportunity to work through that a little bit.”

Even though her grief was readily accessible, it also churned up emotions that Williams often tries to quiet. “There’s always something when someone dies, whether it’s suicide or an accident, where you feel guilt,” she reflects. “‘What could I have done?’ It was something that I’ve processed and am still processing, and it was easy to transfer that into Season 3. Grief is so ongoing. It’s a wound that I have forever, and I would give anything to not have it. But now I have it, and I live with it. It’s like an old friend.”

Williams describes the days filming those scenes as different for her, harder to shake. Driving home from the set in Burbank, she’d often take side streets back to her house in Eagle Rock, getting lost in music and her environment. “It felt like trying to shed it,” she explains. “I really felt it. But so many people responded to it in a way that was what I wanted. It’s such an intimate thing, this job, and to be able to portray something [that resonates], that’s the whole point.”

One emotion the work generated that she wasn’t expecting? Embarrassment. “I’m usually not embarrassed doing comedy,” she says. “I’m like, ‘There’s no rules. We can try anything.’ It doesn’t feel as vulnerable, whereas acting, there’s something fundamentally so indulgent about it.”

It’s a surprising admission; though I haven’t spent substantial time with Williams in years, she always seemed fearless to me. Willing to do whatever it took to get a laugh. It’s why our drama teacher invented an entirely new role for her in our spring musical, to showcase her generational comedic talent.

Williams agrees she was a cutup in class, but she never got the chance to do any capital-A acting in middle school. “I would get a part, and then I wouldn’t be able to do it,” she recounts. “Mrs. Barryte would have to call my parents and be like, ‘She did not do her homework. She has bad grades. She can’t do the play.’ I let people down. I remember feeling really sad about it.

“That taught me I’m a part of a team,” she reflects. “I have to be professional. I have to be ready. But I’m glad I don’t have to do my math homework to be able to perform. Public school’s tough — you had to be an awkward Black girl and get good grades to do the musical.”

That all changed when Williams found improv, joining the ComedySportz team at Harbor City’s Narbonne High (she continued on the college team while she was a student at Cal State Long Beach). “I cared about improv so much that I wasn’t not going to do my homework,” she says. “It just affected my life profoundly. I’m getting misty thinking about these programs that are underfunded, that s— really matters.”

Williams has also found reassurance in the response to her character. “She makes me more confident,” she admits. “Just seeing the response to Gaby. A lot of that is amazing writing, directing and an amazing crew, but it’s also my instincts.”

“The first time I was like, ‘Whoa, what the f—?’” she says of her three Emmy nominations for the role. “Second time, it was like, ‘OK, it wasn’t a fluke.’ And then the third time you’re like, ‘Oh s—!’ All the actresses that I admire are in this category, so I’m honored. But these are my peers too. So it’s like, ‘Oh, they see me.’ Gaby means something to people, it feels like — and that’s really nice. It encourages me to keep going.”

As for what that future will hold, besides at least one more season of “Shrinking,” Williams is hungry to do a play on Broadway, having not done theater since high school. Somewhere in there she’d like to capitalize on her tendency to play erudite characters and embody a detective in a thriller (preferably a paranormal one like her childhood faves “So Weird” and “The X-Files”).

Mostly, though, she just wants to keep doing what she’s been striving for since we were kids — “I want, when you watch me, for you to feel like you’ve seen something magic happen.”

Well, abracadabra.

“Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is a witty, gory slasher-romance that feels so personal to writer-director Jane Schoenbrun that they’ve essentially sliced out their soul and smeared it on the screen.

“Hacks’” Hannah Einbinder plays a rising director named Kris, a Sundance darling and Schoenbrun avatar of sorts who wants to convince a long-forgotten scream queen named Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson) to star in her next movie. It’s a resurrection of the fictitious “Camp Miasma” franchise, a hack-’em-up about hormonal camp counselors slaughtered by a gender-bending, spear-wielding killer called Little Death, who has an air-conditioning vent for a face. (The reason why sort of makes sense when you see his lair.) Billy played the final girl in the 1983 original film, then disappeared. And so Kris heads out to Billy’s snowbound hideaway — which just so happens to be where the movie was shot.

Young Billy (a riveting Amanda Fix) imprinted on Kris in a way she can’t articulate. Smoking weed with the real woman will hopefully help. Anderson’s Billy steps out of the shadows with a full face of femme fatale makeup and a syrupy Dolly Parton drawl, promptly serving Kris enough fried chicken to feed a bobsled team. Has Anderson ever had more fun onscreen? Her performance presents as camp, but her dynamic range of loud cackles and quiet glances is fabulous.

Acting in a film within a film, Fix’s version of teenage Billy is so nervous it seems impossible she’ll become Anderson’s diva. You can practically hear the girl’s heart beating so loud that it breaks your own. The two Billys almost snatch the movie from under its lead. But then toward the climax, Einbinder has a powerful close-up that puts the film back in her pocket. (Metaphorically, that is — by then, her character isn’t wearing any pants.)

Kris’ breakout movie was a high-concept inversion of “Psycho” told through the shower curtain’s POV. Yet she’s well aware that the studio hired her to rescue the “Camp Miasma” franchise not for her genius but because she’s queer and the internet has deemed Little Death “problematic.” The satirical scenes of Kris’ agent (Sarah Sherman) getting annoyed that her client can’t pitch a four-quadrant movie are hilarious while also ringing of truth.

Likewise, Schoenbrun specializes in zeitgeisty fables about 21st century isolation. Their own debut, the 2021 micro-budget internet thriller “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair,” was simultaneously mesmerizing and tedious, a mental breakdown that burrowed so deeply inside its own world that several COVID-era high schoolers I know felt like it had been made just for them.

A strange thing about Schoenbrun is that even when I haven’t liked their work, I’ve left the theater certain that I just watched what will be someone else’s favorite film of all time. (The affectless disassociation of 2024’s “I Saw the TV Glow” drove me bonkers.) Yet “Camp Miasma” finds Schoenbrun bravely opening up and getting vulnerable. It’s not just a lament about loneliness; it’s a challenge to change your perspective and maybe your life.

I suspect Schoenbrun could deliver a five-hour TED Talk on the pop cultural kitsch of “Friday the 13th’s” Jason Voorhees. They’re so fluent in how Hollywood squeezes the fun out of a franchise that they can convey “Camp Miasma’s” descent into schlock in a sprightly opening montage that sees Little Death become a trading card, a bobblehead, an 8-bit video game, an anti-drug spokesman and a novelty rapper. Over 13 sequels, the character’s trail of nubile corpses stretches from Manhattan to Mars to Quibi.

Kris pops in a disc of “Camp Miasma’s” tawdry 2008 reboot, which cinematographer Eric Yue makes look as flat as the discounted DVD. As that movie’s disposable bimbo strips off her top, the score cranks up a porno-chic song and Kris scribbles the word “desire” in her notebook in all caps. But the contrast between that sham seduction footage and a 35mm reel of the original “Camp Miasma” is like night and day — or rather, trash and art. Kris and Billy watch that one together in an intimate sleepover, sinking into the murky texture of a scene in which the virginal actor allowed a jerk to take off her clothes.

Schoenbrun loves the movie-ness of movies. You can see their devotion in outdoor backdrops that are deliriously false, in sight gags that reference Cronenberg and Carpenter or in production design that includes the perfect nostalgic ’90s video store carpet. Inside Billy’s private movie theater, the projector beams down on the back of Anderson’s head like that infamous Nicole Kidman AMC promo. Maybe I’m loopy, but I’d even swear the entrance to Billy’s screening room has a handmade mural of the Roku City screensaver. Watch for clues when the storyline we’re watching becomes its own nested narrative.

Horror fans waiting for jump scares will be thwarted. At least there are several sequences of macabre murder-comedy with blood geysers shooting up to the sky and a tracking shot through a killing spree that’s a riot. The soundtrack sets a more accurate tone right away with a gentle cover of R.E.M.’s “Nightswimming” that segues into Alex G’s dreamy synths. Yet Schoenbrun’s needle drops also seem to have been chosen to make the audience chuckle. A massacre set to the Counting Crows’ piano-and-accordion ballad “A Long December” is bizarre. (The only excuse I can think of is that Little Death hibernates at the bottom of a frozen lake?)

It feels like a magic trick when the film finally reveals where it’s going. “Teenage Sex and Death” is about climbing out of your head, admitting what you want and allowing yourself to enjoy it. Sexually, yes — that’s right in the title — and creatively, too, as Schoenbrun wants us to keep loving movies that make us squirm.

Lately, it’s been hard to talk about difficult art, with culture warriors deeming entire filmographies unworthy of enjoyment. People have gotten so used to preemptively apologizing for what they like that their mea culpas feel as reflexive as a sneeze. But Schoenbrun sticks up for the right to forgive a movie’s flaws. Here, when Kris anxiously whispers that a scene in the first “Camp Miasma” is transphobic, Billy gives her a shush.

We’ve all got our kinks, including ones for canceled flicks. (I still adore “Revenge of the Nerds” despite its god-awful rape joke.) Kris can intellectualize her “Camp Miasma” fandom all she wants. But Billy counters that the appeal of “Camp Miasma” is simple: “It’s flesh and fluids,” she says. And since she’s still living in it, we believe her.

Marvel’s new X-Men team appears to be coming together.

“Heartstopper” star Kit Connor is reportedly Marvel Studios’ pick to play Scott Summers, the mutant hero also known as Cyclops, in its upcoming “X-Men” reboot. According to Deadline, the film’s director, Jake Schreier, and Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige had met with a number of candidates before landing on the British actor.

Marvel did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

Created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, Cyclops is one of the leaders and founding members of the X-Men. He needs to wear special eyewear — usually goggles or glasses — to control the beams of energy that blast from his eyes. The character was previously portrayed by James Marsden in Fox’s original “X-Men” film trilogy (2000, 2003, 2006) as well as in the 2014 crossover “X-Men: Days of Future Past.” Tye Sheridan played a younger version of the character in “X-Men: Apocalypse” (2016) and “Dark Phoenix” (2019).

Marsden is among the original “X-Men” actors set to reprise their roles in the upcoming “Avengers: Doomsday.”

Connor’s casting follows recent reports that Samara Weaving has landed the role of Emma Frost in the upcoming “X-Men” film. Created by Chris Claremont and John Byrne for the comics, the mutant-villain-turned-hero is a powerful telepath also known as the White Queen. The character has previously appeared onscreen in “X-Men: First Class” (2011) portrayed by January Jones.

With his “X-Men” casting, Connor would join his fellow “Heartstopper” and “Heartstopper Forever” star Joe Locke in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Locke made his franchise debut as William Kaplan, a.k.a. Billy Maximoff, in the 2024 Disney+ series “Agatha All Along.”

These latest “X-Men” developments follow the debut of the MCU’s new Jean Grey, portrayed by Sadie Sink in “Spider-Man: Brand New Day.” Although no official announcements have been made regarding Sink’s future Marvel projects, she is expected to appear in the “X-Men” reboot.

The “X-Men” reboot is expected to land some time after next year’s “Doomsday” follow-up, “Avengers: Secret Wars.” In 2024, Feige told Entertainment Weekly that “the whole story of ‘Secret Wars’ really leads us into a new age of mutants and of the X-Men.”

Rhea Seehorn possesses what Vince Gilligan calls “Jumbotron face.” As the creator of “Pluribus” and (with Peter Gould) “Better Call Saul,” Gilligan has relied on Seehorn’s ability to broadcast what her characters are thinking and feeling without saying much of anything. Gilligan loves silences and uses them in long stretches, allowing — or, perhaps more accurately, demanding — his audience to figure out what’s happening on their own.

And in Seehorn he found someone who, with a mere sidelong glance or knitted brow, can let you in on Gilligan’s secrets.

But Seehorn carries this ability wherever she goes, she tells me. People take a look at her and make assumptions. She’s 5 foot 4, lean and seems athletic, though she says she’s “the least athletic person that anybody knows.” That hasn’t stopped her from being cast as a golf instructor in the upcoming second season of the Owen Wilson comedy series “Stick” and a track and field coach in a movie she’s shooting right now called “Running.”

“I do not run,” she told the movie’s director, Gavin O’Connor. “I can tell people to run, but you don’t want to see me running.”

It’s not just work, though, where these deductions are made. Up until a few years ago, when people started recognizing her for playing poker-faced attorney Kim Wexler on “Better Call Saul,” Seehorn would be standing in a store and customers figured she worked there. Shopping at the Gap, she’d be asked if a T-shirt comes in medium. In Target, she’d be queried about where to find the Christmas decorations. Even on set, a background person would approach her, wondering if there’s any more plain bagels at craft service.

Why do you think this happens? I ask her. Because, even with her fame and her Golden Globe win for playing Carol, a sad woman forced to save the world from happiness and the hive mind in “Pluribus,” Seehorn, 54, says this still takes place on a regular basis.

“I’ve asked my friends, and apparently my daydreaming or thinking face looks focused,” she says. “I guess my interior monologue is highly interpretable to people, and if you’re standing in a store and you see somebody really thinking and thinking, they’re like, ‘She must be restocking the shelves.’ When in reality, I’m probably thinking about what I said wrong to somebody at a party in the ’80s.”

Rhea Seehorn as Carol Sturka in “Pluribus.”

(Apple TV)

Seehorn bursts out laughing, which she does often and with great gusto throughout our conversation. We’re at The Times, nine years after her last visit to our offices, which I know because she shows me a photo on her camera roll of her youngest stepson, McLain, taken when we were downtown and he was 9, young enough to still be thrilled about being in a “newspaper building.”

This prompts another take-your-kids-to-work memory.

“I brought him and Gray [the other stepson she shares with her partner of 12 years, real estate agent Graham Larson] to the set of ‘Better Call Saul’ when they were 7 and 9, and the thing they were most excited about was signing an NDA,” Seehorn says. “Everybody in the production office made a huge deal of it, pretending like they were spies, because I knew they’d think that was cool.”

Seehorn played Kim opposite Bob Odenkirk on “Better Call Saul” for six seasons, creating a character that evolved from a minor role to what Gilligan calls the “backbone of the series.” Dazzled by her versatility, Gilligan wrote “Pluribus” for Seehorn. But he didn’t want to tell her about it until he had a script and not just an outline. He asked “Saul” executive producer Melissa Bernstein to act as a spy and tell him if Seehorn was close to taking another job. One day, during the show’s final season, Bernstein told him he’d better pounce.

“I didn’t want to miss my opportunity,” Gilligan says over the phone. “That would have been a bummer. Rhea is the manager that makes the show work.”

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

Where Kim Wexler was a composed and poised overachiever, suppressing her emotions when things (as they often did) spiraled out of control, “Pluribus’” Carol Sturka lets it all hang out. She’s volatile and angry, drinking heavily to obliterate her regret and rage. The characters share a fierce drive to fight for what they believe is right, which, for Carol, means maintaining her autonomy and resisting the good-vibes group contentment of the Others. A hero has never been more reluctant than this curmudgeon.

Seehorn is the ultimate professional: pleasant, quick to credit her colleagues, a team player. So Carol’s bitter fury feels distinct from her friendly personality as well as anything we’ve ever seen her do onscreen. But it’s not entirely foreign. Talking about the “Pluribus” season finale, she said that while she’s never murdered anyone, she has felt out-of-control rage.

When did this happen?

“I’m not going to tell you that!” she answers, laughing.

I’m just trying to picture it, I tell her.

“I know, because a lot of people are like, ‘I’ve never seen you mad,’” Seehorn says. “I suppress. I suppress too much. That’s something I work on with my therapist. I used to scream and yell as a teenager. That’s how I fought. And I just decided in college one day — I think I had an out-of-body experience — that I don’t want to be this person. And it probably moved the needle too far the other way. Now, when I’m angry, often I withdraw and get very quiet. I say everything is fine and then I’m never speaking to you again.”

That could have made playing a highly reactive character like Carol therapeutic. Instead, it did a number on Seehorn’s body.

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

“Unlike Carol, I cry often when I’m extremely angry and in the middle of trying to tell someone how upset I am,” Seehorn says. “Like the anger disturbs my body so much that it makes me cry. No matter how much I tried to unplug from Carol, my body didn’t understand that I was pretending.”

We start talking about relationships and unhealthy withdrawal and letting things fester to the point that when the emotions come out, it feels abrupt and the other person has no idea what’s going on. And out of nowhere, Seehorn gives me a taste of Carol, growling the words, “Can you just get it?” with such ferocity that I’m almost physically blown back in my chair.

“God, you scared me with that,” I tell her.

“Thank you,” Seehorn says, beaming.

Because she’s a (generally) well-adjusted human being, Seehorn has developed ways of dealing with the terror and flop sweat that comes with playing the lead on an expensive, highly touted TV series, one that earned 18 Emmy nominations, including one for her lead turn. She converted the garage at her home into what sounds like a veritable wonderland. In one corner, there’s a tiny gym. There’s a place to record voice-over work, not a proper booth, which she’d like someday, but close. There’s a space to be quiet and read scripts. There’s an area where she can paint, sculpt, do jigsaw puzzles, Lego sets, embroider — all the things that ease her anxiety but also help her work through creative blocks.

“If I have too much of a vice grip on a scene and I can’t figure it out, I’ll do a jigsaw puzzle or draw while running the lines,” Seehorn says.

She loves creating things, but she also loves projects that involve following instructions. That soothes her. In the middle of enthusing about a cross-stitch embroidery project, she says, “Don’t roll your eyes at me!” Which I most definitely was not doing. That was my daydreaming, thinking face.

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

Sometimes these projects make their way inside the house, where Seehorn might turn on the television and watch what she calls “murder TV,” sitting under a big, curved metal dome lamp that feels like an interrogation spotlight. There, her brain still working on what she was doing in her office, she’ll lose herself on multiple fronts as she wrestles with a scene.

Seehorn loves watching shows like “Dateline” because they provide a sense of order in a chaotic world. Bad guy. Bad guy gets caught. Bad guy goes to jail. All is well. But it goes beyond that. As an actor, she loves watching people trying to lie — and failing. She can’t believe how bad people are at not telling the truth.

“Every single time, I’m like, ‘Dude’s lying,’” Seehorn says. “Women too, where I’m watching an interrogation scene and thinking, ‘There’s a zero percent chance you did not know someone was going to break in and shoot your husband.’ It’s funny because as actors, whenever we’re playing criminals that are lying to the police, we’re really good at it.”

Does that mean Seehorn is an adept liar? Yes and no. You’ve seen her act. She can make you believe anything. But when she does lie, she is compelled to confess, even when the fib is innocuous.

“I’ll be in a conversation where there’s a bunch of cool people talking about a movie they saw, and I’ll be like, ‘Oh yeah, that was great!’” Seehorn says. “And then I’ll leave and then I’ll come back and say, ‘I didn’t actually see it. I’m sorry.’ And they’re like, ‘Who’s that weird girl?’ I’m good at lying, but bad at holding the guilt.”

So when you’re telling me you don’t know any details about the second season of “Pluribus,” are you misleading me? I ask.

“I know nothing!” Seehorn says. The atomic bomb in the crate that a helicopter carefully deposits in Carol’s driveway in the last scene? “As soon as they said, ‘Cut,’ I went up to Vince and asked, ‘Now can you tell me what we’re doing?’ And he said, ‘I have no idea.’”

“And all these months later, I know no more than that,” she continues.

But if you did…

“You’d be getting a phone call from me about an hour after we say goodbye, confessing all,” Seehorn answers, smiling.

The phone still hasn’t rung.

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

EMMERDALE star Jack Downham has quietly quit the show after 17 years.

The actor, who plays Noah Dingle on the ITV soap, is set to exit the soap tonight, but not before their family dog Monty passes away.

The Sun revealed last month that Noah was leaving the Dales.

Noah has recently shared his desire to apply for a job in Germany but Charity was reluctant for him to leave.

On Wednesday’s show, the Woolpack landlady had a change of heart and encouraged her son to purse his dreams.

As Noah prepared to depart, the Dingle family suffered another major blow when their beloved dog Monty was rushed to the vets.

And sadly Monty couldn’t be saved, leaving the Dingle clan heartbroken.

In Monty’s final scenes, Cain praised the pooch for being a good boy all these years and asked dad Zak Dingle to take care of him in heaven.

In emotional scenes, Cain told a dying Monty: “You are a good boy, I know my dad was always grateful for having you.

“When you get up there, tell him how much you love him and that we miss him loads and that he takes you for plenty of walks, just like old times.

“We love you, scruffy old thing,” with tears running down his face, he turned to vet Rhona and added: “I think he’s gone.”

Noah then visited Cain to bid farewell as he headed off on his new adventure.

Last month, we revealed that character was set to depart and had already filmed his exit scenes.

A telly source said: “Jack is such a lovely lad, and everyone adores him.

“He’s been on the show since he was a young child so it’s all he’s ever known.

“He was told of the news last month and his axing has once again sent shockwaves through the cast and crew.

“Everyone is wondering who will be next.”

But one of his pals added: “Jack is looking at the positives though and is hopeful about future opportunities.”

The bloodbath in the Dales has already hit another popular Dingle recently — plus other cast members.

Bradley Johnson who has played Mandy ­Dingle’s on-screen son Vinny for seven years has been dumped, as well as Nick Miles — who’s been in his Jimmy King role for 22 years — and Olivia Bromley who plays Dawn Taylor.

And rumours are rife that bosses are planning a big stunt that could kill off even more of the long-running soap’s cast later this year.

Last month Emmerdale took home two gongs at the ­Television and Radio Industries Club awards — for Soap of the Year and for Best Soap Actor, which went to Jeff Hordley who has played Cain Dingle for more than 20 years.

With the biggest global opening weekend in history, “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” is cleaning up at the box office in a manner that left “The Odyssey” spitting sand. (Relatively speaking; “The Odyssey” also had a strong worldwide debut and is on track to become the third R-rated film to hit the billion-dollar mark.)

But while Christopher Nolan’s vision of a nearly 3,000–year–old epic poem has received, with the exception of a few less-than–impressed classics experts and the usual “replacement theory” nut jobs, waves of gratitude for helping revitalize cinema, the success of “Spider-Man” has many of these same people scratching their heads.

Certainly the reviews have been mixed — some find the narrative streamlined and personal with Tom Holland giving his best-ever performance; others declare “Brand New Day” to be overstuffed with franchise teasers and/or suggest that, at 30, Holland is getting a bit old for the job.

So how is it, pundits wondered, that Spidey has vanquished the ultimate supervillain: superhero fatigue.

It’s simple really: love.

There’s a reason “Love Actually” featured a kid in Spider-Man face paint, as opposed to a Superman cape. People, especially kids (and the adults they will become), love Spider-Man with an affection that is deep and true. Unlike so many other superheroes, Peter Parker is one of us. He’s not a super-scientist or a god or an extraterrestrial or a one-percenter able to develop all manner of nifty crime-fighting gadgetry. He’s a kid who, having been accidentally endowed with superpowers that do not disfigure him, physically or emotionally (no Red Room trauma, inner rage monster, centurylong life span), remains a kid with an adolescent’s delight in all he can now do.

He’s funny, sweet and, having been raised right (in this latest iteration by Marisa Tomei’s hip and humanitarian Aunt May), extremely polite, even as he takes down all the bad guys — a cheeky bright spot in a landscape super-peopled almost exclusively with adults and all their existential whinging and regretful brooding.

But our feelings for the character is not the only, or most important, love story helping to drive the success of “Brand New Day.” Perhaps because they are closest in age to Romeo and Juliet, the complicated courtship of Peter and MJ (or Gwen), has always been the best built-in love story in the multiverse. The actors playing those roles — Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst, Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone — invariably became romantic partners so when the series was revived with Holland, with Zendaya as MJ, producer Amy Pascal warned them not to date.

Mercifully, they did not listen and in Holland and Zendaya, “Brand New Day” has a real-life beloved couple (recently married) playing a fictional beloved couple, now divided by the memory-erasing spell of the previous film, “Spider-Man: No Way Home.”

Screenwriters Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers’ decision to have Peter Parker wiped from everyone’s memory, including MJ‘s and Ned’s (Jacob Batalon), was a brilliant twist that not only saved us from “Spider-Man Goes to College” but also injected a star-crossed romantic pathos that Shakespeare would envy.

I can’t have been the only person who bought an opening weekend ticket for the sole purpose of finding out if/when/how Peter and MJ would find their way back to each other.

This has been spoiled elsewhere, but we’ll leave it at they do and they don’t. Although the more jaded among us might see the ambiguity as a nakedly emotional hook for future films, including “Avengers: Doomsday,” the opportunity for both Peter and MJ to mature a bit, independent of each other, feels thematically essential and more than a little revolutionary. It certainly sparks an intriguing question about the nature of romantic love, something too often associated with “being saved” in Marvel, and many other, films.

Seeing the famously private couple playfully interact with each other and Batalon during the press tour of “Brand New Day” only amped up the already fevered anticipation of how the trio will regroup as surely they must — the love Peter has for Ned is just as strong and singular as his love for MJ. The fact that we’ve watched these actors grow up before our eyes (Zendaya and Batalon were 19 and Holland 20 when they filmed “Spider-Man: Homecoming” in 2016) makes it even more of a family affair — of course we want to know what happens to Spidey and his gang!

Given the extraordinary success of “Brand New Day,” on top of “The Odyssey,” there is a very good chance that Hollywood, in its infinite and historically flawed wisdom, will decide that superhero fatigue is a myth and that what audiences really want is spectacle. So this is a plea for those in charge to tear their eyes away from the box office returns and look at the film itself.

Yes, “Brand New Day” is full of terrific web-slinging and swinging scenes (albeit ones in which Spider-Man gets even more beat up than usual), but its power is emotional not spectacular, built more on dialogue than special effects.

Holland’s Spider-Man relates more personally to everyone — friends and foes — than any other superhero; his scenes with the Punisher (Jon Bernthal), Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo), Det. DeWolff (Liza Colón-Zayas) and, at the end, Jean Grey (Sadie Sink) are always less about exposition or explosive action than character revelation and connection.

He cares and so do we.

That’s how it works in love stories and, as “Brand New Day” is proving, love stories are pretty hard to beat.

Alone and engulfed in the darkness of a Madrid cinema, Javier Bardem watched Martin Scorsese’s 1991 psychological thriller “Cape Fear” after learning he’d be starring in an episodic reimagining of the crime saga for Apple TV — the series finale is now streaming.

He arranged the private screening to symbolically request Robert De Niro’s blessing to play the dangerously charismatic Max Cady, an ex-con parched for revenge against those who had a hand in his imprisonment. De Niro received an Oscar nomination for that role.

“It was my way of honoring the work he did back then and, at the same time, to detach myself from that performance and ask his permission to create my own take,” Bardem tells me in Spanish while sitting at a restaurant inside a Beverly Hills hotel.

His informal getup, a T-shirt and shorts, contrasts with the elegant environment primed for business lunches and ostentatious dinners. He exudes an easy-going air. A quintessential cool dad casually sipping on an iced Diet Coke as he shares anecdotes about his passion for acting.

Bardem, 57, agreed to play Cady because the version of the character that the show’s creator, Nick Antosca, envisioned was not only decidedly distinct from those embodied by De Niro and Robert Mitchum, the latter of whom starred in a 1962 film adaptation, but also tailored to him as a Spanish man.

Had it been a standard remake, Bardem would have passed. Still, like the films, the show also “drinks from the fountain” of John D. MacDonald’s 1957 novel “The Executioners.” What remains intact across all versions of Cady is a devilish sense of humor and a lack of self-importance. In any of his iterations, he has nothing to lose. That makes him lethal.

In “Cape Fear,” Bardem’s Max Cady is distinct from the versions of the character played by Robert De Niro and Robert Mitchum in earlier films.

(Apple)

The cerebral Cady that Bardem inhabits spent nearly two decades in prison convicted for his wife’s murder. When the discovery of new evidence results in Cady’s freedom, his new mission is to torment Anna (Amy Adams) and Tom Bowden (Patrick Wilson), the attorney and prosecutor on his case, who are now married and have two teenaged children.

Cady turns their lives into a trap of paranoia and, indeed, fear, while procuring plausible deniability to avoid consequences. It’s a malicious and relentless barrage of the mind.

“He’s a 2026 Max Cady. It’s a different way of approaching violation of privacy, and the intrusion of the characters’ psyches. The digital world has made everything very different now,” he explains. “We are hyper-aware of what is said and written about us. We are inundated with so much information that, at times, we can’t tell what is true and what is false.”

While in the 1991 film the audience is aware that De Niro’s Cady committed sexual crimes making him “an absolutely despicable character,” Bardem says this new version portrays a complex person who’s suffered at the hands of the American justice system.

“Here we understand that he was imprisoned for something he didn’t do. He may have done other things, but he says, ‘You turned me into this monster.’ It’s true. From that point on, a vengeful and destructive mindset developed,” Bardem says of his Cady.

The final episode shows the public unmasking of Cady, just before he learns he is responsible for his own son’s death. Bardem describes him as a “dying beast” who has lost control of the narrative that he so meticulously orchestrated to rebuild his image.

The character was written to account for the actor’s Spanish accent. This Cady grew up in Spain until he moved to North Carolina at 13 and learned English on the streets. Bardem worked with renowned dialect coach Tim Monich to infuse his speech with a hint of a Southern drawl, aware that his character didn’t have to sound like a native speaker.

“I’m not bilingual,” Bardem says. The statement is somewhat shocking, considering he’s worked in the U.S. for decades in numerous English-language productions.

“Acting in English is easier for me because the dialogue is set,” he says. “But when the time comes to improvise, I find it difficult. That still doesn’t come naturally to me in English.”

The Spanish actor says acting in English is easier for him but that improvising is more challenging.

(Erik Carter / For The Times)

There’s a freedom to working in English since words have less emotional significance, the Oscar-winner believes. “I can be more daring in English. I can say the words or verbalize the thoughts with much less inhibition, because I am not as emotionally attached,” he explains. “But when you speak in your mother tongue, your body tenses up a bit because you think, ‘I understand the full emotional spectrum of what I’m talking about.’ ”

At this stage in his lauded career, Bardem is interested only in roles that explore “contradictions with an underlying humanity.” He’s played one-dimensional parts in the past, but the cost of being away from his loved ones is too high.

The job has to measure up to the trade-off of precious time he’s surrendering.

The “Cape Fear” production structured the schedule for Bardem to work for two weeks followed by five or six days off, allowing him to travel back to his family, which includes his famous and just as in-demand wife, Penélope Cruz, and their two teenaged children, Leo, 15, and Luna, 13.

“Cape Fear” filmed in Atlanta and Savannah, Ga. That’s a long trip back to Spain but manageable and certainly worthwhile, he says. “One of the few things I ask for contractually is time with family, and that has always been respected; Penélope and I have always managed our projects in such a way that one of us is always present for our kids.”

Thanks to his award-winning turn as an unnerving killer in “No Country for Old Man” and the dapper cyberterrorist in “Skyfall,” audiences might associate Bardem with sinister characters (his Cady joins the ranks). And they are satisfying to portray, he says.

“It’s true that characters with that kind of darkness are very attractive to play,” he says. “The villain is always more compelling than the hero. The hero is perfectly upright. A good villain has many cracks, which is what makes him more human.”

Bardem on playing sinister characters like Max Cady: “The villain is always more compelling than the hero. The hero is perfectly upright. A good villain has many cracks, which is what makes him more human.”

(Apple)

In recent years, however, Bardem made a deliberate effort to work on projects that his children could watch, particularly when they were younger, namely the fantasy musical “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” and the live-action remake of “The Little Mermaid,” in which he played King Triton.

“I needed my children to see what I do,” he says. “They knew I’d leave home for two weeks and then come back, and I’d tell them about it and show them photos, but they hadn’t been able to watch any of my movies yet because they were geared more toward adults.”

Cruz and Bardem have always encouraged their children’s creative pursuits. It wouldn’t surprise them if they eventually pursue a life in the arts. “I don’t see them becoming scientists or lawyers, which makes sense. I don’t know if they will become ‘nepo babies’ or not, but we are conscious that children always feed on what their parents do,” Bardem says.

Every time either Bardem or Cruz gets an offer for a new role, the couple discuss it and then bring their kids into the conversation. It’s important, Bardem believes, that Leo and Luna know how fulfilling acting is for both of their parents.

“They know we feel immense gratitude for being able to make a living from our passion. And they understand that the way we try to live up to that gift is by doing our absolute best and giving it the full attention it deserves,” he says.

When they were younger, the kids weren’t interested in seeing their parents on screen, but that’s changed. “They have seen ‘The Invite’ three times. They love it. And they’ve watched ‘Volver’ and ‘Bandidas,’” he says. “They’ve watched me in ‘F1,’ and Leo is watching ‘Cape Fear.’ ”

In June, Bardem became part of Hollywood history when his hands and footprints were added to the entrance of TCL Chinese Theatre. The ceremony included directors Michael Mann and Denis Villeneuve and producer Jerry Bruckheimer.

“I missed my mother so much at that moment because there are so many footprints of classic actors and actresses there. I imagine my mother seeing my hands and feet next to Gary Cooper, who was one of the loves of her life,” he says.

In June, Bardem’s hands and footprints were added to the entrance of TCL Chinese Theatre: “I missed my mother so much at that moment because there are so many footprints of classic actors and actresses there.”

(Erik Carter / For The Times)

It felt surreal, Bardem says, to have Mann present at the event. They worked together on “Collateral” over two decades ago. “I was crazy about ‘Miami Vice’ in the ’80s,” Bardem says. The suit he wore in the photo shoot for this piece, he adds, reminded him of that emblematic series and film.

Bardem’s latest collaboration with Villeneuve, “Dune: Part Three” hits theaters in December. He recalls the joy of shooting the film’s opening sequence, a battle where the cast was covered in mud. It reminded him of childhood play. “Denis would laugh and say to me, ‘But why are you laughing?’ And I’d say, ‘This is what I used to do in the schoolyard, but now it’s for real. Now I look to my right, and I have 50 guys under my command,’ ” he says.

“I was lucky enough to shoot some scenes with Timothée [Chalamet]. I saw him playing a Paul who is very different from the Paul in the second film,” Bardem continues. “Years have passed, and Paul is now wielding power and is a victim of that power.”

Outspoken about the ongoing plight of Palestinians, Bardem wishes more people could apply the lessons they mine from fiction they consume to the world in turmoil.

“We root for the rebels in ‘Star Wars’ and want them to defeat Darth Vader, or we side with the Fremen in ‘Dune.’ We always take sides in fiction. Yet, when we witness oppression, abuse and the violation of the most fundamental rights by an oppressor in real life, we seem to struggle to stand with the oppressed,” Bardem explains. “That cannot be.”

Even while attending matches at the recent World Cup, where Spain won the title, the actor advocated for an end to the carnage. A viral video shows him engaging with a Palestinian man at a match. “Existence is resistance,” Bardem tells him. On social media he’s shared images of Lamine Yamal, one of his national team’s stars, waving the Palestinian flag.

“The impunity Israel enjoys regarding these crimes, both legally and in terms of international support, creates a profound sense of powerlessness,” he says.

Bardem admits he’s been asked, whether directly or indirectly, to tone down his vocal support. But he doesn’t fear backlash. On the contrary, he’s never felt more support from everyday people who share his mindset.

“If I’m so privileged to have a good life where I work doing what I love and can provide my family with stability and security, how could I not use that privilege to denounce those things that I think are wrong?”

Almost five years ago, “Spider-Man: No Way Home” swung into theaters in the teeth of a COVID-19 surge and did what almost nothing else could that winter: drove cooped-up moviegoers to cinemas and opened to one of the biggest domestic debuts on record, pulling in $260 million.

This weekend, Peter Parker is back — a little older, more world-weary and facing a far less forgiving market.

The genre’s floor has dropped out since then.

Annual box office revenue for superhero movies is down, on average, about $3.5 billion, about half of what it was during the pre-pandemic years of 2017 to 2019, according to data from the FranchiseRe industry newsletter. Sony Pictures is betting that more real-world stunts, a relatable narrative and Spidey’s lasting popularity are enough to put “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” on the other side of that trend.

Whatever the approach, the commercial appetite is there. Pre-sales for the film, which stars Tom Holland and Zendaya, have been robust, and industry tracking estimates an opening weekend haul of at least $195 million in the U.S. and Canada. If that holds, it would be the year’s biggest domestic debut, beating Walt Disney Co. and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5” ($159.7 million). The movie cost about $225 million to produce and is produced by Sony’s Columbia Pictures, Marvel Studios and Pascal Pictures.

“This movie takes a grounded, emotional approach to the story, and I actually believe that’s what audiences are hungry for,” said Tom Rothman, chairman of Sony’s motion picture group. “It’s got all the whiz-bang wow visuals. But at its heart, it’s more a superperson movie, if you will, rather than a superhero movie.”

“Brand New Day” picks up where the last film left off. A spell has erased Peter Parker from the world’s memory — the price of undoing the public exposure of his identity — leaving him a stranger to his best friend, Ned, and to MJ. Without those friendships, he pours himself into his crime-fighting work to stave off his loneliness.

That feeling of being adrift without knowing where to turn is what the filmmakers built the movie around.

“We’re all really isolated from each other,” said Amy Pascal, one of the film’s producers who has overseen the entire franchise. “That kind of longing for connection between people and not knowing how to make it happen and living in a world where we become more and more remote, matched the moment that people are going through.”

The smaller scale was also a reaction to what came before it. “No Way Home” brought back Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield in a time-bending multiverse crossover, and there was no topping it.

“That was a movie that was 20 years in the making,” Pascal said. “There was no way to be bigger than that. So we went smaller. We went internal instead of external, and we found the bigness in that.”

Peter Parker’s isolation is what drew director Destin Daniel Cretton, who made 2021’s “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” and was an executive producer on the Marvel Television series “Wonder Man.” He said he related to the pain and tragedy the character goes through, and to the idea of a superhero story that felt like it was happening in a real place.

The production’s rule of thumb became trying to execute scenes practically, in front of a lens, wherever possible.

That included a tank chase shot largely on a street in Glasgow, Scotland, on the first day of filming, complete with a rig that let an actor swing with explosions going off behind him. Thousands of people showed up to watch, which was “a big adrenaline rush on day one,” Cretton said.

A later set piece — Spider-Man against a group of red-clad ninjas known as the Hand — was shot at a former prison outside London.

Cretton’s insistence on real locations has an argument behind it. At a moment when audiences want to know what goes into moviemaking and are increasingly unsure whether the myriad images they’re looking at were generated by artificial intelligence, the answer is visible labor.

“Right now, more than ever, I think it’s important for audiences to really feel that people made the thing that they’re watching, and people went through an experience to make the thing they’re watching,” said Cretton, who grew up watching behind-the-scenes segments on his favorite DVDs. “All of that, I think, is just as important as the thing that they’re watching.”

Effects alone don’t carry a superhero movie — or any movie, for that matter — anymore, Cretton said.

“The action can be great, the [visual effects] can be fantastic, the explosions can be huge, but if there isn’t some type of emotional spine that connects with people where they are and what they’re going through, it’s just another big, explosive movie,” he said.

The slump itself isn’t in dispute. Many of Marvel’s newer films haven’t come close to the heights its predecessors once cleared, and this year, movies like Amazon MGM Studios’ “Masters of the Universe” and Warner Bros. and DC Studios’ “Supergirl” underperformed in theaters.

What’s driving it is contested.

“I don’t think it’s fatigue of the genre,” Rothman said. “I think it’s the audience wanting new things and less predictability.”

For Marvel, long treated as the genre’s gold standard, part of the problem was volume; a dense web of interconnected films and TV shows that made casual viewers feel like they had too much homework to do before a new premiere.

The likeliest near-term explanation for that estimated $195-million opening, though, may have less to do with tone than with supply and brand. “Brand New Day” is the first Marvel superhero film since last year’s “The Fantastic Four: First Steps,” and Spider-Man remains one of the most commercially durable characters in the genre.

The calendar is also less accommodating than it was. The latest “Spider-Man” installment opens against Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey” and holdovers including “Toy Story 5” — a considerably more crowded field than the thin, pandemic-era slate its predecessor benefited from on the way to $1.9 billion.

And the movie has a second job. With Disney and Marvel’s “Avengers: Doomsday” arriving at the end of the year, “Brand New Day” has to leave audiences wanting it.

“It’s got a lot riding on it,” said Steve Granelli, a teaching professor and division head of communication studies at Northeastern University. “Not just in terms of this being yet another ‘Spider-Man’ film, but also this being a huge storytelling device in the larger [Marvel franchise].”

Which is the tension at the center of the pitch. The filmmaking team went internal on purpose, and built a movie about a young man nobody remembers. It also has to set up the largest external event on Marvel’s calendar.

Spoiler alert: This post contains details from the new film “Spider-Man: Brand New Day.”

Apparently Tom Holland isn’t the only “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” creative with a bad habit of accidentally spoiling movies.

Grammy winner Steve Lacy joined the festivities during the film’s Hollywood premiere on Monday, detailing more than just his original song for the latest “Spider-Man” flick. The “Oh Yeah” and “Bad Habit” singer also allegedly spilled the beans on “Stranger Things” alumna Sadie Sink‘s “Spider-Man” character, which Marvel has kept tightly under wraps. Lacy delivered the accidental reveal while speaking with Twitch star Valkyrae, who hosted the film’s official red carpet stream. During Monday’s carpet, Valkyrae asked Lacy to name his favorite character from the movie “without spoiling anything,” according to video shared on social media.

“Jean. I like Jean,” he responds, “she’s the villain but, like, there’s a reason to her madness.” After Valkyrae asks whether his answer was a spoiler, Lacy seemingly tones down his enthusiasm for the character. “I like her character. I don’t know why.”

Lacy didn’t quite link Sink with this mystery Jean. Still, it’s worth noting that Sink’s role has been the subject of much speculation, with fans suspecting she would play Marvel-verse X-Men telekinetic and telepath Jean Grey. Sink would be the third actress to play the role, after Famke Janssen and “Game of Thrones” alumna Sophie Turner. (Another Marvel universe Jean is Jean De Wolff, a Spider-Man ally who was a police detective and captain.)

“Spider-Man: Brand New Day” will also see Tom Holland, Zendaya and Jacob Batalon reprise their roles and also features Mark Ruffalo and Jon Bernthal among others. Holland recently starred alongside Zendaya and Bernthal in Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey.”

The trailer, released in March, shows Peter/Spider-Man (Holland) reeling as he struggles to reconnect with his friends. To his dismay, MJ (Zendaya) has a new man in her life. As in the previous films, Peter attempts to balance his personal woes with superhero struggles — but he’ll have another Avenger in his corner. The clip shows Ruffalo’s Bruce Banner (a.k.a. the Hulk) guiding Peter through an “enormously dangerous” physical evolution and teases several baddies, including Bernthal’s antihero Punisher.

Sink has been all-in on the “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” press tour, managing to keep tight-lipped about her role. Earlier this month, Marvel shared playful videos of Sink somewhat discussing her role to help stave off eager fans’ curiosity. In one clip, she provides “Spider-Man” fans with three incredibly helpful clues: She does not play Spider-Man, she does not play Aunt May (who perished in “Spider-Man: No Way Home”) and she is definitely in the latest movie.

When it comes to spoiling “Spider-Man” and other Marvel films, it often seems like the call is coming from inside. Over the years, Holland has gained a reputation for his loose lips, spoiling plot details from “Spider-Man” and “Avengers” films.

Maybe accidental spoilers are just par for the course?

“Spider-Man: Brand New Day” hits theaters, with showings on Thursday leading into Friday’s release.

Coronation Street’s Jodie Ramsey has finally confessed to Shona that she attacked Sarah Platt on the night of Theo’s murder and now fans think this could finally spell the end for the controversial character

Jodie Ramsey confessed to her sister Shona that she attacked Sarah Platt on Sunday night’s episode of Coronation Street. Earlier this year, her long-lost sister, who had never been mentioned before, turned up in the programme’s crossover with Emmerdale, arriving tied up in the back of a van.

Ever since her arrival, Jodie (Olivia Frances Brown), who was first seen tied up in the back of a van, has been shrouded in mystery, although it is quite clear that there is something sinister about her. In the four months since she made her debut, Jodie has been stealing various items that belong to neighbours – the most recent of which was a gun – and also tried to pass herself off as Shona at the hospital.

Viewers have known for months that Jodie attacked Sarah on that fateful night in April, just moments after the factory supervisor, who has been played by Tina O’Brien since 1999, killed the abusive Theo Silverton by hitting him over the head with a pole.

Whilst David, Shona’s husband, was visiting his sister in prison, she told him that she believed Jodie had hit her over the head to stop her seeing what was in her box.

Back at number eight, Shona had dragged a confession out of Jodie and raged at her: “I’m starting to doubt whether or not you were even kidnapped. OK, all right, so you hit her.

“Then what? Well, I mean, you know, you see her lying on the ground, you realise you’ve just attacked David’s sister. Did you check her pulse? Did you do mouth-to-mouth?”

Jodie begged for forgiveness, and then twisted things around as she said: “You know, when you think about it… ..by not saying owt, well, I was actually protecting Sarah,” to which Shona laughed in disbelief. At her wits’ end, Shona told Jodie to get out of the house, telling her she didn’t care where she ended up.

Later on, Shona was clearly worried when her sister hadn’t turned back up and was constantly ringing her. As David’s daughter Lily looked around the house to try to find her confiscated gaming console, she stumbled upon Jodie’s trinket box and discovered the gun that her mysterious long-lost step aunty had stolen and stashed away some weeks ago.

Reacting to the explosive scenes, fans predicted this could finally spell the end of Jodie now that Shona is edging ever closer to realising something is clearly not right.

One fan wrote on X: “Really hope Jodie gets put away soon…not sure why she’s there, and what happened to her dad?”

Another said: “Hoping it’s the end of Jodie soon,” but a third remained unconvinced this was all leading to Jodie’s exit as theyd ranted: “Soap is unbelievable so Shona has found out Jodie has attacked Sarah and you watch in a few weeks they will be friends again and living together.

“Imagine that happening in real life would be completely different. Before people say it’s not real #Corrie was meant to portray life!”

Coronation Street airs weeknights at 8:30pm on ITV1 and ITV X.

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On paper, Lauren Meyering’s debut feature “Horsegirls” sounds like it was made in a 2000s indie movie lab: It features a quirky heroine with a unique hobby, a loved one with a devastating illness and the formation of an unlikely community that rallies around our protagonist and her dream. But surprise — the events of “Horsegirls” are inspired by a true story, one close to Meyering, who based the film on her family friends Mackenzie and Sandra Breeden. Sometimes real life can be the realest indie movie of all.

“Horsegirls” might read on paper as too sickly sweet, but Meyering’s thoughtful direction and star Lillian Carrier’s performance keep it from tipping too far in that direction. Carrier stars as Margarita, a young woman with autism who lives with her cancer-stricken mother, Sandy (Gretchen Mol). The pair are inseparable, with Margarita accompanying her mother to chemotherapy treatments and their own special celebration rituals involving karaoke and sharing combo platters.

Sandy desperately wants Margarita to get a job but her first steps toward independence come when she spies a hobby horse rehearsal and becomes fixated on joining. If you’re unfamiliar with hobby horsing, it’s a sport originating from Finland that’s growing in popularity. It involves a choreographed routine involving elements of gymnastics and traditional dressage performed while using a “hobby horse” — a stuffed horse head on a stick.

For Margarita, who loves horses but isn’t allowed to interact with them due to her mother’s safety fears, it seems the perfect solution, and she persists despite the clique-ish mean girl behavior from some of the younger participants. The coach (Jerod Haynes) sees her determination and encourages her participation, so she gets a job at a Halloween store to pay for it but keeps it a secret from Sandy. As it turns out, both mother and daughter are keeping secrets from each other.

While the plot unfolds in a fairly predictable manner, it’s the character of Margarita who keeps us on our toes. Carrier, who also has autism, brings an inherent authenticity to the role as well as a sense of good humor that draws people to Margarita, a character who always says what’s on her mind, whether or not it’s polite or appropriate. But her refreshing honesty is what people respond to, and both she and Sandy know she’s going to need people in the not-so-distant future.

Meyering carefully threads the themes of parental concern and young adult independence throughout her screenplay. The anxieties are universal — any parent wants to feel assured that their child is going to be OK when they’re gone; any child wants to prove that they’re capable and free to do what they want. Characters like Margarita’s store manager Hank (Iqbal Theba) prove that strangers can “get” Margarita just as she is, without her mother’s interference or interpretation, even if it takes some time for Sandy to understand that.

Meyering and cinematographer Natalie Kingston create a naturalistic and often dark look, though “Horsegirls” is beautifully shot. The distinctive photography sets it apart cinematically from other films in this genre — just like Margarita herself, who visually stands out from the other girls.

This is a simple story executed with singular panache, and while “Horsegirls” follows expected narrative beats, it’s in the moments of surprise that it works best, often thanks to Carrier and her straightforward line deliveries, which help the tone pop. The film is a reminder that conformity is never compulsory, and that putting yourself out there is the only way to find out who’s ready to catch you.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Casualty fans were left both surprised and baffled on Saturday’s episode to see a returning face

Casualty aired explosive scenes involving Dylan Keogh on Saturday night.

Viewers will recall that only recently, recovering alcoholic Dylan, played by William Beck, relapsed after struggling with the news that his colleague, Stevie Nash, had been having an affair with his son Dr Matty Linlaker.

Since relapsing, Dylan has pushed his loved ones away, including son Matty, and he has caused concern in recent scenes after he was seen driving erratically with a bottle by his side.

At the start of Saturday’s episode, Dylan headed to a care home to visit his father, Brian Carroll. However, alcoholic Brian didn’t recognise his son due to his years of drinking and things soon got unpleasant when Brian said some horrible things about his son, claiming he never loved Dylan.

Taking to Twitter, now X, viewers were quick to do a double take over Brian as they quickly spotted that he had been recast with a different actor. Brian made his first debut in 2015 and he was last seen on the BBC medical series in 2018.

In the earlier episodes, Brian was played by actor Matthew Marsh but on Saturday’s episode, the character of Brian was being played by actor David Beames.

Viewers were quick to share their reaction to Brian’s return after eight years, especially as it was a new actor playing the character. One person said: “Woah that is a different Brian? What happened to Dylan’s little sister with Hazel? #Casualty”

Another person wrote: “Dylan’s father is back?! #Casualty”, a different viewer put: “they’ve recast dylan’s dad! oh! #casualty” while another fan added: “Hang on… That’s not Matthew Marsh… Dylan has a new dad? #Casualty.”

Later in the episode, upset by his father’s cruel words, Dylan rushed out of the care home and started drinking from the clear bottle as he drove off, leaving his son Matty a voicemail saying: “Things are going to change”, adding that he’s not like his own father and that he cares about Matty.

Upon listening to the message, Matty and Stevie were concerned to hear a crash at the end, where it looked as though Dylan had been involved in a serious car crash.

However, thankfully, Matty discovered his dad uninjured and upon confronting his father for drink driving, Dylan insisted he hadn’t drunk since his initial relapse. A breathalyser later confirmed that he was telling the truth.

The emotional episode ended with Dylan vowing to make things right again and start AA meetings, as well as therapy to tackle his addiction.

Casualty continues on BBC One.

This article contains many spoilers for “Heartstopper Forever.”

In the early minutes of “Heartstopper Forever” — the feature film finale of Netflix’s hit teen romantic dramedy series — Charlie Spring (Joe Locke) notices a crooked photo strip on his boyfriend Nick Nelson’s (Kit Connor) bedroom wall. Gently pulling down the pictures, taken on the beach day they made their relationship official, Charlie smiles wistfully at their younger selves: “We look like babies.”

It’s a line that applies to the characters as much as it does to Locke and Connor. Four years after being catapulted into global stardom, the pair are bidding a bittersweet farewell to the roles that have defined their own coming of age.

“Season 1 does feel like an immensely long time ago that I do look back and think, ‘Yeah, we do look like babies,’” Connor says, with Locke nodding in agreement next to him on a recent video call from London. “‘Heartstopper’ itself was this tiny little show that was clearly something quite special to us, but we didn’t really think or know anyone was going to watch. And, suddenly, it became this thing that was immensely important to a lot of people.”

Adapted by Alice Oseman from her own bestselling graphic novels, which originated as a webcomic in 2016, “Heartstopper” chronicles the endearing love story between high-strung, gay overthinker Charlie and kind-hearted, bisexual rugby player Nick at an all-boys’ school in England.

Nick (Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke) in a scene from Season 1 of “Heartstopper.”

(Netflix)

Upon its debut in 2022, the show was lauded for its unabashedly joyful, tender portrayal of queer youth — a refreshing departure from the trauma-heavy narratives that dominate other teen dramas. Even as “Heartstopper” ventured into darker thematic territory, such as Charlie’s history of eating disorders and struggles with self-harm, Oseman’s writing never lost its deft, light touch.

From the outset, Oseman knew she wanted to end “Heartstopper” with Nick going off to university in Leeds and Charlie, who is a year younger, finding independence as head boy at school. But with her cast growing increasingly more in demand every year, the author-turned-screenwriter says it would have been logistically difficult to make a fourth and final season.

After Netflix greenlit a two-hour finale instead, Oseman elected to zero in on her protagonists — not unlike her comics — rather than give each character their own, heavily condensed arc. “I think that was definitely the right decision, because we really get to spend a lot of time with Nick and Charlie and not feel like we’re missing anything,” she says.

Directed by Wash Westmoreland (“Colette,” “Still Alice”), “Forever” finds the first loves grappling with the reality of an impending long-distance relationship, leading to a rash breakup and, ultimately, an emotional reconciliation. In a surprising role reversal, as Charlie confidently steps into a leadership role as an advocate for other LGBTQ+ students, Nick is left to discover his own identity and self-worth outside of being the protective, supportive boyfriend.

On the set of “Heartstopper Forever” as Connor and Locke film a scene from the movie.

(Samuel Dore / Netflix)

Connor, who also executive produced the film with Locke, felt Charlie and Nick’s romance would be better wrapped up in a feature-length format. “There were a few very important and crucial, but short and intense [plot points] — the breakup and the time apart, and the eventual makeup and the two of them discovering who they are without one another,” he explains. “Doing it in a shorter period, I thought, would make those things hit that much harder and feel that much more visceral.”

Unlike previous seasons in which she could rely on her existing comics as storyboards for the show, Oseman was working simultaneously last year on the sixth and final volume of the “Heartstopper” comics, released earlier this month, and the “Forever” screenplay.

Juggling the same story in two different formats turned out to benefit each end product. “When I finished writing the first draft of the script, it actually made me do a really big rewrite of the comic, because it helped me see which moments were really important and which moments didn’t need to be there,” she says. (One of the pivotal scenes was the Pride parade, filmed on the last morning of production.)

As first-time producers, Locke and Connor also provided script notes that directly influenced the story. For instance, “there was no scene between Charlie and Mr. Ajayi in the original script,” says Locke, referring to the gay art teacher, played by Fisayo Akinade, whose classroom became Charlie’s safe haven from bullying before he befriended Nick. “I was like, ‘That scene in Season 1 with them is so pivotal to the story. It would be really lovely to have just a little moment for them in the film that circles on that chapter of their relationship.’ And straight away, Alice was like, ‘Yeah, great idea. Let’s do this.’”

For his part, Connor always feared that the show’s “rose-tinted” approach, though part of the story’s appeal, “would not be nuanced enough to talk about the complexities of being human and being young.”

Locke says he proposed a scene with Fisayo Akinade, who plays art teacher Mr. Ajayi, as a way to circle back on their relationship.

(Netflix)

“There was one moment where I was like, ‘Oh God, I hope these young people watching “Heartstopper” don’t suddenly forget that these kids are human, and that these kids can make mistakes and still be lovely, delightful and good people,’” Connor says. With Oseman and Locke, Connor was adamant about “finding the place [where] these characters were being treated in a way that we all felt good about.”

According to Oseman, Locke and Connor were also heavily involved in selecting a new intimacy coordinator, Robbie Taylor Hunt. Over the years, the amount of sex — or lack thereof — in “Heartstopper” has been the subject of much discourse. “It always annoyed me slightly that people were like, ‘Oh, this is so unrealistic. They’re not having sex.’ They were underage. What do you want us to do?” Locke says with a wry laugh.

Oseman has learned to tune out that online chatter, accepting that she cannot please everyone — let alone represent the entire spectrum of the young queer experience. With each season and now this film, her creative team chose to age up the story slightly. After Charlie and Nick lost their virginity to each other at the end of Season 3, the film uses physical intimacy to reveal more about their maturing relationship.

Locke says those scenes were necessary to the plot. “The pier sex scene is this carnal lust between these two people who need to get it out. The sex scene in the pillow fort is a moment of connection for them,” he says. “And the big sex scene at the end of the film is the reconciliation of their relationship.”

In the end, Nick and Charlie decide to give their relationship another shot, confident that their love can defy the conventional wisdom that teen romances rarely last. But what they learn during their split is “that you can’t put all of your hopes and dreams, your mental health and your ability to survive into one person, because it’s not fair on yourself and on that other person,” Connor says.

Over the years, the amount of sex, or lack of it, in “Heartstopper” has been the subject of online discourse. The film shows more physical intimacy.

(Netflix)

The film’s epilogue, like in the comics, offers a brief glimpse of Charlie visiting Nick for a weekend in Leeds, ending with the two of them looking through the pages of a scrapbook that still has room for new photos. While Oseman has her own vision of Nick and Charlie’s future in 10 years — they’d be newly married with a dog, she believes — the actors who play them aren’t so sure.

“I feel like the beauty of ‘Heartstopper’ is that we get to see a chapter of these two young men’s lives, and it ends in a way that doesn’t promise anything,” Connor says. “Even if they were to not end up together eventually, it wouldn’t make the experience that they shared together any less special or pivotal to who they are as people. I think that’s kind of beautiful.”

Locke is reluctant to divulge his own interpretation of the characters’ future, preferring instead to let viewers make sense of the hopeful ending. “I hope they’re happy,” he says simply. (But for the record, the actors both believe that Charlie and Nick will stay together. “Of course, we all hope so,” Connor clarifies.)

Although she is ready to tell new stories, Oseman believes that she will be revisiting Nick and Charlie, who first appeared in her 2014 debut novel “Solitaire,” “in small ways for the rest of my life.”

“I think there definitely won’t be another 10-year-long webcomic — probably not — but I love thinking about what Nick and Charlie might be up to when they’re 40 or 60,” Oseman says. However, she adds, “I think the main story of ‘Heartstopper’ has concluded, and I do feel good about that.”

Like their high school characters, Locke and Connor are ready to graduate from the “Heartstopper” universe. Wary of being typecast, they have established themselves as versatile stage actors, making their Broadway debuts in “Sweeney Todd” and “Romeo + Juliet,” respectively. Onscreen, Locke joined the Marvel universe in “Agatha All Along,” while Connor has explored vastly different cinematic genres — his next major project, the film adaptation of the dark fantasy video game “Elden Ring,” will reunite him with “Warfare” director Alex Garland.

Even on the day of our interview, Connor and Locke looked a world away from Nick and Charlie. Locke wore an all-black designer outfit, while Connor — dressed in a light blue striped button-down over a white tank and khakis — had traded Nick’s signature floppy hair for designer stubble. Yet both actors have made peace with the reality that they will forever be linked to each other and their roles. “That’s part and parcel of the job,” Connor says.

Fittingly, the last scene Connor and Locke filmed as Nick and Charlie was the anniversary scene in the park where there is a fallen tree with the letters “N+C” carved into the trunk. “It was lovely because it was back to how a lot of the ‘Heartstopper’ experience has been, which is just me and Joe,” Connor says.

“I love thinking about what Nick and Charlie might be up to when they’re 40 or 60,” says creator Alice Oseman. However, she adds, “I think the main story of ‘Heartstopper’ has concluded, and I do feel good about that.”

(Netflix)

Would they be open to revisiting Charlie and Nick’s love story as older adults? “In 10, 15, 20 years, who knows? Maybe,” Connor says. “Even if Alice were to decide that they wanted to make a TV show about another character in the universe of ‘Heartstopper’ and they wanted us to cameo or something, then, hey, maybe.”

While the “Heartstopper” team expected the series to resonate with younger audiences, they have been particularly moved by the reactions of older queer viewers, who have marveled at the strides in LGBTQ+ representation onscreen. Coming from the world of young-adult fiction — where she notes stories of queer joy are abundant — Oseman recalls being surprised that “Heartstopper” was treated as an anomaly in mainstream media. Still, she is proud to have helped move the needle on LGBTQ+ representation, particularly when such characters remain underrepresented.

“My hope is that people will be able to look back … and say, ‘Hey, “Heartstopper” did really well. Let’s make another queer show that’s got the [same] ‘queer joy’ vibes,’” Oseman says. “I hope it’s been able to give that encouragement to the people in power to let there be more stories out there because we just need more, different kinds of queer stories.”

Connor believes that anyone can enjoy the show because “Heartstopper” simply captures the universality of “human beings being happy and being in love.”

“Obviously, the [queer] representation is incredibly important. I think that the very existence of the show and the comfort and safety that it can bring people is one of the things that makes it so special,” Connor says. And the demand for such stories “isn’t going to change,” he adds. “Queer people are always going to exist.”

EXCLUSIVE: Hollyoaks newcomer Charlotte Riley, who replaced original Leah Barnes actress Ela-May Demircan, has revealed the pressure of taking on the role amid backlash

Hollyoaks‘ new Leah Barnes actress Charlotte Riley has shared her reaction to backlash from viewers aimed at bosses.

After the role was recast and original actress Ela-May Demircan was replaced, newcomer Charlotte confessed there was “pressure” with taking on the role. Hearing out why fans weren’t impressed about the changes to the character, Charlotte explained why the role was recast.

She also, in an exclusive chat with the Mirror, defended the changes to Leah as fans called out the character’s “personality transplant”. Hollyoaks bosses planned the change in order to take the character of Leah down a different route.

As for the changes to Leah as a person, it’s very much to do with her time in LA. Charlotte hopes the show will explore some of Leah’s past, while she added that we will see another side to Leah very soon.

On the backlash, Charlotte sympathised: “There is definitely pressure. I obviously understand it because when you watch your favourite show, and they recast someone, you’re like, it’s not her!

“I would be the exact same honestly. People don’t like change, myself included, but I think that’s why people need to get comfortable with change in that life changes people.

“People grow and that’s what they wanted to do with Leah, take her down a different route. She’s been in LA, she’s been studying, and she’s changed as a person.

“She’s had these American influences, and her style’s changed.” Charlotte also explained that a lot of the confidence and chaos we are seeing with Leah is a front she’s putting on.

She told us: “There’s a lot that’s gone on and you never lose your inner self. She has past trauma like with the loss of her mum, she’s not completely changed. But she’s got these great cover-ups, she puts on a front for everyone.

“In the summer we will see it deteriorate a bit. She’s not always perfect and she wants to put on a front. Finding this new aspiration of being an influencer, it’s given her confidence to change as a person.”

Charlotte is loving her time on the soap though, and she talked about reuniting with her Coronation Street co-stars Lewis Walton and Brook Debio, who both recently joined the Channel 4 soap too. She said: “Brook found out way before anything, then Lewis and then it just happened, it was me!

“I love it, it still doesn’t feel real and I don’t think it ever will. When you’re constantly doing auditions and it’s rejection therapy, when you do get the job it’s like imposter syndrome.

“But I have found my feet a bit, and I’m settled in now. I love it. I’m constantly living in that dream and doing what I have wanted to do since I was little.”

Hollyoaks is available to stream on Channel 4’s streaming service now, while it also airs Mondays to Wednesdays on E4 at 7PM. * Follow Mirror Celebs and TV on TikTok , Snapchat , Instagram , Twitter , Facebook , YouTube and Threads .

London — It’s a scorching day and the city feels blanketed by the heat. Even the unusually strong air conditioning in a suite at the Raffles hotel is no match for the temperature. Octavia Spencer immediately peels off her jacket after entering the room and realizing there are no cameras present for our interview. Hannah Waddingham, her co-star in “Ride or Die,” kicks off her heels as they settle onto a plush sofa.

“You’ve seen that we look nice,” Spencer says. “So now we can do this.”

There’s a relaxed, familiar vibe between the actors. They didn’t know each other prior to filming the series, now streaming on Prime Video, but they did develop a real-life friendship during production in Prague last year. It was perhaps inevitable considering that “Ride or Die,” created by Tessa Coates, is about two best friends whose relationship is upended when one of them is revealed to be a professional assassin.

Spencer, 56, plays Debbie Claybourne, a lawyer whose career has been put on hold due to her British husband David’s political aspirations. The actor was approached by Skydance, now part of Paramount, as part of a development deal with the studio. She said yes almost immediately, and by happenstance both she and the producers imagined Waddingham, 51, in the role of Judith Burton, a skilled assassin who works for a shady organization run by the Director (Bill Nighy).

“It was always just the two of us for these roles,” says Spencer, who won an Oscar in 2012 for “The Help.” “We did a Zoom and I was sitting there thinking, ‘I hope she says yes.’”

In “Ride or Die,” Spencer plays Debbie, a lawyer and wife of a British politician, who is best friends with secret assassin Judith, played by Waddingham. (Dusan Martincek / Prime)

“It’s Octavia Spencer and I’m thinking, ‘Be cool, be cool,’” Waddingham chimes in. “Octavia and Tessa start telling me the plot and at the end I said, ‘Who the hell are you going to get to play Judith?’ Octavia’s face filled the whole screen and she said, ‘We want to make you Judith, dummy.’”

Each professes to be a fan of the other, but Spencer is particularly effusive. She admits to initially having to remind herself that Waddingham is, in fact, an actual person and not Rebecca Welton, her character on “Ted Lasso.” She turns to her co-star. “We know you’re a brilliant comedian, but you also showed us in ‘Game of Thrones’ this depth,” Spencer tells Waddingham, adding, “With her beauty and that statuesque presence she has, this role was literally written with a woman of her caliber in mind.”

Waddingham turns red. “I’m not good when she does this,” she admits.

“Well, it’s very true,” Spencer responds. “I think it was kismet. I knew it was meant to be when we were at the upfronts for Amazon and we were in the wings with Will Ferrell and Reese Witherspoon, just chatting it up. I’ve always had severe stage fright. They walked out and I got really quiet, centered myself, and then I felt these arms around me. She wrapped me up from behind, and it was like, ‘OK, I’m good.’ That’s what it has felt like this entire process.”

Waddingham’s memory of that day, her second time meeting Spencer after their first call, is slightly different. “Octavia is so established in Hollywood,” she says. “I’m still a newcomer in this town. So I was having the worst impostor syndrome that day. I was thinking, ‘I look like a competition winner.’”

Nerves settled by the time the production started in January 2025. Before joining forces in Prague, Waddingham flew to Ischgl, an Austrian ski town known for its party vibe, to shoot the show’s opening sequence. The James Bond-style scene introduces Judith as talented, serious and a bit of a loner. That perception is quickly upended when the character arrives at Debbie’s home in London for their book club meeting and the duo begin singing along to Salt-N-Pepa’s “Shoop.”

“Octavia is so established in Hollywood,” Waddingham says of meeting her co-star. “I’m still a newcomer in this town.”

(Bexx Francois / For The Times)

“That was our first scene together and we didn’t plan anything or talk about it,” Waddingham says. “But we had an unspoken, organic process.”

“We had a lot of trust,” Spencer adds. “I knew she was going to come in with 1000% and that I was going to too. Some of those things you figure out when you’re on the set and some of those things just happen in the moment.”

Showrunner Matt Miller points to the scene as evidence of the actors’ “instant chemistry.”

“It really feels like this is a friendship that has endured 25 years from the moment they get on screen,” Miller says, speaking with Coates over video call later. “From the second you see them dancing around, you’re like, ‘Oh yeah, these two are best friends.’”

Coates and Miller wanted to ensure that the characters’ history was baked into the scripts. They’ve been friends for decades, so there had to be a shorthand between them that was immediately apparent and they had to be on equal footing. The duo are forced on the run across Europe, dogged by their past, and successfully get themselves out of danger.

“These characters came from a great desire to see women like this on screen,” Coates says. “So many stories suggest aging is the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. But what if getting older seemed really cool and you got wiser and better at your job and gave less of a s— about things?”

Coates adds they wanted both characters to be competent and clever women who happen to be thrown into difficult circumstances.

“Women in their 50s are just as capable, just as beautiful, just as sexy,” Spencer says. “We’re just aging.”

Spencer and Waddingham, both executive producers on the series, never sought top billing over the other. Although the show is ostensibly an action comedy, they wanted to ground it in real emotions. Everything is tethered to this friendship.

“Women in their 50s are just as capable, just as beautiful, just as sexy,” Octavia Spencer says. “We’re just aging.”

(Bexx Francois / For The Times)

“There couldn’t be one more important than the other,” Waddingham says. “The thing they say about relationships is that when one is at 90 and the other is at 10, or one is at 80 and the other is at 20. That’s what this had to be straight away. If you have that pendulum back and forth, you can create magic.”

Although both characters find small romances throughout the story, men are sidelined for the far more important relationship: their own. And it’s not always an easy partnership between them.

“There is a love story at the center of this,” Spencer says. “It’s not a romantic love story, but it is a familial relationship. It’s contentious, and the relationship is fractious at points.”

Waddingham adds, “You have to be able to call each other out, and then get through that storm and let the water settle.”

Still, there is a lot of action in “Ride or Die.” Judith frequently kicks ass, often taking on groups of imposing men. It’s deeply satisfying to watch Waddingham, who did most of her own stunt work, take these men down.

“In theater, I never had an alternate,” she explains. “I’m not usually Method, but with this I thought my exhaustion from fighting and the stunt training would lend itself to Judith’s exhaustion and her frailty. It wasn’t particularly healthy, if I’m honest, but that fractured tiredness really helped play the role.”

She adds, “It’s a real art form. The first stunt work I did was on ‘The Fall Guy’ and learning to stop before you punch someone in the face is hard.”

“That’s why I was terrified for you,” Spencer interjects. “Because I did punch somebody in the face. The only other time that I actually had to do stunts was on ‘Snowpiercer.’ It was so exciting watching you, but then I was like, ‘Somebody could hit her for real.’”

Waddingham felt added pressure knowing Judith’s background. “She’s not just an assassin, she’s a notorious assassin of 30 years,” she says. “If you see her punching someone, like when we’re running out of the gala, that punch can’t be some girly thing. You have to believe she can do it perfectly and effortlessly.”

Waddingham did much of her own stunt work in “Ride or Die.” “It’s a real art form. The first stunt work I did was on ‘The Fall Guy’ and learning to stop before you punch someone in the face is hard.”

(Bexx Francois / For The Times)

Both actors approached the show with complete dedication. Waddingham and Spencer appear in almost every scene, which vacillate between action, comedy and drama. Debbie, named after Coates’ mother, feels betrayed by Judith and her husband, who is involved in shady dealings with an Albanian gang. “There were the rigors of it physically, but there was also the emotional rigor of it,” Waddingham says.

“It might have been the most challenging job that I’ve ever done,” Spencer agrees. “The most challenging, but also the most gratifying. I knew I would not be called upon to do any stunt sequences, but I did have physical stuff I needed to do. And then dealing with the emotional weight of Debbie discovering that two very important relationships are not at all what she thought they were was a lot.”

She pauses. “But you know what, why not?” she continues. “We don’t want to be in a comfortable place all the time. You want to know you completed something that was very difficult to do. I feel very proud now, looking back.”

“We couldn’t have left our hearts and our bodies and our brains on it any more than we did,” Waddingham agrees. “It is splattered with us. I’ve been very privileged to go from ‘Ted Lasso’ to this, because ‘Ted’ is a very hard act to follow in terms of that constant and emotional push and pull. This has that as well.”

While filming “Ride or Die,” Waddingham found out Apple TV had greenlit a fourth season of “Ted Lasso,” which premieres Aug. 5. She wasn’t expecting to be pulled back to her Emmy-winning role of Rebecca after the series ostensibly concluded in 2023. “I didn’t know anything about it,” she says. “No clue.”

“We found that out together,” Spencer says.

Waddingham had only two weeks off after wrapping “Ride or Die” before flying to Kansas to film the first episode of Season 4, which sees Rebecca attempting to lure Jason Sudeikis’ Ted back to London to coach Richmond’s women’s soccer team. The rest of the series then shot in England. The new episodes keep Rebecca as one of the emotional cores of the show.

“I haven’t really stopped since then,” Waddingham says. “When I’m older, I’m going to have a little sleep. But this is what you wait for in your life.”

For Spencer, “Ride or Die” has raised the bar on what type of project she wants to do as a producer and as an actor.

“It is hard to get things made,” Spencer says. “I don’t have time to do things just for a paycheck. It has to resonate with me because your time and health are your most valuable commodities, and time is something that you have no control over. As an artist, I want to be fulfilled and when you get a project like this now everything has to compare. I’ve learned to be very discerning.”

She gestures to Waddingham. “Don’t you want to be excited about things?” she asks.

“Yes,” Waddingham agrees. “And it just doesn’t happen very often. But this was remarkable from the beginning. To be able to spend a couple of days together right now and regroup, it’s almost like a therapy session. We’ve had distance to reflect on all the good and all the exhausting, and on what we have created together. I know that neither of us will ever forget this.”

Spencer nods. “It is a dream. I feel very fortunate that we get to look for projects like this for ourselves and have an active voice in procuring those things for ourselves and for other people. But you dream it, and then you get something like this, and it surpasses everything you ever thought you could want.”

In the latest episode of “The De Los Podcast,” actor and comedian Fabrizio Guido spoke with hosts Fidel Martinez and Suzy Exposito about his role in the Netflix series “Running Point” — as well as being a part of a new wave of young Latino Hollywood stars and how he got his start in the stand-up comedy world.

Having grown up in L.A. himself, Guido talked about owning the persona of “Running Point” character Jackie Moreno: a concession-worker-turned-executive-assistant from Boyle Heights.

“I just felt I had all the tools necessary to bring this character to life,” Guido said. “It was a really important opportunity for people to see this side of L.A. … to get to know that kid that you see on the street or at the mall [and say] ‘Oh, that guy reminds me of Jackie.’”

Part of the appeal of the character was the chance to “showcase how much heart L.A. has.”

Alongside actors like Xolo Maridueña, Keyla Monterroso Mejia, Isabela Merced and Jenna Ortega, Guido is part of a new class of young Latinos taking Hollywood by storm — something the “Running Point” star said is “an honor.”

“It can be isolating if you’re the only Latino on a set,” Guido shared. “So to have peers that share a similar upbringing as you — you walk away with a friendship most of the time because you have stuff in common.”

He also mentioned that the bump in Latino talent has led to diversity in roles within the community.

“For the longest time, it could’ve been stereotypical — the only things Latino could play,” Guido said. “For the first time we’re starting to see this emergence of what it means for each one of us to be Latino. I’m bringing my experience to the table, Keyla is bringing her experience to the table, Xolito is bringing his. We’re not going by what the industry thinks Latino is, we’re bringing what we think Latino is.”

But beyond the acting world, Guido has also tackled the stand-up comedy scene in recent years.

He shared that he got his first gig thanks to comedian Gabriel Iglesias, who he worked with on the Netflix sitcom “Mr. Iglesias.” The arena comic convinced Guido to do a five-minute set — which Guido worked on for two weeks — at the Brea Improv.

“I got on stage, did my first joke and was super nervous,” he said. “Second joke did really well and it afforded me enough time to get present and then I ran through my five minutes, got off stage a different person. I knew I was in love. I felt like something in my life had shifted in that moment and I’ve been in love with stand-up ever since.”

Death in Paradise has seen a number of faces come and go over the years, but fans are now calling for change.

Fans of the BBC show are calling for a change in future series.

Currently, the long-running crime drama is filming its 16th season as the Death in Paradise cast are sharing glimpses of their time behind-the-scenes.

While the likes of Don Gilet, Shantol Jackson and shaquille Ali-Yebuah are reprising their roles, viewers are keen to see some other familiar faces on the programme have more of a staple role.

On a Reddit thread, one person asked: “Apart from Selwyn and Catherine, have there been any other recurring characters in DiP? As in, are there Saint Marie residents who have been brought back in subsequent seasons?

“I’m not really referring to characters who are brought in for multiple episodes to fulfil a storyline (such as Sophie for Neville, or Mervin’s brother, for instance).

People were quick to share their thoughts on the matter, highlighting that the taxi driver is a frequent character alongside the ambulance staff that appear in certain episodes, reports the Express.

One fan replied: “See, that makes me wonder why they haven’t made him sort of a character instead of just an extra. He could add some local flavour to the show. Give us a better sense of island life, if you know what I mean.”

Another chimed in: “I was thinking of him too (the taxi man), but he feels more like a background extra than a proper “character” most of the time tbh. Still wild how a tiny island somehow has infinite one-episode guest stars but almost no regulars.”With someone else adding: “YES. This is what I mean. Why are there barely any locals? It would give the series some depth and breadth.”

Over the years, Death in Paradise devotees have watched a steady stream of familiar faces arrive and depart on the fictional Caribbean island of Sainte Marie.

A host of detectives have led the show, including DI Richard Poole (Ben Miller), DI Humphrey Goodman (Kris Marshall), DI Jack Mooney (Ardal O’Hanlon), DI Neville Parker (Ralf Little) and most recently DI Mervin Wilson (Don Gilet).

Yet it is only Commissioner Selwyn Patterson (played by Don Warrington) and Catherine Bordey (played by Élizabeth Bourgine) who have featured in the BBC series since its very first series back in 2011.

Sadly, fans may have to exercise some patience before finding out whether their wishes are granted, as the current series remains in production, with the cast currently out in the Caribbean shooting season 16.

Earlier this year, it was announced that the show had been recommissioned for a further two series and two Christmas specials.

Death in Paradise is available to watch on BBC iPlayer

“Writers are always selling somebody out,” Joan Didion once wrote. She was talking about journalists, but it can be just as true of novelists. Whether the genre is romantasy or autofiction, making up stories often demands making up stories about real people — exploiting them — to serve a narrative purpose.

Cali Adeline’s debut novel, “People Watching in the Desert,” gives this thorny ethical business an impressively complex treatment for a book that comes on like a beach read. Sonny, its hero, has checked into Sanctuary, a spendy Phoenix-area resort, for an extended stay. She’s 25 and unemployed, and it’s unclear at first how she acquired the funds to splurge on an on-site cottage with a pool, 90-minute massages, and various forced-fun adventures. It’s also unclear why she chose a five-star resort for the splurging, given her discomfort with everything from the menu on down. Sitting down for dinner alone, she “discreetly googled some of the words on her phone under the table: cotija, calabacitas, tabbouleh, bisque.”

Adeline lays out a breadcrumb trail that eventually reveals that Sonny has lugged some especially heavy personal baggage to Sanctuary. Her neglectful, addict mom died when she was a child, only to be replaced with a repressive, overprotective grandmother who stomped on her every ambition. Early adulthood has been defined by failed relationships and uninspiring work. People are to be feared: She’d sooner indulge in croquettes at the resort’s cocktail party than make small talk with other vacationers, and when she braves the world outside her cottage it’s usually with a notebook in her hand.

The early pages of “People Watching” weave Sonny’s perspective with brief sketches of her fellow resort-goers, which usually open with godlike authority: “Allana was ten feet tall and beautiful.” “Chloe and Mark had been married for seven blissful years.” “Dale was invisible. He had that way about him.” The odd bluntness of these statements, combined with their touches of surreality (“ten feet tall”?), makes clear that these mini-bios are scribblings from Sonny’s notebook. Terrified of the world, but determined to better understand what she’s been excluded from for so long, she’s determined to imagine her way into reality.

Sonny’s Walter Mitty-like imaginings do some valuable double duty in the novel. For one thing, they offer some necessary conflict in a setting that’s all about relieving tension. Resorts are, almost by definition, boring, but as Sonny hangs out poolside or does yoga or endures a singing bowl, her mind (and the novel) is reeling with imagined infidelities, deaths, gambling debts and other domestic dramas. Second, her sketches serve as character-defining examples of projection on Sonny’s part, as her observations of others reveal her own concerns about love, sex, money and rejection.

And, of course, she’s deflecting, too — better to make up drama about others than confront her own. The memories Sonny eventually surfaces are more potent than anything she makes up. But they’re also crueler, and you can understand why she’ll think and write about anything but. She recalls a time as a child when she was neglected for days on end and braved a trip to a neighbor for help. “The woman asked Sonny when the last time she took a bath or changed her clothes was and Sonny didn’t know the answer. Her only response was, ‘I’m four,’ as she proudly held up five fingers,” Adeline writes. “She was three.”

Remember the words “beach read” up there? It’s not difficult to predict how Sonny’s arc will curve: It’s a Walter Mitty story, but also an Ugly Duckling story. That notebook full of mini-dramas becomes a source of drama in itself. Say, that bartender is pretty cute, isn’t he? And Sonny eventually integrates with a few of her fellow resort-goers, and learns there’s more to them in reality than her imaginings. As one character gently chastises her, “People can surprise you, Sonny, but you have to let them.”

The pat-ness of Sonny’s Sanctuary journey makes her yet another entry in an evolving genre you might call “Is This Character Concussed?” In these novels, the main character has been so absurdly addled by a (late-revealed) trauma that everyday human interactions are wildly aglow with (at first) terror or (later) manic-pixie wonder. Prime examples include Gail Honeyman’s “Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine,” Sayaka Murata’s “Convenience Store Woman,” and multiple characters in the oeuvre of Sally Rooney and Ottessa Moshfegh. (Women are the most common character in these books, but guys can play too: See Fredrik Backman’s “A Man Called Ove.”) Socially awkward characters offer an opportunity for dry humor and deadpan prose. Because these stories have to dramatize a search for normalcy, its leads tend to be awkward in ways that strain credulity.

But you don’t have to wholly buy into the idea of a character like Sonny to find something intriguing about what Adeline is saying about storytelling throughout “People Watching.” In Sonny’s notebook, every observation is a moral choice, a mini-essay about what proper conduct is, what failure is, how you might get past it, and what our responsibilities to others might be. A notebook is a place of wish fulfilment, and a place for vengeance. Sonny explains at one point that she only started to get free of her grandmother’s clutches once she was capable of imagining her violently erased:

“I wrote a story. About her. And how one day while I was at work the house caught fire. Which wasn’t that far-fetched because the whole place really was a fire hazard. And … and … well, she was asleep inside the house, in the story, and didn’t make it out. I didn’t mean it. I was angry. And it was a story.”

Adeline stresses the word “story” three times in one brief passage. Sonny wants to reassure everybody that she was just making it up. But no writer is, not entirely.

Athitakis is a writer in Phoenix and author of “The New Midwest.”

SACHA Baron Cohen has brought back the iconic Ali G character at Wimbledon ahead of a new film.

Sacha, 54, first played faux-streetwise poseur from Staines in 1998 on The 11 O’Clock Show before landing his own series, Da Ali G Show.

Sacha last played Ali G in 2014 but at the men’s singles final at Wimbledon on Sunday, the star resurrected the character.

Sitting in Centre Court, Ali wore a Wimbledon-coloured tracksuit with the motif ‘Official Ganja Dealer’ on the back, hat, heavy gold chain and glasses, Sacha sported his alter ego‘s facial hair, and attitude.

Ali also joined Instagram to share videos from the tournament and said: “I iz BACK!

“And if u iz at dis borin wimbledore final lookin 2 get grand slammed, I iz here wif de hookup.  dm me, especially if u iz fit.”

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He also shared a shot of a DVD of his TV series and wrote: “dm me if u want to buy one of these DVD box sets.

“Me iz got like 10,000 of dem. Dey iz very rare. Free pickup in the northwest surrey area.”

Sacha’s appearance at Wimbledon as Ali G comes as he prepares a new film for his comic creation.

While few details are known at the moment, in July last year, The Sun exclusively revealed pictures of Sacha in character as Ali as he filmed in a Cotswolds zoo park.

A passer-by who saw the filming in ­Chipping Norton, said: “He was with a whole film crew and was in full character.

“He seemed very comfortable in the role. I was amazed, I thought to myself ‘that’s Ali G’.

“He clearly updated Ali G’s ­wardrobe. He’s replaced his tracksuit and skull cap, but he still had gold jewellery and tinted shades.”

As well as Da Ali G Show, which ran for three series until 2004, he also had a film, Ali G Indahouse, in 2002.