The endlessly exploitable Spider-Man is back in “Spider-Noir,” a retro tale set in a recognizable New York in an inconsistent 1933 (to judge by a preponderance of cultural referents). There is a comic-book precedent for this version of the character, called simply the Spider, though research tells me that, costume and superpowers aside, he is different in nearly every respect. I don’t suppose that will be an issue for most of you.
Shot in “authentic” black and white, the eight-episode series, which premieres Monday on MGM+ channel and streams Wednesday on Prime Video, is something of a stunt, but one that offers a reasonable, (imperfectly) period-appropriate approach to the material. (Stylistically, it belongs to a later decade.) An available colorized version, which seems primarily a sop to younger viewers who refuse to watch anything in black and white, works less well, flattening and softening the image, making the special effects look less special, the expressionist photography less expressive and ordinary scenes more artificial. You can probably tell which I’d choose, but you do you.
Nicolas Cage, in his first live-action television role, plays Ben Reilly, a down-at-the-heels private eye, spiking his morning coffee with whiskey helpfully provided by his knowing secretary, Janet (Karen Rodriguez), and barely scraping by on the occasional divorce case. Five years earlier, as the Spider, he was a super-powered guardian of the people; but he gave it up after the love of his life was murdered on the Spider’s account. In this variation, she’s the one who told him that with great power comes great responsibility, that well-worn Marvel homily, quoted in this world as if it were the work of Abraham Lincoln and not Stan Lee. But Reilly, who calls himself a coward and claims to be no hero, regards his mutant abilities as “a part of me I wish never existed. With no power, there’s no responsibility.”
Naturally, in the Spider’s absence, things have gone to pot in Gotham. “The city’s a mess,” says Reilly’s best and only friend, unemployed reporter Joe “Robbie” Robertson (national treasure Lamorne Morris, keeping it real, relatively speaking). “The people could use a hero.”
“Well, I hope they find someone,” says Ben.
Robbie Robertson (Lamorne Morris) is a journalist and Ben Reilly’s best friend.
(Aaron Epstein/Prime)
Nevertheless, you will not be surprised that, much against his will, Reilly will fall into a web, tee-hee, of intrigue; involving the city’s bootlegging crime boss, Silvermane (Brendan Gleeson, serving a full Irish breakfast), whose superpower is that he has very nice hair; Silvermane’s sort-of mistress, femme fatale nightclub singer Cat Hardy (Li Jun Li), a bird in a gilded cage; and Cat’s bodyguard, Flint (Jack Huston), who has gone missing. Nor will it shock you to learn that other super-powered entities will turn up, to give our hero — who soon enough will be swinging through town, somehow never losing the fedora perched atop his masked head — someone his own size to pick on him.
To coin a phrase, some are born super-powered, some become super-powered and some have superpowers thrust upon them, and in every case this comes with a serving of tragedy and trauma, for heroes and villains alike. If there’s a theme to “Spider-Noir,” beyond “make another Spider-Man show,” it’s this, and there’s a spine of sadness that runs through the series, its best and most depressing feature (and, taking “noir” at is word, fitting to the genre).
The photography and production design, achieved through whatever combination of backlot shoots, dressed locations, digital environments and black magic, work better and worse (though never bad) from shot to shot, but Alfred Hitchcock used background projections and model trains, and it’s nice to see Manhattan before those pencil-thin supertowers began polluting the skyline. (It’s the city as King Kong first knew it.)
The pacing can drag at times. The music goes everywhere but the represented period and characters quote lines from movies yet to be released. The writing and the acting boldly flirt with cliche and caricature, which, as the show is about 100% pastiche, drawn from films more than three-quarters of a century old, could scarcely be avoided and isn’t really a problem. (In a way, it’s the point.) You may spot a scene pinched from Orson Welles’ “The Lady From Shanghai,” narrative echoes of “Casablanca,” a line playing off James Cagney’s final words in “White Heat,” just off the top of my head.) But the overall what and why of the story is clever and the conclusion satisfying.
Cage, who voiced a different version of the “Spider-Noir” character in the animated “Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse,” is a good choice for the weary gumshoe. (The series is about 75% detective story, 25% superhero) Metafictionally, he’ll bust out an Edward G. Robinson imitation, mouth Cagney dialogue sitting alone at the movies. But the main model is Humphrey Bogart, whose looks Cage’s recall more than a little; Bogart played Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe in the films most associated with those characters, whose mordant humor creator-writer Oren Uziel seeks to replicate here, with fair success. One can forget that Cage, who finds a middle way between doing a bit and playing a person, is a good comic actor, and not merely a weirdo.
Eight years after going off the air, “Sofia the First” is getting another opportunity to find out what being royal is all about.
Disney’s first preschool princess returns for a new set of adventures in “Sofia the First: Royal Magic” premiering Monday on Disney Jr. The following day, eight episodes will stream on Disney+.
The sequel series finds Sofia — once again voiced by Ariel Winter — leaving home to attend the Charmswell School for Royal Magic. Rapunzel makes a guest appearance in the premiere episode and Moana, Jasmine, Cinderella, Aurora and Elena of Avalor will all stop by over the course of the first season.
According to Disney, “Sofia the First” still holds the record for the top three cable TV telecasts for girls ages 2 to 5 with more than 3 billion hours watched since the series premiered. The trailer for “Sofia the First: Royal Magic” was viewed 7.54 million times on social media in the first 24 hours after it was released. The show’s theme song, which has been updated for the new series, remains popular on TikTok among teens who first watched the show as preschoolers.
Series creator and executive producer Craig Gerber says the show’s tone is one of the reasons for its enduring popularity. “The charm, the humor and the storytelling was simple enough for [children] to understand, but sophisticated enough to stick with them as they were growing out of the key demographic,” he says. “They remember [the show] very fondly and it becomes a source of comfort for them.”
Rapunzel makes an appearance in the premiere episode of “Sofia the First: Royal Magic.”
(Disney)
Originally there were discussions to have a spin-off series with a whole new set of characters going to Royal Prep, the school Sofia graduated from in the first series. But soon Gerber realized that a sequel series was the way to go because of the love for the character. “It became clear that the real exciting part of coming back to this world would be to follow the further adventures of Sofia and bring her to a new audience,” he says.
Sending Sofia to a new school was the obvious choice. “We thought it would be very exciting and fresh for her to go to a school where she could focus on learning magic and mastering the powers inside her,” Gerber says. “In the first series, she learned what being royal is all about. In this series, she’s going to learn what being the most magical princess is all about.”
Winter was 12 years old when she auditioned for the role 15 years ago. At the time, she said Sofia’s voice was close to her own — what she thought she would sound like if she were a princess. But even all these years later, it was easy for her to find the voice again because she never really stopped doing it.
“If people told me that they had a child who loved Sofia, I would be like, ‘Oh, do you want me to make a voice recording for them?’ I’d make at least one of these a week, maybe more,” she says. “The show meant so much to me and I know it meant so much to so many people. To know that I am going to get to help influence another generation of kids in a positive way is just so exciting.”
In addition to Winter, all of the original cast is returning, including Sara Ramirez as Sofia’s mother Queen Miranda, Darcy Rose Byrnes as Sofia’s stepsister Amber, Wayne Brady as her beloved rabbit Clover, Eric Stonestreet as her flying horse Minimus and Tim Gunn as the castle steward Baileywick.
But a whole new series and location also means new characters. Here’s a look at three of the new characters who will be entering Sofia’s world.
Eden Espinosa as Zandrya
Eden Espinosa voices Zandrya, the new villain in “Royal Magic.”
(Disney)
Broadway star Eden Espinosa, perhaps best known for playing Elphaba in “Wicked,” will be voicing the new villain Zandrya. “She is loud, bratty, confident and powerful,” Espinosa says.
“We wanted Zandrya to have that entitled air,” Gerber says. “As if all of the magic should just be given to her and she shouldn’t even really have to work for it. She is a sorceress that is after magical items to give her more power. And because Sofia is becoming more and more confident in her magical abilities, Zandrya has a hard time getting what she wants.”
As master of disguise, Zandrya takes a different form each time she appears in an episode — the better to fool Sofia and get her hands on the magic amulet. That means Espinosa, who also voiced the Queen of Hearts in Disney’s “Alice in Wonderland Bakery” and Cassandra on “Tangled,” gets to take on a new voice with each new episode.
“She’s the most fun character to play,” she says. “Voiceover has always been a dream of mine ever since I saw ‘Little Mermaid’ when I was I think 10.”
Espinosa says Zandrya is “the most fun character to play.” The actor has to take on a new voice whenever her villain takes on a different form.
(Disney)
As in the original series, music will play a big part in “Sofia the First: Royal Magic.” In fact, there will be twice as many songs, with each 11-minute episode getting its own number. “What I love about the songs I’ve gotten the privilege to sing is that they feel current,” Espinosa says. “They feel like it’s on the pulse of what’s happening now. They are bops. The challenge is I have to sing the songs in the voice that I’m in for that episode.”
“We’re very lucky to work with folks like Eden, who can take any personality, any voice and still manage to hit all the notes and convey the acting and and really give a fun, rollicking performance,” Gerber says.
And, like Elphaba, Zandrya might be a little misunderstood. “I think as humans we have all sorts of things going on underneath the surface,” Espinosa says. “While she has a very clear mission and intention, I do know that she has moments in interacting with Sofia that she has reflections that make her think.”
Yvette Nicole Brown as Lady Saddlespur
Yvette Nicole Brown voices Lady Saddlespur, Sofia’s new teacher.
(Disney)
Yvette Nicole Brown is one of Gerber’s go-to performers. She’s been the voice of Chief Faye Fireson on “Firebuds” and Luna on “Elena of Avalor.” So it was an easy yes for Brown when Gerber asked her to be the voice of Sofia’s new magical creature teacher and flying derby coach Lady Saddlespur.
“If I’m doing a show, I’m gonna find room for her,” Gerber says of Brown. “Lady Saddlespur is a fun foil for the kids as she pushes them to be better students.”
“She is a Southern belle,” Brown says of her onscreen alter-ego.“She’s very proper. She believes that everything at Charmswell should be done just so.”
Brown says her favorite part of animation is that it encourages her to tap into her child-like side. “When we were kids, we lived in this place of wonder,” she says. “I remember the first shows I watched. I remember ‘Captain Kangaroo,’ ‘Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood’ and ‘Sesame Street.’ Those performers have stayed with me my entire life. The honor of getting to be one of the first voices that these babies hear is everything.”
Brown is also delighted by the life lessons the show imparts. “Lessons about accountability, sharing, kindness, regulating your emotions and following directions. The importance of school and learning and being careful and gentle with animals and other people and their feelings. I think it’s a great stepping stone for the babies to learn how to be productive, caring members of society, which is what we’re all supposed to be trying to be.”
Pepper is Sofia’s pet puppy-unicorn. Nate Torrence, who is also the voice of Clawhauser in the “Zootopia” movies, says nothing sounds more adorable than “the collab of a puppy and unicorn.”
Gerber has wanted to create such a character since the original series. “He’s there for comic relief to a large degree,” Gerber says. “And also to give us that little bit of daily magic because Sofia can talk to animals.”
“He’s a pretty lovable guy,” Torrence says. “Even though he plays a little air-headed, he actually is really witty. It’s that old-school Abbott and Costello kind of timing or Charlie Chaplin because there’s so much physical comedy going on with Pepper.”
Because he’s getting to voice a character for so many episodes, Torrence says he’s felt more growth with Pepper than many of the other characters he’s played. “I do think they’ve allowed my voice to be a new kind of voice in the world,” he says. “I get to have a bit more attitude and sass. To be a part of a franchise like this is a nice little dream come true for me.”
Few would contend that Lerner and Loewe’s “Brigadoon” and Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Flower Drum Song” represent the best work of these legendary duos.
Unlike Lerner and Loewe’s eternally popular “My Fair Lady,” “Brigadoon” hasn’t had a Broadway revival since 1980. “Flower Drum Song,” relegated to the shadows of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Oklahoma!” and “South Pacific,” didn’t last long when it received its first and only Broadway revival in 2002.
I assumed nostalgia was fueling the desire to give these Golden Age musicals a makeover. But when I sat in the audience for these shows and fell immediately under the spell of their scores, I had a different answer.
The music makes a case for why “Brigadoon,” now in a soaring revival at Pasadena Playhouse, and “Flower Drum Song,” making a less assured reemergence at the Aratani Theatre in Little Tokyo, should live again. I was particularly skeptical of “Brigadoon,” with its airy-fairy book and heavy dose of romantic hokum, but the Broadway-level production at Pasadena Playhouse may be the best local staging of a musical I’ve seen in my 20 years covering the scene for The Times.
Kylie Victoria Edwards and Daniel Yearwood in “Brigadoon” at Pasadena Playhouse.
(Jeff Lorch)
I knew both musicals principally from their film adaptations. I missed David Henry Hwang‘s original rewrite of “Flower Drum Song,” which was a storied success at the Mark Taper Forum in 2001 but fared less favorably when it moved to New York the following year. I suppose I first saw “Brigadoon” as a kid at my grandmother’s house, amused at the way she goofily sang along. When I recently watched both movies again, it was like falling into a musical comedy time warp.
The enduring love for these Broadway shows isn’t just about the standards they have bequeathed to the American songbook. It’s also about the yearning for a more optimistic era of musical storytelling, when goodness could be counted on to prevail and a happy ending might be delayed but only rarely denied.
“Brigadoon,” a romantic fantasy about two Americans who stumble upon a mystical Scottish village that magically comes to life for a single day once every 100 years, might seem to be irredeemably old-fashioned. The show, which premiered on Broadway in 1947, was Lerner and Loewe’s first hit after a string of flops and fizzles. Without the success of “Brigadoon,” “My Fair Lady,” “Camelot” and the movie musical “Gigi” might never have happened.
Betsy Morgan and Max von Essen in “Brigadoon” at Pasadena Playhouse.
(Jeff Lorch)
But how do you solve a problem like Alan Jay Lerner’s book, written for a sensibility markedly more wholesome than our own? Enter playwright Alexandra Silber, whose fresh adaptation works for the most part remarkably well. There are a few lumpy patches, moments when the revision over-explains itself or belabors a point. But the way Tommy Albright (Max Von Essen) and Jeff Douglas (Happy Anderson), the accidental American intruders, have been modernized is a fizzy delight.
Imagine if Vincente Minnelli’s screen version of “Brigadoon,” starring Gene Kelly and Van Johnson, was remade with Paul Rudd and John Goodman, and you’ll have some idea of the comic chemistry here. But I should preface this thought exercise by first extolling the musical theater prowess of Von Essen, who received a Tony nomination for his work in “An American in Paris” and has a voice that could make the angels swoon. Less is required of Anderson’s jaded, booze-sodden Jeff, but this smart-alecky sidekick is re-imagined with crackling comic vitality.
The production, directed and choreographed by Katie Spelman, saves its most assertive interventions for its female characters. Fiona MacLaren (Betsy Morgan), the unmarried heroine who catches Tommy’s amorous eye, still falls heedlessly in love but not before correcting some of her American suitor’s chauvinistic assumptions. Morgan might overdo Fiona’s fiery streak when she sings “Waitin’ For My Dearie,” but the driving impulse is to bring the musical’s out-of-time female characters into the 21st century.
“Brigadoon” ensemble at Pasadena Playhouse.
(Jeff Lorch)
Meg Brockie (Donna Vivino), no longer the town floozie single-mindedly out to bed Jeff, is now the proprietor of Brockie’s Pub and the keeper of Brigadoon’s traditional language and culture. She’s still a sensual wrecking ball, but she’s too formidable to be treated as comic relief.
Silber has transformed Mr. Lundie, Brigadoon’s schoolmaster and moral guide, into Widow Lundie. The casting of the great Tyne Daly in the role is reason enough to make the gender switch, but it’s all part of a recalibration of the values of this theatrical world.
The dynamism of the singing and dancing smooths out some of the adaptation’s rough edges. Spelman puts her own stamp on Agnes DeMille’s original choreography, which was as integral to the storytelling as the book, lyrics and music.
When Charlie (a phenomenal Daniel Yearwood), a genial groom readying himself for the big wedding day, performs with his buddies “I’ll Go Home With Bonnie Jean,” Pasadena Playhouse erupts in a stomping frenzy of Celtic ecstasy. And Yearwood’s gorgeous rendition of “Come to Me, Bend to Me” is so seductive, it’s no wonder that Jean (Kylie Victoria Edwards), Fiona’s sister, has chosen to marry him.
“Brigadoon” ensemble at Pasadena Playhouse.
(Jeff Lorch)
All, however, is not idyllic in time-forgotten Brigadoon. Casting a pall over the nuptials, Harry Beaton (Spencer Davis Milford), hopelessly in love with Jean, threatens to destroy Brigadoon’s miracle by leaving the town for good.
Silber deepens Harry’s character and gives his story more emotional weight. (Milford manages to be both convincingly menacing and pitiably heartbroken.) The movie tweaked Harry’s fatal ending, but the adaptation does something even more striking with his desperation. The change is absorbed naturally by the musical, even if the funeral dance that Maggie (Jessica Lee Keller) elaborately performs might be more moving on a reduced scale.
The adaptation doesn’t always get the dramatic proportions right. When Jeff bares his soul to Tommy after the two are back on barstools in New York, the revelation that he is a heartsick widower complicates our understanding of a character originally conceived as a cynical bachelor. But Silber tries to extract too much sympathy from the exchange and stops the action when it should be moving rapidly toward its big finish.
Marc Oka, foreground, and Esther Lee, from left, Gemma Pedersen, Ai Toyoshima, Sally Hong, Hillary Tang and Emma Park in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Flower Drum Song,” produced by East West Players and the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center.
(Mike Palma)
But nothing can derail the success of this extraordinary production, the high watermark so far of Pasadena Playhouse producing artistic director Danny Feldman’s ongoing reexamination of the American musical canon. Jason Sherwood’s ravishing scenic design, full of eye-catching texture and lush density, makes it impossible not to dream along with the characters. Even the stage curtain, graced with Brigadoon’s floral insignia, is a work of art.
A 22-piece orchestra, under the music supervision of Darryl Archibald, draws out the all the sublime color of Frederick Loewe’s music. Most spectacularly, the blend of Von Essen’s lyric baritone and Morgan’s assertive soprano gives eternal life to Tommy and Fiona’s numbers. Hearing “The Heather on the Hill,” “Almost Like Being in Love” and “From This Day On” in the majestic intimacy of Pasadena Playhouse is a memory that will last at least a lifetime.
It’s a bit harder to judge this update of “Flower Drum Song,” which is Hwang’s second crack at revising the book, originally written by Oscar Hammerstein II and Joseph Fields. A co-production between East West Players and the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center, the revival doesn’t have the resources of Pasadena Playhouse’s “Brigadoon” and likely doesn’t have the same goals.
Ai Toyoshima, from left, Brian Shimasaki Liebson, Grace Yoo and Scott Keiji Takeda in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Flower Drum Song,” produced by East West Players and the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center.
(Mike Palma)
The musical, which premiered on Broadway in 1958, was groundbreaking for the way it provided a showcase for Asian American performers. Henry Koster’s 1961 studio film adaptation followed suit with an even greater reach. The intention was to create musical theater entertainment built around generational conflict — a longstanding device of romantic comedy. But here the clash involves immigrants in San Francisco trying to reconcile traditional Chinese culture and modern American life.
Stereotypes, however, prevailed, leaving a community at once grateful for representation and uncomfortable with the reinforcement of old tropes. Hwang (author of the Tony Award-winning “M. Butterfly”) set out to re-imagine the characters from the perspective of a contemporary Asian American dramatist nearly 25 years ago. But times continue to change along with cultural sensitivities, and he wanted to revisit his work for East West Players’ 60th anniversary season.
Directed by EWP artistic director Lily Tung Crystal, who is of Chinese heritage, the production is on a quest for a deeper authenticity. This mission is to provide a more genuine reflection of Asian American experience — community members speaking directly to fellow community members.
Grace Yoo, left, and Scott Keiji Takeda in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Flower Drum Song,” produced by East West Players and the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center.
(Mike Palma)
The production is most effective when the actors are singing, especially Grace Yoo, who plays Mei-Li and had me entranced the moment she started singing “A Hundred Million Miracles.” Don’t let the traditional flower drum she totes around fool you. She’s no longer the quietly obedient daughter of authority. Having fled communism, she has arrived in the U.S. without papers and (unlike the original) her father, and isn’t too keen on anyone dictating to her what she can and cannot do.
Scott Keiji Takeda, who plays Ta, Mei-Li’s reluctant inamorato, has a sumptuous voice that captures the hues of Richard Rodgers’ music. But unfortunately his wooden characterization raises questions about what exactly Mei-Li sees in him.
There’s a tension between the update’s good intentions and the tendency of musical comedy to traffic in amusing caricatures. (Exaggeration and simplification are par for the course.) In trying to root out offensive Asian American stereotypes, Hwang imports swishing stereotypes for laughs in his creation of a new character, Harvard (Kenton Chen), who works at the theater owned by Ta’s father and seems a throwback to the campy, wisecracking gay characters that were a staple of 1980s big-budget movie comedies. Harvard may get a more empowering storyline than his florist-hairdresser-retail-clerk predecessors, but the humor is redolent of the same punishing cliches.
Krista Marie Yu in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Flower Drum Song,” produced by East West Players and the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center.
(Mike Palma)
Emily Kuroda as take-charge producer Madame Liang and Marc Oka as Wang, Ta’s old-school father, throw themselves into the revival with full farcical force. Crystal’s fluid staging, full of agile and vibrant design choices, smoothly maneuvers the action. But earnestness is the enemy of hilarity. Hwang can be very witty, but how can the production let itself go when it’s so often being called upon to make an important point?
Linda Low (Krista Marie Yu), no longer Mei-Li’s rival for Ta’s hand in marriage, is now her ally. When she sings a middling version of “I Enjoy Being a Girl,” the joke isn’t on her but a society that leaves women so few options. The problem is that for Hwang to rebuild Mei-Li and Linda into characters of credible modern-day complexity, he would have to start from scratch, not just retooling the book but commissioning a new score to flesh out his more complicated vision. In other words, leaving Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical behind.
“Brigadoon” manages to transcend time, but this take on “Flower Drum Song” falters between eras.
‘Brigadoon’
Where: Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave.
When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays (5/26), Wednesdays and Fridays; 7 p.m. Thursdays; 2 and 8 p.m. Saturdays; 2 p.m. Sundays and 7:30 p.m. June 14 (closing night).
Tom Kane, a prolific voice actor whose signature roles included Master Yoda in a number of animated “Star Wars” shows as well as Professor Utonium on “The Powerpuff Girls,” has died. He was 64.
Kane died Monday from complications of a stroke he suffered in 2020, his representative Zachery McGinnis confirmed to The Times. The voice actor’s death was announced on social media by his talent agency, Galactic Productions.
“From his unforgettable performances in Star Wars to countless animated series, documentaries, and games, Tom brought wisdom, strength, humor, and heart to every role he touched,” reads a statement posted Monday on Galactic Productions’ Facebook page. “His voice became part of our lives, our memories, and the stories we carry with us. … Though his voice may now be silent, the characters, stories, and love he gave to the world will live on forever.”
Kane first joined the “Star Wars” franchise through video games in the 1990s, voicing droids, Imperial officers and rebel pilots in installments such as “Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire” and “Star Wars: X-Wing vs. TIE Fighter.” He would go on to voice other characters, including the iconic protocol droid C-3PO, Jedi Master Yoda and the bounty hunter Boba Fett, in various games over the years.
He continued to voice Yoda in animated “Star Wars” shows, first in “Star Wars: Clone Wars,” Genndy Tartakovsky’s series set after the events of the 2002 film “Episode II — Attack of the Clones,” in which Kane also voiced C-3PO.
But Kane’s most notable “Star Wars” role was as the narrator of the 2008 film “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” and the subsequent series of the same name, where he kicked off each adventure as the spoken version of the classic “Star Wars” opening crawl to set the stage for the story that followed.
“Tom loved ‘Star Wars,’” Dave Filoni, Lucasfilm’s president and chief creative officer, said in the studio’s tribute to Kane. “Fans may best remember him as the voice of the animated Yoda, but truly his voice was the spirit of the Clone Wars. His opening narration introduced an entire generation to the ‘Star Wars’ galaxy getting viewers ready for another adventure far, far, away.”
“When I was first starting out as a director I was fortunate to have someone as legendary as Tom there to help me learn and guide me towards what the actors needed. Very Yoda like indeed,” Filoni added.
Besides his “Star Wars” roles, Kane’s credits also include the devoted valet Woodhouse in “Archer,” the mutant Magneto in Marvel video games, the prim and proper head of house Mr. Herriman in “Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends” and the flamboyant villain Him in “The Powerpuff Girls.”
Kane said in a 2014 Reddit AMA that “The Powerpuff Girls’” Professor Utonium, who combined sugar, spice and everything nice — along with chemical X — to create the super-powered kindergartners, was the character he most identified with.
“He’s a dorky dad who loves his kids,” Kane wrote in a comment. “That’s pretty much me.”
Tara Strong, who voiced Powerpuff Girl Blossom, described Kane as “Brilliant. Giving. Funny. Supportive. [And] Kind.” in her tribute.
“They say there’s no such thing as a perfect man… those people never met [Tom Kane]. I’ve never in my life met a sweeter soul or a better human being,” Strong wrote in a Monday post on X. “I’m beyond grateful for all the hours we spent together in the booth, and so grateful we got to see him again recently… hug him tight and tell him how much we love and miss him.”
“I love you, Professor. You were the best dad, the best human, and I feel so honored to have known you and called you my friend,” she added.
Born April 15, 1962, in Overland Park, Kan., Kane began his voice acting career at age 15 doing commercials in his hometown of Kansas City, according to IMDb. In addition to his work in games, film and television, Kane has lent his voice to announce awards shows, including the 78th, 80th, 83rd, 84th and 90th Academy Awards broadcasts, as well as on attractions at Disney Theme parks.
“I’m also glad that his characters and voice will live on in many ways,” Filoni said in his tribute. “Wherever you go there’s always a chance that Tom is the voice you hear guiding you through Disneyland or a galaxy far, far away.”
Kane is survived by his wife, Cindy, and their nine children, six of whom joined the family through adoption and fostering.
Nearly 50 years on from “Star Wars” and the launch of a media empire (large or small “e”? You decide), the fandom has become its own galaxy of warring planets. But based on the success of the streaming series “The Mandalorian,” set around the title bounty hunter, we can all agree that his charge Grogu — green, wrinkled, big-eyed Baby You-Know-Who — is still adorable. Of the many “Star Wars” offshoots, this seems to be the sturdiest.
The brand is back together for “The Mandalorian and Grogu,” which is a movie, a hoped-for franchise revival, a fourth season of sorts and an affable throwback. But it’s never quite riveting enough as canon or fodder to supplant anyone’s memories of [insert favorite “Star Wars” film here].
The expectations game was never going to help series creator Jon Favreau’s big-screen version, written with Dave Filoni and Noah Kloor. Granted, this upscaled, agreeably rangy treatment of an adventure storyline that wouldn’t have been out of place on the show could have attempted more. Especially when it puts sci-fi icon Sigourney Weaver in an X-wing pilot uniform as a veteran of the Rebellion, but barely gives her anything to do besides secure Mando a job and keep tabs on his progress. (Gang, try harder. It’s Sigourney Weaver.)
Aimed squarely at kids of all sizes, “Star Wars” has become a glorified tour of a billionaire’s expanding playworld and “The Mandalorian and Grogu” wants the track well-oiled, not bumpy. The simple pleasures here of good vs evil, IMAX hugeness and composer Ludwig Göransson’s space-opera-hits-the-club score, go down easy enough to not be aggravating. It’s a lot.
But it’s not this reviewer’s position to tell you what “a lot” is — loose lips spoil scripts. When the moment comes at an appropriately dangerous time for our heroes, we sense the kind of thing that only movies can do well when they’re myths writ large: slow things down, shift momentum away from the tyranny of exposition and let emotion, humor, wonder and character co-exist. “The Mandalorian and Grogu” takes the series’ thematic underpinnings — what parenting looks like between a masked human loner and an otherworldly toddler — and deepens them.
The movie takes place in wonderfully detailed environments that evoke the earlier, beloved films. You’re not being pandered to, however; the payoff is a lovely echo. Elsewhere, the action set pieces are serviceably handled by Favreau. (One of them plays like, of all things, an homage to “The French Connection.”)
Otherwise, this is another hunt-and-retrieve narrative for the bounty hunter voiced by Pedro Pascal, physically embodied in armor by Brendan Wayne and, in combat, by fight choreographer Lateef Crowder. Still independent but New Republic-curious, Mando is tasked by Weaver’s Col. Ward to find a wayward scion of the slimy gangster Hutt clan, Rotta (voiced by Jeremy Allen White), whose return will unlock some important information. Of course, things don’t go as planned, which for a while is interesting — are the Hutts like the Corleones, perhaps? — until it’s not, because then the dialogue would need to rise above the level of a middle-school play.
That being said, one of the movie’s strong points, absent its story deficiencies, is that, across its many wordless scenes, it’s at heart a solidly rousing, delightfully icky creature feature, in the vein of a supercharged Ray Harryhausen-meets-Guillermo del Toro joint. “It’s a hard world for little things,” Lillian Gish famously says in “The Night of the Hunter,” a movie nobody will ever confuse with “The Mandalorian and Grogu.” But we all know summer fare like this is only ever as enjoyable as the monsters conjured up for conquering.
CANNES, France — Cannes is technically half over and the hunt for a masterpiece continues. Critics on the Croisette are starting to resemble that classic comic-strip panel in which an explorer crawls desperately across the sand toward an oasis that’s only a mirage.
This far into an underwhelming festival, good films have a way of looking like great ones, such as James Gray’s “Paper Tiger,” a grimy thriller with Adam Driver and Miles Teller playing brothers in 1980s New York who get mired in a scheme to sanitize the Gowanus Canal. Driver’s ex-cop knows the codes of cutting deals with the Russian mob; Teller’s engineer is the square who can’t grasp how doing things the right way just makes the situation worse. As the normies, Teller and his naive wife, portrayed by Scarlett Johansson, feel like kids playing dress-up. (Johansson’s perm is a bit much.) Still, the script is tense and tight — and at this point, I’m happy to see anything with a plot.
Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s “The Beloved” has two of them: It’s a film within a film about a famous director (Javier Bardem) who casts his estranged actor daughter (Victoria Luengo) in his latest project. The fictional movie he’s making looks stiff, a period epic about Spain’s colonialist withdrawal from the Sahara in the 1930s, which doubles as a metaphor for the father’s destructive absence from his now-adult child’s life. A boozer, she’s not stable enough to stand up to the scrutiny of his sudden attention. Luengo herself holds the camera splendidly even in her character’s weaker moments, turning her charisma off whenever her father needs her to turn it on.
Consider it a shot and chaser to “Garance,” which stars a vibrantly sloppy Adèle Exarchopoulos as another alcoholic actress. Sharp, smartly paced and entertaining, it’s fantastic until the last stretch, which peters out and then abruptly stops.
One of the festival’s big themes seems to be connection: that we’re all stuck on this rock together and, ultimately, the difference between human and android, man and woman, is moot. At least three movies have someone saying, “That’s life,” with a shrug. The films themselves, however, are lifeless. Worse, they’re long. I can roll with movies that are mostly vibes, but only to a limit — say, 85 minutes.
Sophie Thatcher in the movie “Her Private Hell.”
(Neon)
Nicolas Winding Refn’s “Her Private Hell” is longer than that and the inertia is excruciating. The Danish director of “Drive” hasn’t made a feature film since “Neon Demon” premiered at Cannes in 2016 and this grim fairy tale feels more like a feint than a comeback. A sulky daughter (Sophie Thatcher) skulks around a misty skyscraper with her hot young stepmother (Havana Rose Liu) idly fretting about a murderer named the Leather Man. Down below, an Army private (Charles Melton) hunts the killer. Little happens other than chain-smoking, costume changes and interminable shots of color-shifting strobe lighting splaying across the cast’s cheekbones. Thankfully, Kristine Froseth adds pep as a bimbo who hasn’t yet learned how to talk as leadenly as everyone else.
Too much of the program is made up of tedious movies by beloved Cannes veterans — essentially affirmative action for auteurs. Eight years ago, Hirokazu Kore-eda won the Palme d’Or for “Shoplifters,” a chaotically enchanting portrait of a family of fraudsters. Now, he’s returned with “Sheep in the Box,” a slick and dull story about two grieving parents who adopt a clone of their dead son. “Sheep” aspires for Spielbergian catharsis — one scene seems to consider itself an art-house take on “A.I. Artificial Intelligence” — but the human characters come off as mechanical as the little robot boy. Between the musty setup and saccharine score, it’s the film equivalent of a bowl of stale candies.
Arthur Harari, who co-wrote 2023’s Palme- and Oscar-winning “Anatomy of a Fall,” is here as the director of “The Unknown,” a stilted drama about a sulky male photographer who wakes up in the body of Léa Seydoux after a nameless, wordless one-night stand. You can imagine Brian De Palma running with the sex-contagion idea (or “It Follows” director David Robert Mitchell grumbling that he deserved an inspired-by writing credit). But “The Unknown’s” shape-shifting intrigue stalls out once you realize that none of the characters have a personality to begin with. Who cares what soul is inside each shell if they’re all monotonously slack-faced? “Face/Off” it isn’t.
Léa Seydoux in the movie “The Unknown.”
(Festival de Cannes)
On that note, one emotional highlight to date was the presentation of an unannounced honorary Palme to John Travolta. (Yes, his face-swapping 1997 thriller with Nicolas Cage was in the celebratory montage.) Already bursting with passion to be world-premiering his directorial debut, “Propeller One-Way Night Coach,” Travolta was moved to tears. “Surprise complète!” Travolta gasped, kissing his trophy and blurting, “I was just happy to be here.” Indeed he was, as evident by the jaunty white beret he’d worn for the occasion, which quickly went viral on social media.
Travolta’s infectious enthusiasm carried over into the movie itself, a semi-autobiographical trifle about his childhood love of air travel. Set in 1962, a boy roughly Travolta’s age voyages from New York to Los Angeles on a series of hopping flights with his mother, who is hoping to land a rich husband or a good Hollywood role in that order. The kid’s joy is as stratospheric as the plane; he adores everything but the airline’s chicken cordon bleu. As a nostalgia piece, it’s “A Christmas Story” with a third of the jokes, none of the cynicism and not quite the length to justify itself as a movie. At barely an hour, it skedaddles in time to leave you with a sheepish smile.
Given the choice, I’d prefer to see a truly terrible movie over one that’s merely bland and mediocre. With that context, I’ve been literally raving over “Butterfly Jam,” a film so fundamentally misguided it could almost be the cineaste version of “The Room.”
Set in New Jersey, “Butterfly Jam” is a tale of toxic masculinity among braggadocious Circassian immigrants played by Barry Keoghan, Harry Melling and Riley Keough — actors who, despite their talent and effort here, are too notoriously Irish, English and Graceland-ian to be convincingly a part of a subculture this specific. It’s filmmaker Kantemir Balagov’s fault more than theirs. Despite supposedly arriving to the States as teenagers, the cast don’t even have accents, just dyed jet-black hair. While adamantly miserabilist, it does have a plot or at least one shocking plot point that’s so ghastly it made me giddy. A few scenes later, a pelican switches on a cotton candy machine with its bill, sending hot sugar whirring through the air — seriously — and I nearly applauded in delight.
Woody Harrelson and Kristen Stewart in the movie “Full Phil.”
(Festival de Cannes)
Likewise, a friend warned me against staying up through 2 a.m. for the premiere of Quentin Dupieux’s “Full Phil,” cautioning that it was the worst film they’d ever seen at Cannes in over a decade. But there was no way I’d miss watching Woody Harrelson and Kristen Stewart play a miserable father and daughter on a Parisian vacation, directed by a French oddball who rarely fails to entertain — although this time, he comes close.
The story is simple: The dad flusters, fidgets and whines; the girl gobbles room service as though aspiring to become human foie gras. “Full Phil” took about an hour to reveal its point — that parenthood makes you a glutton for punishment — and the jokes are more gestures at where a joke should be. Still, I support Harrelson and Stewart signing on to a project this cuckoo. Better still, it boasted something in short supply: a satisfying ending. Here’s hoping the festival itself ends stronger too.
Will Ferrell has done the Will Ferrell thing for so long — playing embarrassingly self-absorbed doofuses, both fictional and based on real people — that it’s easy to forget that when it counts, he can still serve as the glue on “Saturday Night Live.”
For his sixth time hosting the show since leaving the cast in 2002, Ferrell had plenty of those doofuses to portray, including a “Nudeman” dad whose underwear are exposed in the rear when he meets his daughter’s boyfriend. But in sketch after sketch on the show, he showed his usual 100% commitment to every character, even when he was playing himself in the monologue doing a bit about an identity mix-up with Red Hot Chili Peppers drummer Chad Smith. (Smith stuck around for the whole show, sitting in with the “SNL” band and playing drums for Paul McCartney.)
Ferrell was an ideal closer for Season 51, which has largely been about developing relatively new talent in the cast, including rising stars Ashley Padilla, Jeremy Culhane and Marcello Hernández. Ferrell gelled with each of them and everybody else, doing the Will Ferrell thing, which still works tremendously well after all these years.
Musical guest Paul McCartney appeared in Ferrell’s monologue and in the mechanic sketch, and performed a new song, “Days We Left Behind,” as well as “Band on the Run” and “Coming Up” at the end of the show while the credits were shown.
After an absence of a few weeks, President Trump (James Austin Johnson) returned, sleepy from his trip to China. After a non-apology for not bringing Vice President J.D. Vance (Culhane) with him, Trump fell asleep on a gold bar from Switzerland before being visited by Epstein (Ferrell), who makes a series of jokes and insinuations about his association with Trump. When Trump bemoans his low approval rating in the 30s, Epstein responds, “The 30s? Gross, call me when it hits 17.” But Epstein, who claims Hell is “really, really hot” and includes Joseph Stalin and John Wayne Gacy, is there to show Trump the future, one in which former Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem (Padilla) is selling vacuum cleaners on the Home Shopping Network and Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth (Colin Jost) and FBI Director Kash Patel (a returning Aziz Ansari) are co-hosting a bro podcast while sharing a giant beer bong. Trump believes the podcast is a signal that by then, the war in Iran will be over. “We came in second,” Epstein assures him. The two then launched into a version of “Just the Two of Us” before almost kissing ahead of launching into “Live from New York… It’s ‘Saturday Night!’”
Even eagle-eyed viewers might have needed a full minute or so to realize that the person on stage delivering the monologue was not actually Will Ferrell but Red Hot Chili Peppers drummer Chad Smith, who has been doing an extended gag for more than a decade about their uncanny resemblance. Ferrell followed, wearing the same gray suit, claiming, “He pushed me down backstage. And I fell hard. Lorne (Michaels) had to give me mouth to mouth.” Ferrell tried to do a hard reset of the monologue but couldn’t get the vibe back. He turned to the audience for questions, but only found McCartney there, who still couldn’t tell the difference between the host and the drummer. Ferrell listed many of the songs that McCartney has written (which weren’t performed on the show this time out), but pointed out that there are a few great songs he didn’t write, including “Timber” featuring Pitbull.
Best sketch of the night: Did you at least check the sprog box on your Rav4?
In a piece that calls itself, “What It Feels Like Talking to a Mechanic,” Ferrell plays an auto expert telling a clueless couple (Day and Padilla) that their vehicle needs a lot of work. But he uses completely foreign terms including “dong rod gasket” and a “camber” that’s out of whack and rotting to describe what’s wrong. Another specialist (Hernández) arrives, who describes the car’s ailments in funny noises and partly in Spanish. “You need a new trans person,” he declares. He also expects them to return every six days and come to his private party. A third mechanic (McCartney) found the steering wheel is on the wrong side and that their “tipsy wispy” is all “dangly goodly.” The absurdity level keeps rising, but it will feel familiar to anyone who’s ever felt like their mechanic is speaking in an entirely different language. The only false step in the sketch is the ending, which goes on on a cheap joke.
Also good: That white flag he was carrying around should have been a tip-off
It’s been a bit shocking how good some of the pre-filmed pieces this season have looked, including this one, a “Lord of the Rings” Midnight Matinee sketch called “Bobbin’s Sacrifice.” It features, with quite good special effects and costumes, a full cast of orcs, elves and dwarves during a castle siege, as well as Ferrell as a little Hobbit-looking halfling named Bobbin who bravely volunteers to destroy a bridge that separates the heroes from the monsters. However, once outside the castle gates, Bobbin proudly declares in song that he’s switching sides. And not just switching, but offering the orcs blueprints of the castle and giving them magic items he stole from his friends. Things don’t end so well for Bobbin, but at least he goes out memorably and with a song in his heart.
‘Weekend Update’ winner: How does one apply to be a Blast Boy?
“Update” traditionally does a joke-off between co-hosts Jost and Michael Che in which each writes jokes the other has to read. This edition wasn’t too surprising: Jost was made to spew racist jokes about black vampires (in reference to “Sinners”) and using his Staten Island Ferry to ship Black people “back to the motherland.” Che was made to make light of molestation claims against Michael Jackson. The segment ended up being one of the weaker joke-offs, ending with the threat of Jost getting his hair cut off by a barber on live television (it didn’t happen). Surprisingly, the joke-off was not as funny as Culhane’s return as Mr. On Blast, a guy with takes that are far from hot. Example: “AI? More like P.U.” “Metaverse? Why don’t you go read a Bible verse?” Mr. On Blast punctuates his weak jokes with very entertaining dance moves punctuated with sound effects. This time out, the character deployed a new catch phrase, “Devout!” in reference to being both Christian and Jewish, and he brought out bearded backup dancers called Blast Boys. Culhane was on point and is a lock to return next season for more fun like this.
Frenchman Olivier Assayas’ canvas is either highly personal (“Suspended Time”) or deliriously global (“Carlos”). He can be hard to pin down as a filmmaker, except when the material does the restraining for him, as the intermittently arresting but overplayed piece of political theater “The Wizard of the Kremlin” proves.
Operating off the same-named novel by Giuliano da Empoli, about a behind-the-scenes manipulator named Vadim Baranov helping to orchestrate Russian leader Vladimir Putin’s rise to power, Assayas and co-screenwriter-journalist Emmanuel Carrère have fashioned a whirlwind shadow biopic of 21st century tsardom that blends the real story (Jude Law is Putin) and an invented one (Paul Dano is Baranov) with all the wisdom-in-hindsight energy of an old-school epic dramatizing How Things Came to Be.
The problem, though, from its clichéd interview framing (Jeffrey Wright plays an American journalist visiting the retired Baranov at his estate) to the tediously narrated flashback structure, is that the movie never lives and breathes inside its stitched-together moments, preferring to be a relentless, country-hopping talkfest in which characters opine as if fully aware of the consequential era they’re in, fully ready to explain it.
That doesn’t apply to a scarily good Law, who makes the most of a curiously underwritten featured-player part. When given center stage, his Putin is commanding, reminding us of the real sinister power in the room. But everyone else in “The Wizard of the Kremlin” is mouthpiece first, character second. Post-Cold War Russia’s swerve away from clunky democracy is as fascinating a turn of events as geopolitics gets, but it’s been reduced to an extended lecture on power, divvied up into timeline hits (from Yeltsin’s nascent kleptocracy to Putin’s violent fearmongering) and speaking parts made of aphorisms and commentary. (“If you don’t grab power, power grabs you” or “Russia has always needed a strongman,” etc.)
The Zelig-like Baranov character — understood to be a liberalized avatar for inner circle strategist Vladislav Surkov — is an interesting mix of cynicism and opportunity. He goes from being an idealist directing avant-garde theater to honing his manipulation chops making reality TV and eventually helping a savvy business magnate (Will Keen as Boris Berezovsky) fashion Putin into a palatable, malleable politician for an electorate hungry for stability. But when the ex-spymaster’s cold lust to return Russia to imperial glory becomes vengeful and warlike, Baranov’s principles give way to a ruthless impulse.
If only the sorely miscast Dano had the weight to sell this guided tour of corruption — a role that could have been in the vein of one of Scorsese’s charismatic motormouth narrators. Affectedly hushed and conspiratorial in nearly every scene, his accent an afterthought, the normally evocative actor comes off more like a one-note Bond villain in training than someone whose smarts and complexities are meant to intrigue. There’s also little chemistry in his scenes with Alicia Vikander, herself struggling to find dimension in a trophy girlfriend, whose greatest skill in an ever-changing Russia seems to be as an oligarch whisperer.
As “Wizard” barrels along, content to be aimlessly scornful and sloppy, it’s hard not to be reminded of Assayas’ much more successfully finessed “Carlos” and how this effort feels like a truncated miniseries, trimmed of nuance and emotion. It’s sketched out for cynical skimming rather than deeper psychological consideration.
‘The Wizard of the Kremlin’
Rated: R, for language, some sexual material, graphic nudity, violence and a grisly image
This article contains spoilers for the penultimate episode of “The Boys.”
There’s just one episode to go in the fifth and final season of Prime Video’s irreverent superhero satire, “The Boys.” The topical, darkly funny, whip-smart series from Eric Kripke follows a band of vigilante misfits who fight to expose the all-powerful, corrupt conglomerate Vought International and its stable of villainous superheroes.
Among the ragtag crew of antiheroes is Frenchie, played by Tomer Capone. Frenchie is the de facto chemist and inventor of the group, a former assassin for hire whose drug-addled brain is constantly concocting news ways to kill immortal Supes (superheroes). Yet he’s deeply connected with the feral Kimiko (Karen Fukuhara), who was nonverbal when he helped save her from human traffickers who sought to cash in on her Supe strength. Their bond — both are outsiders who suffered abuse as children — is one of the few emotional soft spots in the otherwise fast-moving series about America’s rotten power structure, manipulative media and the gullibility of the public.
Though fans of the show are already mourning the end of “The Boys,” they were dealt another major blow Wednesday, when in Episode 7 beloved Frenchie met his fate at the hands of the sociopathic head Supe, Homelander (Antony Starr). Israeli actor Capone talks about the scene, the end of the show and how to cope with the loss of Frenchie. This conversation has been edited for clarity and length.
OK, so the big question first. Do you actually speak French?
En vous? Moi? [Laughs] OK, a little bit, but it’s a different kind of French. But that wasn’t the difficult part. Frenchie, to me, is one of those characters for an actor, that’s a gift. It’s something I prayed for. It’s a full-on character. He’s an outsider. He’s a foreigner. The way he walks, the way he talks. We can also talk about the crop tops and the hairstyle …
He’s a full-on character, and the French aspect was only part of it. There was also the sign language with Kimiko, and the connection. For me, the emotion and connection was the bigger aspect of portraying Frenchie.
Are you ready for all the tears of your fans once they witness Frenchie’s demise? He sacrifices himself to lure Homelander away from Kimiko. She is saved, but he is killed in the process.
Oh my God, I can’t watch it. I didn’t watch it. I can’t. I’m too involved.
Tomer Capone on the scene with his character’s demise: “Oh my God, I can’t watch it.”
(Jasper Savage/Prime)
So you really haven’t watched the scene yet?
No. It’s the longest character I ever had in my career, and I can’t. Something tells me not yet.
When you shot that scene, was there an intensity on set? How did that play out?
Intensity is always around the show because there’s so much to accomplish doing “The Boys.” But funnily enough, that specific scene was the most tranquil and quiet set I’ve experienced. I remember standing there with the amazing people of the cast and crew, and we’re talking about how the scene is going to play out. I felt this quietness, like everybody was like inside themselves, so I started to get nervous. I said, “Oh my God, they’re expecting something.”
But very quickly, I decided that I’m just going release all the [plans], thoughts or ideas that I had about the scene. I literally went into this mantra that said, “Frenchie, here’s the keys. Drive the car.” And you know what? It was the right way to go. It made sense. It felt very respectful and spiritual. Those kind of scenes come once in never, where you feel like you’re letting the character drive, and you’re just gliding behind it.
“The Boys” is based on the 2000s comic book series of the same name by writer Garth Ennis and artist Darick Robertson. But the show is unlike any comic book adaptation out there. In fact, it mocks superhero culture.
The biggest gift of working [with] Eric Kripke, the writers and this show is that even as things are moving fast and big things are happening, they’re emotionally backed up. And as a character and an actor, it’s like, OK, I understand what I’m doing. This is the world and what we’re playing. You get where it is going, and why it needs to happen.
Were you surprised when you first learned about Frenchie’s fate?
I wasn’t surprised when I heard from Eric that Frenchie was continuing on to the big field [in the sky]. I had this feeling. I didn’t want to say it out loud. It’s like, at this point, the fifth season, we all felt it. We knew where it was going,
But Frenchie is the empathy and compassion of this series. I actually cried when he was killed off. The empathy is gone, and now we’re left with soulless, terrifying Homelander.
But Kimiko lives.
True, but I haven’t seen the finale. How does Kimiko go on without Frenchie?
Well, let me tell you… [laughs]. I can’t tell, but I can say that I do think Episode 8 is going to blow the audience and fans’ minds with where it goes. That’s the only thing I can say. It evolves into something that resonates.
When it comes to pushing the envelope, “The Boys” is renowned for going where most shows won’t. It drove a speed boat into the side of a whale, imbued superheroes with powers such as toxic vomit and a giant killer penis. Then there was the flying killer sheep. Was there ever a moment too far for you?
Almost every episode has those moments … I remember they told us about the whale, and they said they were still figuring out how. It was a surprise. So I’m driving to set, and it was a sunny day on the shore of Toronto, then all of a sudden, my windshield, everything is covered with this [big shadow], and I’m like what’s going on? Clouds? Is going to rain? The day is ruined! Then I look up and see them [trucking] in a real-size animatronic whale. People that had nothing to do with the show were stopping their cars and looking at this whale moving on the Toronto shore. It was like, OK, here we go.
And there was the musical sequence [in Season 3, Episode 5, when a hospitalized Kimiko imagines her and Frenchie dancing to “I Got Rhythm.”]. Karen and I were on set, and there’s like 30 professional dancers stretching behind us, beautiful and fresh and clean. And we’re looking at each other like, what is this show? What are we doing here? As an actor, you pinch yourself. It’s an experience.
Frenchie (Capone) and Kimiko (Fukuhara) in Season 3’s musical number.
(Amazon Studios)
The musical number, did you actually have to practice the choreography for that?
Oh, day in and day out. I thought I knew how to dance. Apparently I needed some work. Luckily, Karen is a total badass in terms of her commitment, and we practiced it day and night, even working on it off set between other scenes, just working in the movements, trying to get it right. But I learned something very fun about myself. Usually, I don’t like to watch myself on screen, like a lot of actors don’t. From time to time, I would watch an action scene or me fighting because I want to see if I got the choreography right. And I learned that I can watch myself dance too.
With all the fighting in that show, that’s also requires quite a bit of physical acting.
We have the best stunt teams in the business. They made our life very easy compared to the crazy stuff we had to do. Saying that, I don’t miss the harnesses that they put on us. I will not miss that
Harnesses?
I remember when we shot the first episode where Frenchie, Hughie (Jack Quaid)and Mother’s Milk (Laz Alonso) are captive in the camp. And then I think Starlight flies me off out of the camp. It was like minus 40, snowing. We’re on our harnesses, and we’re just flying away. It’s an experience.
“The Boys” has brilliantly captured the political craziness in America, but told through the world of egotistical superheroes. For example, Homelander claimed he was lord and savior around the same time President Trump posted an AI image of himself as Jesus.
How they predicted some of the stuff, it beats me. You’re going to have to ask Kripke and his writers. But I love that the show tackles all that. For me, portraying Frenchie is about humanity. About how in chaos and in fear and in the craziness of “The Boys’” world, people still choose love and compassion and that’s really the heart of “The Boys.” Or maybe that’s just from Frenchie’s perspective, where it’s all about family, loyalty and protecting the ones you love.
How did you imagine the character of Frenchie when you first learned of the show?
When I got the audition, I didn’t know about the source material. I didn’t know about the novel, or the graphic comic book. So I went online, and I started researching Frenchie. And the first picture that came in was this buzz cut, crazy, goggle-wearing character. I said, what really? Frenchie specifically is illustrated and drawn so different from volume to volume. It gave me so much space to create something in between those worlds. Then picking the brain of Eric Kripke and building a whole story and backup story for the characters. We already knew, in a way, where it was going, so we had the privilege of understanding the arc of the bigger picture for “The Boys.”
Do you have a favorite Frenchie moment?
Yeah, I do, but it’s not what you might expect to hear. It’s from Season 1. There was this scene with Frenchie and Petit Hughie. Hughie comes out of his father’s house [and he’s upset]. I say that I understand because my father was bipolar too, and [he tried to smother me with a] Hello Kitty duvet. It’s just it’s one of those moments when we couldn’t get those two lines out. We kept breaking. I think it’s the longest scene Jack and I ever had in the show. It was something like 14 takes. All the cast and crew were breaking too. It was like, should we just give it up? But I was fighting for it. No, I can do this! Now it’s a [fan] favorite quote. So that means a lot. I fought for that line!
Have you thought about how you’ll console distraught fans once they’ve seen Episode 7?
The reality star announced the news during her final performance of “Chicago” on Sunday. Leavitt has played tap-dancing murderess Roxie Hart in the Broadway revival since February. TMZ published a video of the moment, in which a Broadway castmate shows Leavitt a newspaper mid-scene. Leavitt, in character as Hart, points to the headline and reads aloud: “Whitney Leavitt announces she’s leaving ‘The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.’” The audience is heard hollering and cheering.
Leavitt followed the big reveal with an Instagram video Tuesday morning and assured fans that, although the forthcoming season will be her last, she would still appear in Season 5 of the Hulu series.
“It’s honestly so crazy to me looking back on this journey, because I had been trying to get into theater, film, way before ‘Secret Lives’ even came into my life,” she said. “The reality show just fell into my lap organically and I said yes to it. It’s definitely not the path that I had envisioned in my mind to get to where I am today, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I have experienced so much with this group of women, and through that process, I have also learned so much about myself.”
Leavitt continued, saying that the “Mormon Wives” had been through so much together, including more extreme highs and lows than audiences have seen. “No matter what happens with our relationships, that is something that will always be a part of our life, that will always be a part of my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“The times I’ve walked away from ‘MomTok,’ it came from a place of anger and frustration,” she continued. “But this time, it’s significantly different, because I’m leaving with gratitude. I feel content. I feel like this is a chapter that’s closing in my life, and honestly, I believe that’s how it was always meant to be. I’m so grateful for ‘The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.’ It’s gotten me where I am today. It’s given me the opportunities that you all have seen. But I’m ready. I’m ready for the next chapter. And I cannot wait to share with you guys what’s next.”
Much like her “Chicago” character, Leavitt’s place in the spotlight has come with less-than-favorable tabloid fodder. She told “Oprah Daily” that, although she doesn’t fully agree that she’s a series “villain,” she’s embraced her on-screen persona. She’s been candid about being a “very ambitious woman” and using “Secret Lives” as a launchpad for a career in Hollywood — and this isn’t the first time she’s departed the show.
“I had walked away from the show,” she told Gayle King about her brief hiatus after Season 2. “I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. I left the show, and then they were almost midway through the season, and I got a call from the producers, and they said, ‘If you come back, we know that you really want this opportunity to go on “Dancing With the Stars,” but the only way that you would get this opportunity is to come back and film.’”
Last year, Leavitt partnered up with pro dancer Mark Ballas and competed on Season 34 of “Dancing With the Stars.” She was eliminated in the semifinals, finishing in sixth place, but her “Cell Block Tango” performance impressed casting directors of the long-running Broadway production. One thing led to another, and the reality star was headed to Broadway.
Although Salt Lake City may not be known for the excitement synonymous with the Big Apple, Leavitt has plenty of drama to keep her busy back in production on “Mormon Wives.”
The show hit pause in March amid a series of domestic violence investigations involving stars Taylor Frankie Paul and her on-again, off-again partner Dakota Mortensen. The Salt Lake County district attorney’s office announced in mid-April that it would not be filing charges against Paul, and shortly after, the Hulu series said it would resume filming Season 5.
In the comments section of Leavitt’s Instagram video announcing her departure, Paul wrote, “You will be missed. Chase those dreams my girl. I’m excited to see your next chapter.”
If you were to go by “Saturday Night Live” hosting performance alone, you might think that the best way to ensure a memorable, well rounded and surprisingly funny show is to book a female pop star — preferably one with some child-acting experience.
With apologies to Harry Styles, it’s been pop stars including Ariana Grande, Sabrina Carpenter, Dua Lipa and now Olivia Rodrigo who’ve shown themselves to be naturals at adapting their on-stage talents to the Studio 8H stage for “SNL.”
And while she might not have crushed it to the degree of Grande (something about the Bowen Yang era of the show and Grande seemed in perfect lockstep with each other), Rodrigo was a very good host. Whatever she lacked in sketch comedy chops, she more than made up for as musical guest, world-premiering a new song called “begged,” and singing in several sketches, including a memorable one about a girl in a zoo on a planet of bug people (we’ll get to that).
After a charming monologue in which she also sang, Rodrigo played a scheming woman in a “Dynasty”-like nighttime soap opera from the 1980s, “Edge of Destiny,” where people kept falling down the stairs. The mix of physical comedy, distant cue cards and having to keep from breaking character as cast members flopped down a set of fake stairs seemed almost too much for the guest host. But she recovered nicely in another solid (and hilariously gross) “Shop TV” sketch about a baker (Rodrigo) who makes lava cakes that look a lot like anuses.
She also played a woman competing with her ex-boyfriend (Ben Marshall) at a birthday party by pretending to have a date (he does the same with a wacky Ashley Padilla). She also played a cheating romantic partner in a musical sketch about getting busted, a rideshare passenger whose driver (Andrew Dismukes) discovers he has a talent for Jamaican dancehall rapping, and a TikToker employed by a home security company to take viral videos of burglars.
Rodrigo’s songs were tremendous, especially “begged,” but it was hard for any of the sketches to top Aziz Ansari’s appearance as FBI Director Kash Patel, which drew the biggest non-musical audience reaction of the show when he appeared in the cold open.
As musical guest, Rodrigo performed her latest single “drop dead,” introduced by Debbie Harry, and a new song, “begged,” introduced by recent host and “Heated Rivalry” star Connor Storrie.
It was the rare cold open without a rambling James Austin Johnson performance as President Trump. Instead, after a clever opening title card (“You’re watching A-Span. Of your life disappear. Watching C-SPAN.”), White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt (Padilla) talked about her upcoming maternity leave before introducing “The man, the myth, the liability,” Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth (Colin Jost). Hegseth talked about the war in Iran with its “sick air raids. This war has been a movie … specifically ‘The Neverending Story.’ ” Hegseth fielded a few questions, belittling reporters as he’s done before, answering the question of when the war will end: “That’s like asking when is sex gonna be over,” he replied, “Answer: when the man is done.” Hegseth introduced Patel (Ansari), who fast-talked his way through a defense of his alleged drinking and spending. From low hanging fruit (“We dotted every T and bulged every I”) to a much sharper takedown of Patel (“I’m the first Indian person to suck at their job”), Ansari brought his Tom Haverford from “Parks and Recreation” energy, particularly when describing jumping on the couch at a night club screaming, “Who wants the nuclear codes? J/K, I ain’t got ‘em!”
Rodrigo’s monologue began by acknowledging how young the 23-year-old pop star really is: they say your favorite “SNL” cast is the one you saw when you were a teenager and hers, she said, was the current cast. After teasing her new album out next month, she showed a clip of a commercial she did for Old Navy and mentioned working with Jake Paul on the Disney Channel show “Bizaardvark.” Paul, she said, once told her, “I really want to beat up old guys on Netflix!” and they both achieved their dreams. Rodrigo then played at a piano a take of her first hit single “drivers license,” focused on getting a Real ID at the DMV and all that it requires. “Passport, W2, first-born son / Gas bill, body count, bra size, how long will this be? I’ll just use my old fake ID,” she sang.
Best sketch of the night: They even have Olivia-shaped popsicles!
Unsurprisingly, the best of the night was one of Rodrigo’s musical performances, this time a pre-taped music video about a girl who loves her perfect bedroom. It’s got a purple corded phone, a lava lamp, a beanbag chair … and it happens to be a habitat at a zoo on a planet of bug people. The wistful, lovely song is accompanied by weird visuals of the aliens, who look like praying mantises, admiring the human specimen through the room’s windows, applauding when she goes to the bathroom and taking pictures. There are enough bizarre touches, such as a VHS version of “A League of Their Own” with aliens in human skin suits, a bug protester and an unsuccessful male mate (Johnson), that quite a bit of world building happens in the short span of the very catchy tune. Can we get this song on Apple Music and Spotify, please?
Also good: Cute — cake frosting on the nose. Sexy — mashed potatoes all over the face.
Former “SNL” cast member Kristen Wiig had a talent for introducing characters whose one bizarre trait, expertly performed, could drive a whole sketch. These days, it’s Ashley Padilla (maddeningly, she’s still billed as a “Featured Player”) who is able to elevate a potentially annoying character with a collection of hilarious tics and a lot of boundary overstepping. In a sketch about a broken-up couple (Rodrigo and Marshall) who try to make each other jealous by glomming on to fake new dates, Padilla laughs too loudly, smears mashed potatoes all over Marshall’s face, gives an unhinged speech that includes, “We are to be married at midnight! Now let us pray.” It seems like every episode of late has had one sketch reserved for Padilla to show her way with these types of self-unaware characters, and this was another great showcase for her.
‘Weekend Update’ winner: Podcasters are at war and it’s hard to understand why
If you don’t know why “Call Her Daddy” podcaster Alex Cooper (Chloe Fineman) and TikToker and “Hot Mess” podcaster Alix Earle (Veronika Slowikowska) are feuding, trust us, you are not alone. Their apparent beef, which has been speculated about by very online people and, weirdly, business reporters, is now “Weekend Update” fodder, with the women comparing their fight to a “literal Chernobyl for white women.” Perhaps the best part was Michael Che’s complete bafflement as to who these women are and why they’re mad at each other. Elsewhere, Kam Patterson continued his streak of clunky “Update” segments, this time vying for a date with Megan Thee Stallion after her breakup with NBA player Klay Thompson. In describing himself, Patterson said, “Some say he’s finding his voice more every week.” Unfortunately for Patterson, there’s only two episodes left in the season.
“The Devil Wears Prada 2” opens like a knockoff of itself, with sight gags calling back to the mean quips in the 2006 hit: near-identical teal belts, a gala hailing the less-than-innovative theme “Spring Florals” and a red carpet that’s actually cerulean. Those belts, if you’ll remember, were the trigger for Meryl Streep’s Oscar-nominated speech about how her imperious fashion magazine editor in chief Miranda Priestly creates trends that trickle down to the rest of us rabble.
That first film (I’ll go ahead and anoint it a classic) followed a dowdy college graduate, Andy (Anne Hathaway), pursuing a low-level position at Runway magazine — Vogue in everything but name — as a bridge to a serious reporting career. Woe, said bridge is guarded by three trolls: fellow assistant Emily (Emily Blunt), tastemaker Nigel (Stanley Tucci) and the devil herself, Streep’s silver-haired Miranda, whose saintly last name is an ironic joke. Miranda is a riff on Vogue’s former editor in chief Anna Wintour, who used to be irritated by her caricature but eventually came around. After all, she’s getting played by Meryl Freaking Streep.
The setting was glam, the struggle relatable. Andy’s transition from sensible boots to stilettos served as a metaphor for the effort — even discomfort — it takes to chase your dreams, however they might evolve. “The Devil Wears Prada” gets celebrated for her makeover, with even Andy’s clueless boyfriend, played by Adrian Grenier, accusing her of caring about her Runway job solely for the shoes. No, it was never about the shoes. It was about respecting the workaholic she saw in the mirror.
The sequel, from returning director David Frankel and screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna, doesn’t find its own footing until it acknowledges that a Cinderella story about making it in journalism no longer fits. Gone are the days when Miranda and Nigel could casually tell their deep-pocketed publisher Irv (Tibor Feldman) that they’re junking a $300,000 photo shoot because it failed to reach their lofty standards. Likewise, Andy’s story starts when a magnate shutters her current job at a newspaper called the New York Vanguard, firing her and her colleagues for a $500-million tax write-off. (Cue the workers of at least one major Hollywood studio nodding in recognition.)
Hathaway’s Andy, smart and likable as ever, returns to a budget-slashed Runway as the features editor in charge of investigative pieces that online metrics reveal nobody reads — that is, until she breaks a celebrity engagement. Meanwhile, the internet has reduced Miranda to a meme. Her most recent viral scandal has gotten her animated into that Homer-Simpson-in-a-hedge GIF.
McKenna writes Miranda a self-aware scene where she acknowledges that her harsh reputation boosts her clout. Yet I wonder what Wintour will make of this diminished avatar pursuing the same promotion that she herself just claimed at Condé Nast as global head of content. After elevating custom couture to an art form, just the word “content” sounds like a demotion. Content is to prestige journalism what Shein is to Chanel.
Twenty years later, all of the money and power in publishing has been siphoned to the very, very rich. There seem to be as many billionaires in the script for “The Devil Wears Prada 2” as magazine assistants. Mighty Miranda must kowtow to the luxury brands and their ambassadors, whose sponsorship keeps Runway strutting, including the once-harried and humiliated Emily, who is now an executive at Dior. The tension is thicker than mink. The film franchise chooses to ignore original author Lauren Weisberger’s own 2013 follow-up novel “Revenge Wears Prada,” although I’d love to see a threequel that follows her lead and gives Blunt’s hilariously frosty Emily the center stage as she does in her third book, “When Life Gives You Lululemons.”
The storytelling is wonky, given the film’s competing needs to be Miranda-blunt about the modern magazine business while pairing marvelously with a glass of rosé. Instead of Paris, we’re now whisked to cameo-studded shindigs in the Hamptons and Milan, including a dinner party underneath Da Vinci’s mural of “The Last Supper.” (Not only is the painting’s topic apropos, Da Vinci himself butted heads with his wealthy patrons.) Much of the first half feels like we’re cooling our heels with the gang, waiting for a plot to start. There are a lot of idea threads that fray off and don’t go anywhere. Are we supposed to interpret anything from the fact that Miranda has succumbed to throwing a spring florals event — a theme she famously loathes — or are we just supposed to chuckle at the banner and move on? Also, no one in attendance is even wearing anything with flowers. Is the old gal slipping, or is the costume design?
Finally, things get going with a funeral — I won’t say whose, only that the death makes a fitting twist for an industry already getting the axe. Like Andy, I started writing for newspapers a few years after Craigslist decimated the classified page. My personal version of “The Devil Wears Prada” would be closer to a grindhouse flick. At least the Runway employees look killer at their own wake.
Twerpy MBAs force Miranda to fly coach. Of course you snicker — her character hasn’t gone past the first-class curtain since everyone onboard got served a hot meal and plenty of legroom. But there’s no schadenfreude watching her squeeze into a middle seat, no glee in her comeuppance. If Miranda Priestly can get thrown in steerage, we’re all screwed.
The movie is simultaneously more depressing than the original and more saccharine, with a repellent amount of affection between characters who should know better. Tucci’s endearingly steadfast Nigel is finally applauded for his years of service to Runway, and I was dismayed to find myself rolling my eyes at how corny the moment felt. Frankel and McKenna were geniuses to keep things callous on the first go-round, but they now add a romantic subplot between Andy and an Australian apartment contractor (Patrick Brammall) that detracts from the platonic workplace relationships — it’s fan service that I’m not sure fans actually want. Miranda, too, has found love again, and her new husband’s part is so small that I kept trying to convince myself that the actor couldn’t really be the great Kenneth Branagh..
Justin Theroux has a showier, funnier part as the billionaire Benji Barnes who, every time you see him, is holding court about another inane idea or giggling about how a civilization-destroying Pompeii disaster is on the horizon. Terrifyingly, he refers to “humans” in the third person, as if he no longer considers himself one of our species. Given the film’s interest in the figures gutting journalism and how his character’s ex-wife (Lucy Liu) refers to their marriage as being like “a rocket ship to a hall of mirrors,” he’s Jeff Bezos with a sprinkle of Elon Musk. It’s pointed timing, given that Bezos is sponsoring May’s Met Gala, wrapping the Wintour-chaired event in his brand like a giant cardboard box.
But enough about what “The Devil Wears Prada 2” has to say about the economy. How are the clothes? Aesthetically, I dug Andy and Miranda’s sleek menswear looks, lots of vests and blazers with panache. Narratively, their characters — a heroine and her nemesis — shouldn’t dress as though they could swap wardrobes. Then again, they’re here aligned as champions of art, beauty and the press, standing shoulder to shoulder in the all-but-hopeless fight to protect Runway from the philistines. The real devils wear Fitbits.
‘The Devil Wears Prada 2’
Rated: PG-13, for strong language and some suggestive references
Megan Thee Stallion’s Broadway run playing Zidler in “Moulin Rouge! The Musical” is ending weeks earlier than planned, and days after she announced a messy split from NBA star Klay Thompson.
The “Wanna Be” hitmaker is pulling out of her first Broadway run weeks sooner than anticipated. Megan announced the news on Instagram alongside a bandaged heart emoji and said she would step away from the production Friday rather than the originally slated May 17.
“Hotties, my last performance as Zidler in @moulinrougebway will be May 1,” she wrote. “It’s been such an honor to be part of thee Moulin Rouge family and I’ve met so many amazing people in this theater!
“Y’all work so hard and I have so much respect for the dedication, the stamina, the work ethic, the time and the effort y’all put into the work! I’m so grateful for the cast and crew that made this experience so meaningful. And to all the Hotties that showed up or planned to attend, thank you for supporting me during this incredible journey! I LOVE YALL . . . See you soon.”
The Grammy Award-winning rapper made history as the show’s first woman to portray the charismatic cabaret manager Zidler — the character’s full name is Harold Zidler. Broadway veteran Eric Anderson will step back into the role on May 19, but the actor who will cover the interim, from May 2 through 17, hasn’t been announced.
The wildly popular “Moulin Rouge! The Musical” was recently extended on Broadway, with its final performance set for Aug. 30 after a seven-year run.
Although Megan didn’t offer a reason for her departure, the move comes amid a recent health scare and some personal upheaval for the “Hot Girl Summer” chart topper.
On Saturday, the “Savage” rapper aired some dirty laundry on social media, writing in a since-expired Instagram story that her recent beau, Dallas Mavericks shooting guard Klay Thompson, didn’t know if he could be monogamous and had treated her horribly during their time together. “I need a REAL break after this one,” she wrote.
She followed the social media admission with a formal statement issued to People confirming that she and Thompson had split just months after they took their relationship public.
“I’ve made the decision to end my relationship with Klay,” Megan said in a statement. “Trust, fidelity and respect are non-negotiable for me in a relationship, and when those values are compromised, there’s no real path forward. I’m taking this time to prioritize myself and move ahead with peace and clarity.”
Like the milieu in which they’re set, prison movies can be terribly constricting. Often focusing on well-worn themes of masculinity, regret and redemption, they feature (and sometimes indulge) rough-hewn portrayals of tortured characters suffering through physical and emotional tumult. Inherently compelling but also a shade predictable, the genre promises a tantalizing glimpse at a terrifyingly macho world — one that most of us are fortunate not to know firsthand.
Cal McMau’s feature directorial debut hardly reinvents the formula, but it does remind audiences what remains so sturdy about the premise of an ordinary man trying to stay alive behind bars. And thanks to the latest impressive turn from rising star David Jonsson, “Wasteman” even finds a few new notes to play within a familiar stark melody.
Jonsson is Taylor, who has been serving 13 years in a U.K. prison for a drug deal that went tragically wrong, leading to an accidental death. Soft-spoken and overly accommodating, the young man mostly wants to avoid trouble, allowing himself to be bullied by cell-block thugs Paul (Alex Hassell) and Gaz (Corin Silva) while offering to cut their hair in exchange for the pills that fuel his addiction. Taylor has learned to go along to get along, existing in a zombie-like state from the perpetual high he chases.
But Taylor’s stasis is interrupted by the news that he may be granted early parole. (The overstuffed U.K. penal system needs to shed nonviolent prisoners to make room for dangerous offenders.) Longing to reconnect with his estranged teenage son Adam (Cole Martin), Taylor can see the light at the end of the tunnel — until the arrival of Dee, his new cellmate.
Played by a snarling, coiled Tom Blyth, Dee swaggers whereas Taylor shrinks. Seeing his new home as his kingdom, Dee quickly becomes the prison’s chief supplier of whatever you need — sneakers, candy, drugs — while ferociously asserting his dominance. (Early on, Dee slashes a fellow inmate’s face, recognizing him as someone who once ran with a rival crew.) Taylor adapts to the volatile situation as he always has, serving as the unthreatening beta, eventually earning Dee’s trust and friendship. Soon, Dee takes an interest in Taylor, ordering his lackeys on the outside to give Adam gifts that they claim are from his dad.
“Wasteman” introduces this odd-couple scenario and then waits for their fragile coexistence to rupture. Accustomed to being the prison’s top dogs, Paul and Gaz don’t take kindly to Dee invading their turf, resulting in an escalation of tension that puts Taylor’s parole at risk. But if much of “Wasteman” follows an expected trajectory, the film’s conception of Taylor proves thornier than anticipated.
Although probably best known for the HBO series “Industry,” Jonsson has demonstrated a dazzling range over a short period of time, including acing romantic dramas (“Rye Lane”) and dystopian thrillers (“The Long Walk”). But what unites his diverse roles is the sense of a sensitive, intelligent actor who constantly makes us wonder what he’s thinking.
Jonsson’s silences always seem to say so much and in “Wasteman” he capitalizes on his reserved demeanor and smaller frame to create a character who is much less frightening than those around him. Unlike Dee, he’s no hardened criminal, merely a guy who made one stupid mistake to financially support his child, and “Wasteman” initially encourages viewers to sympathize with this delicate soul who’s been thrown to the wolves.
Gradually, though, Jonsson complicates our feelings about Taylor. Equally desperate to be freed and to keep getting high — essentially escaping one prison while remaining in another — he slowly reveals himself to have little in the way of principles or ethics. When Paul and Gaz confront Dee, Taylor’s response is so cowardly that it’s pathetic, suggesting a spinelessness that bedeviled him long before he wound up in jail. The film presents Taylor as a kindly spirit, which turns out to be little more than calculated self-preservation.
Within the confines of a fairly conventional prison drama, McMau dissects an anonymous nobody who discovers that, both in prison and in life, there are consequences for not taking sides. Despite Dee’s savagery, Blyth portrays Taylor’s cellmate as loyal and honest — someone who believes in a personal code of conduct. The movie’s bitterest irony is that, of the two men, it’s ultimately Dee who may be more honorable.
McMau’s attempts to amplify the story’s grim authenticity occasionally fall flat. (Inspired by footage shot by actual inmates with contraband cellphones, the first-time director incorporates stagey inserts meant to re-create these intimate, graphic images.) He’s on firmer footing exploring his two leads as they square off inside this smoldering crucible. Like Jonsson, Blyth hints at a whole universe inside his character simply by the way he quietly listens and observes. As Taylor’s parole looms, the stakes grow. By the time “Wasteman” reaches its ambiguous finale, our loyalties are far from clear-cut.
‘Wasteman’
Not rated
Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes
Playing: Opens Friday, April 24 at Laemmle Monica Film Center
In the first of several significant flashbacks in “Over Your Dead Body,” Samara Weaving’s unhappy Lisa complains to a friend about a hunting trip her equally miserable husband Dan (Jason Segel) is taking her on. “You know how much I hate guns,” Lisa fumes. “So dangerous.” Turns out, she’s actually telling two lies, which is par for the course for this twisty yet underwhelming dark comedy that views marriage as both a hyperviolent blood sport and a battle to the death.
Based on Norwegian filmmaker Tommy Wirkola’s 2021 “The Trip,” “Over Your Dead Body” concerns a couple whose wedded bliss has faded along with their professional prospects. Dan directed a moderately successful sci-fi film several years ago but is now stuck shooting cheesy pop-up ads. Meanwhile, Lisa’s nascent acting career is flailing. As the movie begins, Dan conspicuously informs his production team that he and his wife are going hiking in the middle of nowhere — something, he insists, the risk-taking Lisa wants to do, despite how perilous that might be. What we soon realize is that he’s creating cover for his nefarious plan, which is to kill Lisa at his family’s forest cottage, making it look like she disappeared without a trace in the woods.
But director Jorma Taccone eventually reveals that it’s not just Dan who has murder on his mind. That first flashback rewinds to Lisa’s simultaneous scheming, claiming to those close to her that Dan longs to go hunting — when, in fact, she’s secretly brought a rifle so that the authorities will assume he accidentally shot himself. (Whatever fears she once harbored about firearms are, clearly, no longer an issue, if they ever were.) Dan is offended when he uncovers her plot: Why would she want to kill him? At least he’s justified, he believes, having caught Lisa in an affair with her scene partner.
More surprises are in store as Dan and Lisa engage in a deadly standoff in the cabin, only to discover that they’re not alone. Another flashback details how two convicted killers, Todd (Keith Jardine) and Pete (Timothy Olyphant), escaped from a local penitentiary with the help of Pete’s girlfriend, prison guard Allegra (Juliette Lewis), and are seeking refuge at the cottage. Suddenly, the feuding married couple must work together to stay alive.
One-third of the comedy troupe the Lonely Island, Taccone previously directed the big-screen adaptation of the “Saturday Night Live” sketch “MacGruber” and co-directed the endlessly rewatchable mockumentary “Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping.” For “Over Your Dead Body,” he teams with producer David Leitch, whose 87North shingle specializes in R-rated action-comedies like “Nobody” and “Violent Night.” Taccone’s irreverent, slyly shocking style would seem a good match for a story in which the pain of romantic discontent is paired with myriad scenes in which a variety of weapons wreak grisly havoc, including lawnmowers, sports cars, gardening equipment and a sock with a pool ball in it.
But despite Segel and Weaver’s best efforts, they can’t make this bickering duo deliciously awful, the characters proving more grating than hilariously combustible. And when Pete and his cohorts arrive, they’re too broadly quirky to be either menacing or hysterical, although Olyphant’s long-suffering leader has some nice moments slowly processing how dumb Todd and Allegra are.
Other than one queasy homage to “Deliverance,” the film’s handling of the showdown between this drab married couple and the cartoonish criminals is rarely gripping. Instead, “Over Your Dead Body” delivers over-the-top fight sequences emphasizing grimaces and gross-out laughs. People aren’t simply shot in the head — the bullet transforms it into a gooey slab of meat. Fingers get sliced off, stakes are driven through hands and a foot is reduced to bloody tatters. Taccone handles all this with gleeful excessiveness but once you’ve seen one pulverized face, you’ve seen them all.
A droll irony is intended to unfold alongside the rising body count. Dan and Lisa embarked on this getaway to murder one another, but they’ll end up rekindling their love. To be sure, Segel and Weaving are much more winning once their characters start warming to one another. Still, the film feels like a missed opportunity for Weaving, who became a scream queen in the “Ready or Not” films. In those movies, as an unsuspecting bride thrust into a life-or-death situation, she appealingly balanced a convincing physical performance with an understated comedic streak, her beleaguered character enduring one absurdity after another.
Weaving finds herself in a somewhat similar role in “Over Your Dead Body” and this uneven action-comedy is anchored by her had-it-up-to-here performance, which provides a witty insight into marriage that the film otherwise ignores. It’s bad enough that Lisa has to deal with Dan’s insecurity — now she’s got to tangle with some dopey crooks? Women have to do everything in a relationship.
‘Over Your Dead Body’
Rating: R, for strong bloody violence, gore, sexual assault, pervasive language, and sexual content
Plucked from a previous life as a working actor, Richard Gadd experienced a disorienting whirlwind less than two years ago. “Baby Reindeer,” his painfully personal 2024 Netflix show, based on the sexual assault he survived, instantly opened the floodgates of fame for him.
“The show came out on Thursday, and by Sunday, I could barely walk anywhere without being recognized, without being stopped,” Gadd says while visiting The Times’ offices earlier this month. “That’s an adjustment because I always thought if anything like that ever happened, it would be a bit more of a gradual process. But it was overnight, so I didn’t have time to adjust.”
Now the winner of three Emmy Awards and a slew of other accolades for that series, which he starred in, wrote and served as showrunner, Gadd, 36, has already helmed a new emotionally ferocious show.
Probing the tropes of rigid masculinity, “Half Man,” premiering Thursday on HBO, chronicles the destructive bond between two men over several decades. Niall and Ruben — whose respective mothers are romantic partners — call themselves brothers but they couldn’t be more dissimilar.
Bullied at school, meek Niall (played by Mitchell Robertson in his youth and Jamie Bell in adulthood) lost his father as a young boy. He dreams of being a writer. Meanwhile, the insolent and hyper-confident Ruben (Stuart Campbell as a teen and Gadd as a grown-up) has been in trouble with the law from a tender age. Facing any conflict, he resorts to brutal violence. When Ruben takes Niall under his wing, the two become inseparable. But as the years and resentments pile on, their cancerous brotherhood threatens to obliterate them both.
“Half Man” follows the destructive bond between Ruben (Richard Gadd), left, and Niall (Jamie Bell) over several decades.
(Anne Binckebanck / HBO)
“Richard’s writing is really unique and really singular,” Bell says on a video call from England, where he’s currently shooting the “Peaky Blinders” sequel series and is sporting a shorter haircut. “He identifies that real gray area of humanity really well and he puts a voice to the most uncomfortable places that we go into or things that we think when we’re alone in the dark, when we think no one’s watching.”
Gadd wrote the first episode of what would become “Half Man” back in 2019, while he still was performing the live version of “Baby Reindeer,” which he turned into the series. At the time, he recalls, society at large was seriously engaging in conversations around toxic masculinity and sexual violence as the #MeToo movement gained strength.
“It wasn’t necessarily that I set out going, ‘Oh, I want to make a show about that,’” Gadd says. “It was more that something must have just drifted into my head thinking, ‘You take two men repressed in their current life, repressed in the modern world. And then you go all the way back to their childhood. You contextualize learned behavior; you contextualize trauma and things they learned that make them these repressed adults. And you bring a bit of context to, I suppose, difficult male behavior in the present.’”
As “Baby Reindeer” launched his career as a creator, Gadd put “Half Man” on ice for four years but couldn’t stop thinking about returning to it. “Even as I was coming to the end of ‘Baby Reindeer,’ I thought, ‘I’m really looking forward to getting back to that project,” he recalls. “The second ‘Baby Reindeer’ finished, I thought, ‘This is what I’m going to do now.’”
Sitting across from the mild-mannered Gadd, the magnitude of his transformation on screen for “Half Man” becomes even more impressive. Gadd comes off as thoughtful and emphatic, while Ruben, his physically imposing character, commands trepidation.
“The second ‘Baby Reindeer’ finished, I thought, ‘This is what I’m going to do now,’” Gadd says about working on “Half Man.”
(Ian Spanier / For The Times)
Watching Gadd as the rage-fueled Ruben, one might be surprised to learn he originally had no intention of acting in “Half Man.” After wearing multiple hats on “Baby Reindeer,” Gadd thought this time around he could get a purely external bird’s-eye view of a project as showrunner and writer of “Half Man.” But eventually people around him suggested he should be in front of the camera once again.
“My initial response was always, ‘That’s just so far away from anything I’ve done before. It’s so far away from me. Are people going to buy it?’” he recalls. “And behind every single fear-based thought was a worry of what people might think, which in my opinion, isn’t a good enough reason to not do something.”
Convinced audiences would struggle to see the guy from “Baby Reindeer” as this “hard man,” a U.K. term for tough and intimidating men, he had to physically morph. To inhabit a new body, Gadd underwent a strict exercise regimen, and most importantly, a new diet.
“I had a chef make these meals in England, fun enough, and send them up to Scotland where I was filming,” he recalls. “I’d eat them at specific times. You go through periods of fasting and through dehydration whenever you had your top off. There was a real science to it.”
And yet, though he at first worried he wouldn’t look big enough, Gadd refused to portray Ruben with a chiseled physique conceived for mere aesthetics.
“I didn’t want him to have a six pack, I wanted him to feel like a real person,” Gadd says. “Sometimes when you see someone on TV and they’re ripped, I almost don’t think that’s real strength. Someone like Ruben, they wear their life in their body, they’re heavy set. It’s not ripped. It’s bulky. It’s natural to him.”
Before he agreed to play the character, Gadd auditioned numerous actors for the part, but with all of them he felt they were too focused on his appearance as an imposing figure and not his inner turmoil. “Ruben is extremely sad as a person. He’s terribly broken and traumatized,” he says.
For the series, Gadd bulked up to become more physically imposing: “Someone like Ruben, they wear their life in their body, they’re heavy set. It’s not ripped. It’s bulky. It’s natural to him.”Richard Gadd in “Half Man.”(Anne Binckebanck / HBO)
When asked if he sees himself as Ruben, Gadd contemplates the question, debating whether it’s his “jetlagged brain” or ambivalence about finding some of Ruben within him.
“Do I see myself in Ruben?” After a pause, he concedes: “All of his behavior is a reaction to a deep traumatic happening in his life. I can relate to finding it extremely difficult to get past big traumatic events and coming to terms with them and coming to terms with yourself even as a result of them.”
With less hesitation, Bell, 40, acknowledges that he finds a certain kinship with his character. As a teenager, Bell flocked to people with a defiant edge. “I grew up without a father in an all-female household and I felt very naked as a child in terms of needing to be protected by someone who was dominant and aggressive,” he says. “I totally understand why Niall seeks solace in someone like him. No one will touch Ruben. There is a safety in that.”
Gadd says he doesn’t think about celebrities when searching for the actors. “I’m quite fame-averse when it comes to casting because I think sometimes it can get in the way,” he explains. “You can have a show, which starts up with all the best intentions, turn into a sort of acting vehicle for someone, or the discussion becomes about the actor doing this role.”
That said, when the casting director on “Half Man” asked him about his “dream cast,” Gadd expressed Bell was the only one who would genuinely excite him. But could that happen? “In my head, I was still in pre-‘Baby Reindeer’ time where I thought, ‘Well, somebody like him is not going to be interested.’ And then I thought, ‘Well, he might be,’” Gadd says.
For his part, Bell found the “nihilism” in Niall, a man desperately running from his true self and living in Ruben’s shadow, an enticing and complex character to play. “[Niall] conceals himself in many different ways, and has a lot of self-loathing, but at the same time has all these ambitions and actually is incredibly egotistical and thinks that his way is the correct way, and that other people don’t understand that he is terminally unique,” Bell explains with a chuckle.
Bell, who plays Niall, says his character “conceals himself in many different ways, and has a lot of self-loathing, but at the same time has all these ambitions and actually is incredibly egotistical …”
(Anne Binckebanck / HBO)
Aside from a tight schedule to produce “Half Man,” the challenge for Bell was adjusting to the dramatic intensity that Gadd was after. “I wasn’t particularly prepared for that, therefore sometimes my reading of certain scenes I’d get wrong. We’d start scenes and Richard was like, ‘You are pitching it at like a six, and this is very much an 11,’” Bell recalls laughing. I was like, ‘Oh, OK.’ That took some modulating.”
In Gadd’s mind, Bell remains an “underrated” artist. A proud Scotsman, Gadd recalls loving Bell in the 2007 romantic dramedy “Hallam Foe,” where the British actor played Scottish. For “Half Man,” Gadd thought Bell could convey the pain that haunts Niall, even as his actions paint him less like Ruben’s victim and more like a vengeful participant in the chaos.
“There’s always something I find so vulnerable about Jamie and I knew that I was going to take Niall in some really big journeys where he was going to almost test the audience’s love for him,” Gadd says. That Niall finds Ruben so alluring is natural to Gadd, who believes the notion of a valiant male figure has been bred into everyone via fables and fairy tales.
Gadd adds that whether or not we like to admit it, we’re drawn to alpha male characters. “Because from an early age, we’ve been told they are always at the top of the social hierarchy. And as a result, we’ve always, as a society, answered to those kinds of people as some sort of leaders.”
And though he says he’s unfamiliar with the “manosphere,” the misogynistic and chauvinistic online community, Gadd doesn’t believe Ruben would fall for the gurus in those circles who claim to have the answers for young guys to become “real men.”
“Ruben carved his own masculinity. To give him credit, if that’s even something you can give him, those spaces wouldn’t hold any weight for him. He’s his own man,” Gad says. “He would never follow anyone on social media. He’s the person to be followed.”
Based on the tone of Gadd’s output thus far, it may come as a surprise that as a young person he dreamed of creating a show along the lines of the U.K.’s “The Office,” which he considers a “perfect piece of art.” The stories he is telling now better reflect his “neuroses” and the experiences he’s endured.
“My life just took a very dramatic turn, and my sensibilities weren’t workplace sitcoms anymore. When I grew up and I was doing comedy I thought, ‘I’ll write a sitcom one day and every character will be sort of funny in it,’” he says. “But my life just took a turn to the point where I needed my writing and my art darkened because what I went through was very dark.”
Humor is not entirely absent from “Half Man,” some of the characters’ reactions to their distressing realities earn a chuckle. Still, Gadd’s funny bone might also find an outlet in other people’s narratives. He was recently announced as part of the cast in Apple TV’s upcoming high-concept series “Husbands,” for which he already shot his scenes. Adapted from a bestselling novel of the same name, it stars Juno Temple as a woman who gets to experience life with a different partner every time she changes the light bulb in her attic.
“I’m very picky with stuff I take on. Because I love writing my own work so much, anything that takes me out on someone else’s show has to be very special. And this was very special,” Gadd says.
“Everything I do doesn’t have to be dark,” he adds with a soft smile.
EastEnders fans were not expecting to see one character randomly head back to the BBC soap without warning during Monday’s episode of the BBC soap amid a scene with Ravi Gulati
11:01, 20 Apr 2026Updated 11:01, 20 Apr 2026
Fans got a surprise during Monday’s episode of EastEnders(Image: BBC)
Fans got a surprise during Monday’s episode of EastEnders as a character returned without warning after four years offscreen.
With the episode now up on BBCiPlayer ahead of it airing on BBC One on Monday evening, we saw Ravi Gulati faced with a blast from the past. The death of his ‘father’ Ranveer Gulati was revisited, as Ravi headed to hospital amid his mental health spiralling.
There, his nurse was none other than his ex and former stepmother Nina Gupta. Fans may recall Nina was having an affair with Ravi behind Ranveer’s back.
Around this time we saw Suki Panesar believe she had killed Ranveer after he sexually assaulted her. She attacked him in self-defence, and Ravi walked in and decided to help her cover up the crime.
It was soon apparent his ‘dad’ was still alive though, and Ravi killed him. Nina was helping Ravi trying to get Ranveer’s money, and she covered for Ravi for killing her husband too.
Now she’s back, treating Ravi in hospital where she addressed their past. Seeing him struggling, she said it was karma for what he did all those years ago.
Fans were divided over the return, as one fan posted on social media: “Now why did we need to bring Nina back. We didn’t need her the first time and she’s just proven why we didn’t need her this time.”
A second fan said: “I’m glad they bought back Nina for this episode cause even though this sl was triggered by the drugs and the spiking I think it reminds people that everything genuinely stems from Ranveer and Nish.” A third added: “Unexpected Nina in the bagging area!!!”
Another viewer said: “Seeing Nina return today took me by suprise but has equally left me convinced that Kheerat and/or Ash might return at some point. Kheerat took the fall for Ranveer’s death in the end and that showdown at the surgery beteeen Ash and Nina was brilliant.”
The reactions kept on coming too, with one fan saying: “Bringing back Nina Gupta wasn’t on my bingo card!” another confessed: “For some reason I thought Nina died lmao clearly not.”
A final comment read: “I was really divided about Nina. I think it’s really good when you bring back a past character to explore someone else’s past and I think this did that and reminded us of that time in Ravi’s life. But equally why was she acting like she wasn’t a ‘baddie’ style character then too?
“She was hardly innocent! I thought it was a good twist as we didn’t know it was going to happen and it was like oh hello, but at the same time I don’t know if it added much.”
Inside the ornate Bovard Auditorium, Larry David kept a full audience in stitches as he discussed the creation and legacy of his improv hit, “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” which concluded in 2024 after 12 seasons.
In a conversation with Lorraine Ali — who wrote “No Lessons Learned: The Making of Curb Your Enthusiasm,” which retraces the show’s long run with cast interviews, episode guides and behind-the-scenes material — David reflected on the separation between himself and the abrasive on-screen persona he adopted for more than two decades.
“I wish I was that Larry David,” he said.
David spoke about the outrageous audition process for “Curb,” wherein actors tried to navigate a brief written scenario without any dialogue to guide them as David lambasted them in character. Out of this process came iconic one-liners and beloved characters, such as Leon, played by J.B. Smoove.
“People bring out certain things, and when I would act with them, some of them would make me seem funny,” David said. “I go, ‘Oh, that’s good — let’s give him a part.’”
David cited “Palestinian Chicken” as one of his favorite episodes of the show. In the episode, David is caught between a delicious new Palestinian chicken restaurant, a Palestinian girlfriend and an outraged inner circle of Jewish friends.
He also spoke briefly about his upcoming episodic HBO series, “Life, Larry and the Pursuit of Happiness,” a historical spoof that will retrace United States history for the country’s 250th founding anniversary. The series will premiere on Aug. 7.
“A lot of wigs, costumes, beards — fake beards,” David said. “Nothing worse than fake beards.”
The controversial ending of “Seinfeld,” which David co-wrote with comedian Jerry Seinfeld, was polarizing among fans when it was released, David said. After a recent rewatch, however, David said he thought it was “pretty good,” to a round of applause from the audience.
Near the end of the panel, an audience member asked a question some definitely had on their mind: Will “Seinfeld” ever get a reunion?
Christopher Meloni has a message for Elliot Stabler fans: “Thank you … for sticking with him and welcoming him back.”
The “Law & Order: Organized Crime” star took to Instagram on Thursday to convey his appreciation for his character’s long run in the franchise after it was revealed that the NBC show had been canceled after five seasons.
“I just saw that they announced … ‘Organized Crime’ won’t be coming back,” Meloni said in his video post. “So I wanted to take this moment to say thank you to the fans who not only helped give the character of Elliot Stabler life and longevity, but for sticking with him and welcoming him back.”
Meloni’s run as the seasoned detective began in “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit,” which debuted in 1999. Stabler investigated New York’s “especially heinous” sex-based crimes with partner Olivia Benson (Mariska Hargitay) and other detectives in his unit for the show’s first 12 seasons. (The character was written off the show in advance of the Season 13 premiere because Meloni and NBC could not come to an agreement on a new contract.)
Stabler returned to “SVU” in 2021 for a crossover event that helped launch “Organized Crime,” a “Law & Order” spinoff focused on NYPD officers who track down “vicious and violent members of the underworld.” While the character has occasionally appeared in “SVU” episodes since his return, the end of “Organized Crime” likely means Meloni is done playing Stabler full time, at least for now. “Law & Order: SVU,” meanwhile, has been renewed for a 28th season.
“I had a great time playing him,” Meloni said in his Instagram message. “It was a great ride. Thank you. You helped give me a career that I never dreamed of. Nearly 17 odd years.”
