Comedy

Filming a broadcast television show can leave even the most seasoned actors feeling like they’ve lost sense of time. But by afternoon on a recent weekday, Josh Charles actually looks like he teleported to the past as he collapses into a seat inside his production trailer in upstate New York.

He’s in the throes of filming Season 2 of “Best Medicine,” the Fox dramedy he headlines that’s set in a small fishing village in Maine, and the reason he’s shed his character’s usual suit and tie for gaitered trousers and a navy coat with red facings eventually reveals itself: Port Wenn, the show’s fictional town, is putting on a Revolutionary War reenactment. And if you’re familiar with Martin Best, the curmudgeonly doctor with an almost permanently furrowed brow portrayed by Charles, the character’s willingness to don such a getup likely took some coaxing.

That’s the fun of it all for Charles.

He’s been a working actor since childhood — making his debut at 15 in John Waters’ cult classic “Hairspray,” followed soon after by his turn as Knox Overstreet in “Dead Poets Society” — and a fixture in TV and film ever since.

While best known for dramatic roles like high-powered lawyer Will Gardner in “The Good Wife,” Charles easily pivots to comedy — like the time he memorably played the triple-collared, snobby camp ringleader in “Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp.” Now, “Best Medicine” lets Charles leans into the push and pull of the comedy and drama within his tightly wound alter ego.

Created by Liz Tuccillo (“How to Be Single,” “Sex and the City”), the series follows a brilliant but cranky heart surgeon who, after developing a crippling blood phobia spurred by a traumatic medical case, abandons his thriving career in Boston to become a general practitioner in the town where he spent summers as a child. Martin Best is a doc whose bedside manner could use some TLC, but he came to town hoping he can still practice medicine — that is, if the townspeople would actually do as he says.

“I have been really wanting to do more comedy lately and looking — especially if I was going to call a place home for a particular period of time, like you do in a television show — for something that was a little more lighter air than I had been networking in of late,” says Charles, whose recent credits include dystopian drama “The Handmaid’s Tale” and spy thriller “The Veil.”

The series is based on the beloved British dramedy “Doc Martin,” which starred Martin Clunes as a doctor with a similar storyline, that aired between 2004 and 2022. Tuccillo says Charles brought an elegance and depth to the fish-out-of-water dynamic his character navigates in the quirky town.

“He never hits a false note,” she says in a separate video call. “I knew the material would be in great hands in that he would always elevate it just by his artistry and being. I knew he was going to be able to play the gruffness, but any time that you’re doing a show, there is a question mark on so many things. To be honest, we were like, ‘But is he going to be super funny? Is he going to want to do pratfalls? Is he going to be game for the comedy part of it?’ When we started working, it was clear he was game for all the shenanigans … he likes to laugh. So I try to devise things that I think will amuse him.”

A special advance preview of the Season 2 premiere aired Sunday, but the show will move into its regular time slot Tuesday. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation with Charles.

“Best Medicine” hit Netflix after its first season aired. Building an audience outside the traditional linear viewing has become such a key component of television today. How do you feel about it?

One of my dad’s best friends told me, “I’m watching the show on Netflix!” He’s like, “I just can’t watch shows with commercials anymore” — as people are programmed now. That is the new shift. You go into these platforms for periods of time, build your audience in a different way and hopefully keep growing that audience. [Television] keeps evolving and growing in a way that I don’t fully understand, but I do know that it’s a different world right now. Netflix has a great reach, and it’s great that we’re on there and that people are discovering it. And apparently we did very well.

Season 2 opens with Martin on probation and under review by the medical board. What is Martin in for this season?

When it starts off, he’s really in it. Eden [Martin’s ex-girlfriend played by Eliza Coupe] is now back in the picture. She’s coming from Boston every weekend, and she’s rubbed a lot of people in town the wrong way. And the progress that Martin made, we see him maybe take a few steps back in the way that he interacts with people. He’s with her and I think there’s feelings there, but I think their relationship feels very — I don’t know, it’s interesting. It doesn’t have the fire. But she doesn’t make him feel bad about himself. She respects him, and I think those things are important. And he’s around in this town where nobody’s listening to him half the time. People are just always mad at him about something, and she’s not. She puts him a little bit on a pedestal, and I think he really needs that.

All that presents an obstacle for the show’s slow burn: Martin and Louisa (Abigail Spencer). There’s been some discourse about the art of the slow burn and how the pacing has changed in an era of short episode orders and unpredictable renewals. You have experience in this department with “The Good Wife.”

Liz and I have talked about it a little bit. You don’t want to muck bait it and drag it out for the sake of dragging it out. I think they’ve done a good job of putting the obstacles in a way that still feels organic and genuine and not yet a reach. In the British show, things accelerated so much faster. They only made eight [episodes] a year. We want to also have it feel like it’s plausible. It is really fun to have Eliza Coupe here. It’s fun to play scenes with her and [see] the different side that brought out in Martin. That is the challenge because I don’t think we’re as interested in doing it quite that fast [as the British show]. I have faith in them that we’ll land it in a good way.

You’ve played in comedy and drama in your career. It’s fun to watch you straddle both sides with this character. How has it been finding the rhythm or tone with him?

A lot of the comedy I’ve done, I’ve done some stuff that’s more silly and kind of over the top. I love playing the fool. What’s really fun [here], to me, are the circumstances they put Martin in where things are blowing up in front of him and he’s just trying to deal. I’ve enjoyed doing a lot of the physical comedy on the show.

I [also] found it really interesting to have a character who doesn’t want to be around people, but he actually does. He just doesn’t really know how to do it, and he’s never really had any kind of practice at it in his life. And he’s gone through a lot of trauma in his life. He’s a really specific kind of workaholic. For him to grow up with what he did, and losing his sister really young in his life — I did research on that and what that does to people and how that can sort of frame your life. I imagine he went to private school, maybe a boarding school, then he goes on the track of going to college and medical school — we know how hard that is, the kind of hours they put in; then to be really successful at it, you put everything you have into your work. There’s this other side of his life that is completely empty. This town kind of just softens off the edges of him a little bit and helps him become a little more authentic version of who he was maybe meant to be. That gives me some place to build off of and to go with the character, other than it feeling kind of just very one-note.

This series marks your return to broadcast television after leaving “The Good Wife” in its fifth season. You’ve done TV since then, of course. But a big reason you left broadcast was because of the grind of a 20-plus episode season. With “Best Medicine,” you’re the lead and the second season will have 14 episodes. Does that feel like the sweet spot?

If “The Good Wife” was “The Good Fight,” I would have done that until the wheels come off. I would have never wanted to leave that because I would have had a life. I could have been able to go do a play, travel with my family, see my kids. At the time of “The Good Wife,” I didn’t have kids, but we were about to get married and wanted to have children. I was only going to do 18 [episodes] at most with this show, if they wanted it. And then I asked them this year, “Well, we’re just at 14. What was the decision [there]?” And I’m happy about it. They also agree. This just feels like where the show wants to live creatively. You work really hard for four or five months, and then you get to go explore other projects and travel and live your life.

Your departure from “The Good Wife,” with your character Will Gardner dying, felt like an out–of–body viewing experience as it happened. The fact that it was kept under wraps —

I can’t believe we did it, honestly. There was one journalist who obviously had a source somewhere and did find out. Part of being able to keep that silent until the moment was an agreement that they would come to set and be there as long as it was [kept secret]. I remember like when the episode aired, I was in the editing bay with the editors in L.A. [for an episode I directed]. I’m seeing things come in and I was like, “Oh my God!” I thought it was going to get ruined for people on the West Coast. These days, you know how they make something, how much this cost, how they did this scene … we used to be surprised by things. To be able to truly shock people you know like in an Orson Welles-style “War of the Worlds” way. I felt like in our own sort of network TV way, this was the equivalent of that. We really got to narratively pack a punch. That season was one of the great treats of my career. I just felt the writing on that show that season was at another level.

BBC The Split spin-off The Split Up is here and it features a number of exciting guest stars.

Two British comedy icons are taking on rather less cheerful roles in BBC drama The Split Up.

Sir Lenny Henry and Jane Horrocks play a couple whose marriage is falling apart in the Manchester-set spin-off from The Split.

Their characters’ divorce puts them at the heart of a high-profile case for the Kishan family’s law firm.

Comic Relief co-founder Henry appears in the opening minutes as Alex Edwards, an old friend of the Kishans.

Meanwhile, Absolutely Fabulous, Little Voice and Trollied stra Jane Horrocks features later on in the debut episode as his wife Tash Edwards.

Alex decides to end their marriage after photographs emerge suggesting Tash has been having an affair with “someone half your age”, reports Wales Online.

Speaking to lawyer Aria Kishan (played by Ritu Arya), a devastated Alex looks back on the start of their relationship: “We met when I was 19. Working in a chippy.

“I didn’t know what I was doing or where I was going. And then she turned up and just made sense of it all.”

The role also brings Henry into a drama alongside his life-long friend Sanjeev Bhaskar, who plays Aria’s father, Dhruv. Henry previously appeared in Bhaskar’s sitcom The Kumars at No 42.

Bhaskar was full of praise for his friend’s performance when he told Digital Spy: “I saw Lenny last week actually and I told him how brilliant I thought he was in it and I think he was quite surprised at his own performance.

“I think it’s a testament to the writing and to the directing to get that out of him.”

Henry and Horrocks are not the only recognisable names joining the cast either with The Good Place actress Jameela Jamil also set to feature as Nisha Mantri.

Away from Alex and Tash’s marital troubles, the six-part series follows Aria as she prepares to take over the family firm while planning her wedding.

Her mother died six months earlier, and Dhruv, the founder of Kishan Law, is beginning to doubt whether his daughter is ready for the responsibility.

In addition, the return of a former flame adds another complication to Aria’s life.

The Split Up is available to watch on BBC One and BBC iPlayer.

With a boisterous laugh, Giselle Bonilla recalls her introduction to Hollywood at the age of 12: on the set of “Freedom Writers,” the 2007 drama about at-risk high school students in Long Beach. She played a young version of Eva, one of the film’s main characters.

“I remember the first thing we shot was an initiation scene where I get the s— beat out of me,” she tells De Los, sitting at a coffee shop in Silver Lake on Sept. 11 (more on this date later). “They put this candy blood in my mouth, and I thought it was so fun.”

In retrospect, Bonilla, 31, finds great irony in how that initial foray into professional acting fictionally materialized her Mexican immigrant parents’ worst nightmare.

“We don’t come from money. They hustled all their lives and put my sister and I in private education, because they had this irrational fear that I would join a gang … then the first thing I ended up booking as an actor was getting initiated into a gang,” she says grinning.

Since that unique formative experience, Bonilla has traveled a winding path in and out of the industry, which ultimately led her to direct her first feature: the dark comedy “The Musical,” in theaters Friday.

The movie’s antihero, Doug (Will Brill), is a middle school theater teacher plotting his revenge against his ex-girlfriend Abigail (Gillian Jacobs), also a teacher — and her new boyfriend, the more charming Principal Brady (Rob Lowe).

Doug’s plan? To secretly persuade his young students to put on a musical about the horrors of 9/11 and its aftermath that’s certain to cause controversy and get the principal in trouble.

“I feel like you can be more honest with comedy,” says Bonilla about why this genre appeals to her. “You can get away with everything that you’re angry about and want to yell about. If you make them laugh first, people tend to listen.”

Though the actual show is only a small element of the narrative, it turned off distributors, who argued they wouldn’t be able to market a comedy that involved such a delicate subject.

Still, “The Musical” is making it to the big screen as a self-released title thanks to its executive producers, who believed in the film enough to put in more money for a release.

“I’m going to make sure people watch it regardless,” Bonilla says about being very involved in the marketing. “Even though it didn’t sell at Sundance, we still found a way, which is how we made the whole movie. It was nonstop fighting against the universe just to make a comedy.”

Less than a week before production started, Bonilla lost the actors who were originally playing Principal Brady and Abigail. As her film fell apart, she reached out to the industry contacts she had made after working as an assistant for a few years. Miraculously, the screenplay piqued Lowe’s interest. He came on board, essentially saving the project.

As a student at the AFI Conservatory, Bonilla had directed a short film version of “The Musical” that writer Alexander Heller, aware of her affinity for comedy, had conceived for Bonilla to direct. The core group of artists who made the short also worked on the feature.

And though she has always pushed for diversity on screen — including in her short films “Virgencita” and “Bullfighter” — for “The Musical,” Bonilla believed the adults had to be white.

“It would be way more damaging if I had pinned a brown person to be behind the staging of a musical about 9/11,” she explains. “It was very clear to me that this was a comedy about white liberalism and how people weaponize tragedy for their own agenda.”

When it came to the kids in Doug’s class, Bonilla wanted to reflect the multicultural mosaic that is the Los Angeles Unified School District. To be able to see herself in “The Musical,” Bonilla wanted a Latina girl as the child with the most ambition to succeed in the arts. That character became Lata: played in the feature by Melanie Herrera in her first acting credit.

“She’s a dancer. But she’s very precocious and has a really confident, type-A personality,” Bonilla says of the young actor. “Melanie gives Reese Witherspoon in ‘Election,’ like, ‘I will do whatever I have to do for the part,’ and I recognized that in myself as a kid.”

An L.A. native raised in North Hollywood, Bonilla started doing improv at a young age encouraged by her father, Art Bonilla, who grew up in Tijuana and has worked as an actor in the U.S. for over 40 years.

Her mother, originally from Sinaloa, does workers’ compensation insurance, which provided a stable income and allowed her partner to pursue acting.

“It was tough seeing him struggle and not have any agency over work,” Bonilla says of her father. “He’s such a great actor and he’s really funny, but he’s always getting cast in these very small bit parts as a gardener or an immigrant crossing on the border.”

Unsurprisingly, when Bonilla began auditioning for roles as a teenager, similarly one-dimensional and stereotypical characters from a “troubling perspective” came her way.

“They always make the main character in those stories a white person,” she says. “And then we’re painted as these puppies that just keep getting beat up. I didn’t want to contribute to that.”

Bonilla’s interest in being on the other side of the camera solidified after playing an illiterate South Central high school student in the Byron Allen sitcom “Mr. Box Office.” She attended Pasadena City College, where she studied film production, then used the residuals from the show to help pay for her tuition at NYU Tisch School of the Arts.

Attending film school on the East Coast was, as she puts it, a necessary experience, because she grew up rather sheltered.

“I’m a first-gen Mexican American woman and I was supposed to live at home until I get married,” she explains; but it also exposed her to the concept of impostor syndrome.

“I always had this impostor syndrome at NYU, because that was where I first really confronted wealthy people,” she explains. “I had never been in a predominantly white institution before. And that was really eye-opening.”

It was only when COVID restrictions were lifted that Bonilla decided to apply to the AFI Conservatory, where she regained her confidence and met her now close collaborators.

She has, however, never forgotten her biggest and earliest supporters. Since she started directing, Bonilla has cast her father in many of her short films. And in “The Musical,” you can see both of her parents in the audience during the culminating school show.

“My dad is the one that yells at Rob Lowe at the end in slow motion. He’s pissed that I cut his line, but it was a union film, and we couldn’t afford to give my dad a line,” she says. “But he will be the first one to tell you that he’s not an extra. He did a ‘cameo!’”

Bonilla’s next project takes inspiration from her memories attending a Catholic school run by nuns in Sun Valley, where a teacher was discovered to be a pedophile. She describes it as “an erotic thriller told from the perspective of virgins.”

Once again, she’ll tackle an unsavory topic and figure out how to bring it to fruition; then distribute it come what may, because she refuses to be boxed in by the industry’s expectations.

“Identity stories are very important. If someone wants to do that, they should be able to do that,” Bonilla says. “But I don’t think our opportunity as Latinos should be limited to painting ourselves as victims against the supremacists.”

As the scorching heat of the summer reaches its peak and the calendar brings hope of cooler temperatures, it’s time to fluff the pillows and settle in to enjoy the comfort of the new television season.

But before we turn the page, the Emmy Awards will honor the shows of the past year that had audiences crying, laughing and glued to their screens — some returning this fall, while others bid adieu last year.

The 78th Emmy Awards, honoring the standouts from the 2025-26 television season, will celebrate the shows that gave viewers plenty of reasons to stay in. Whether it was the nail-biting anxiety over the chaos in HBO Max’s drama “The Pitt,” the most nominated show with 25, or laughing at the silly situations of Apple TV’s “Widow’s Bay,” which earned 19 nominations, television gave viewers different reasons to watch.

Some of the top contenders are already coming into the ceremony as winners after the first round of awards were handed out earlier this month. “Widow’s Bay” currently leads with eight Emmys, following by six for “DTF St. Louis,” and “The Pitt” won four. Notably, Rob Reiner received a posthumous Emmy for his guest appearance in Season 4 of “The Bear.”

Here’s everything you need to know about the 2026 Emmy Awards:

Where are the Emmys?

The 78th Primetime Emmy Awards will take place on Monday beginning at 5 p.m. PT at the Peacock Theater at L.A. Live in downtown Los Angeles.

Earlier this month, a pair of ceremonies, formerly called the Creative Arts Emmys, honored artistic and technical achievements as well as some performance categories. Those ceremonies will be televised Saturday on FXX at 8 p.m. and stream next day on Hulu.

How can I watch the shows?

The live telecast will be broadcast on NBC and streamed simultaneously on Peacock.

Who is hosting?

Mariska Hargitay, known for playing Olivia Benson on NBC’s “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit,” will make her hosting debut at this year’s award show.

In an interview with The Times, the multihyphenate said she was excited to televise some “razzle-dazzle” and to become the first woman to host in 15 years.

“Am I scared? Of course I am; I’ve never done this,” she recently told The Times. “But at a certain point, you have to go: Why not me? Bring it on.”

When does the red carpet start, and how can I watch that?

The countdown to the award ceremony will begin at 2 p.m., with several opportunities to see your favorite stars arrive on the red carpet — which is actually blue this year in celebration of NBC’s 100th anniversary — at the Peacock Theater.

E! will get the party started with a programming block from 2 to 5 p.m. with “Live From E!: Countdown to the Emmys,” hosted by Erin Lim Rhodes with Lance Bass and Ciara Miller, and “Live From E!: The Emmys,” hosted by Justin Sylvester, Keltie Knight and Will Marfuggi.

People and Entertainment Weekly will be conducting interviews as guests arrive on their websites and social platforms throughout the day, while NBC will be livestreaming pre-show arrivals on the network’s official TikTok account from 4 to 5 p.m.

KTLA will air “Live From the Emmys,” hosted by Jessica Holmes and Melvin Robert with Megan Henderson reporting, from the blue carpet beginning at 3 p.m. And CNN will air “Red Carpet Live: TV’s Biggest Night” beginning at 2 p.m. It will be hosted by CNN’s Elizabeth Wagmeister and Variety co-president and co-editor in chief Ramin Setoodeh.

What shows and actors are nominated?

“The Pitt” will defend its drama series title against “The Diplomat,” “The Gilded Age,” “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms,” “Paradise,” “Pluribus,” “Slow Horses” and “Your Friends & Neighbors.”

Zendaya (“Euphoria”) is looking to become a three-time winner for lead actress in a drama. She is nominated alongside Carrie Coon (“The Gilded Age”), Chase Infiniti (“The Testaments”), Keri Russell (“The Diplomat”) and Rhea Seehorn (“Pluribus”).

Noah Wyle (“The Pitt”) is again nominated for lead actor in a drama, along with Sterling K. Brown (“Paradise”), Gary Oldman (“Slow Horses”), Mark Ruffalo (“Task”) and Rufus Sewell (“The Diplomat”).

“Hacks” earned the most nominations in a single year for a comedy, with 24. It’s nominated for comedy series, as is “Margo’s Got Money Troubles,” “Nobody Wants This,” “Only Murders in the Building,” “Abbott Elementary,” “The Bear,” “Shrinking” and “Widow’s Bay.”

Jean Smart looks to win her fifth award for lead actress in a comedy series for “Hacks.” She is nominated alongside Quinta Brunson (“Abbott Elementary”), Ayo Edebiri (“The Bear”), Elle Fanning (“Margo’s Got Money Troubles”) and Lisa Kudrow (“The Comeback”).

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II (“Wonder Man”), Steve Carell (“Rooster”), Matthew Rhys (“Widow’s Bay”), Jason Segel (“Shrinking”) and Martin Short (“Only Murders in the Building”) are nominated for lead actor in a comedy.

See the full list of nominees here.

Who’s going to win?

It’s looking like a year where the winners will be easy to decipher, according to awards prognosticators, which includes The Times’ award columnist Glenn Whipp. If you’re an actor attached to either the medical drama “The Pitt” or the horror-comedy “Widow’s Bay,” consider yourself the front runner. Noah Wyle and Matthew Rhys are both the leading contenders in their respective categories.

Jean Smart is predicted to complete her sweep of lead actress in a comedy for the fifth and final season of “Hacks.” In the leading actress in a drama, it’s a tight race between Rhea Seehorn for “Pluribus” and Keri Russell for “The Diplomat.”

The second season of “The Pitt” currently stands as the favorite for drama series, while the comedy series category is a battle between new series “Widow’s Bay” and departing series “Hacks.”

Harrison Ford could win his first major acting award, for supporting actor in a comedy for “Shrinking,” unless another veteran actor takes the spotlight — Stephen Root of “Widow’s Bay.”

Supporting actress in a comedy also comes down to the top shows, likely to be between Kate O’Flynn (“Widow’s Bay”) and Hannah Einbinder (“Hacks”).

Who’s going to present?

A number of nominees will present the awards throughout the night. Past and recent Emmy winners, including Linda Cardellini, Sally Field, David Harbour, Zendaya and Alan Cumming will take the stage.

The Television Academy will celebrate the 30th anniversary of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and bring together David Boreanaz and Sarah Michelle Gellar as presenters. They will also honor the 50th anniversary of “Charlie’s Angels,” and reunite Cheryl Ladd, Kate Jackson and Jaclyn Smith.

Other presenters include Odessa A’zion, Macaulay Culkin, Jon Hamm, Marcello Hernández, Peter Krause, Dan Levy, Julianna Margulies, Annie Murphy, Niecy Nash-Betts, Keke Palmer, Amanda Peet, Amy Poehler, Florence Pugh and Rachel Sennott, with more to be announced.

Singer-songwriter Noah Kahan will cover Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” during the in-memoriam segment of the show.

For 10 days, the center of the cinematic universe is the Toronto International Film Festival, whose closest geographical landmark is currently a ludicrous controversy.

“Welcome to TIFF and welcome to the beautiful shore of — say it with me — Lake Ontario,” festival CEO Cameron Bailey said on opening night as he introduced “Being Heumann,” director Sian Heder’s crowd-pleasing follow-up to her best picture Oscar-winner “CODA.”

The crowd said it back. Google Maps, however, insists that the festival is actually a 15-minute stroll to Lake America. I’ve yet to hear a single person call it that without an eyeroll.

What’s in a name? Last year in the spirit of patriotism, my favorite Toronto coffee shop taped over the menu listing for its Americano to re-dub it a Canadiano. This fall, the sign has returned to Americano. Taking a pause from politics, I ordered a flat white.

Yet, the festival’s programmers seem to be decentralizing their attention-hogging neighbors to the south. Typically, TIFF is a launch pad for awards contenders. But there are fewer high profile Hollywood filmmakers this year than usual — which was also the case in Cannes. Perhaps these international festivals are testing their own waters to see if they’re obliged to invite Americans to their party.

Instead, the Toronto line-up boasts pointed films about fascism. On its surface, Michaël R. Roskam’s “Le Faux Soir” is a procedural account of how a network of rebels in occupied Belgium published its own parody issue of a pro-Nazi newspaper on the 25th anniversary of Armistice Day in 1943. Most of the script’s energy goes to talking about typesetting and rotary press flongs, but right before the end credits roll, “Le Faux Soir” blurts out its timeliness about combating Le Fox News with comedy. Metaphorically alluding to the satirical newspaper “The Onion,” the narrator says that to pull off this operation, the team had to stick together like layers of an onion: “Never forget, onion is strength.”

Plenty of local comedies abound, including “The Stunt Driver” by Michael Dowse (“Goon”), an energetic biopic about Ken “The Mad Canadian” Carter, the ’70s speedster who vowed to vault across the mile-wide river between Ottawa and New York in a rocket-powered Lincoln Continental. The site of Carter’s jump is four hours away from the fest, although at his car’s top speed of 280 mph, you could get there in less than one. Safer just to enjoy Jay Baruchel’s funny and endearing portrait of a reckless risk-taker who hates being called a daredevil as much as he resents Ben Foster’s Evel Knievel attempting to give him some advice. “Canadians are God’s chosen people,” Carter growls defiantly. “The last thing we need is a Yankee doodle dandy telling us how to do our jobs.”

It’s also possible that this year’s lack of big films — unlike 2025’s “Frankenstein,” “The Smashing Machine” and “Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery” — is just a reflection of the industry’s changing tides. Two of the buzziest guests at this year’s fest have been Inde Navarrette of the micro-budget horror hit “Obsession,” which premiered at last year’s TIFF, and British Columbia-born Hudson Williams of the TV hockey romance “Heated Rivalry.” Twelve months ago, both actors were anonymous Gen Z-ers who could have easily popped into Tim Hortons for a maple-glazed donut without causing a stir. Now they’re stars.

Personally, I’m all for fresh talent. Audiences and critics alike are bored of film executives clinging to the same proven names and proven plots as tightly as worry beads. Yes, I’m hoping to see some Oscar contenders while I’m here and have my fingers crossed for a few movies I’ll be seeing shortly. But for the sake of filmgoing at large, I’d be more thrilled to spot another under-the-radar “Obsession.”

So far, I haven’t found one. However, I have seen ingenuity made for peanuts, like Jenna Cato Bass’ “Future Tense,” a South African sci-fi drama about a travel service that allows the wealthy to blip back to the 1600s to hot tub under the clear skies before the land was ruined by centuries of trash, trade and colonization. Mismatched new couple Tara and Lwando (Kristen Raath and Lawrence Maleka) — she’s white and sunny, he’s Black and snide — take a blistering vacation that their relationship might not survive.

The script gets screwy in the last act, but Bass proves she can pull off a bold time travel premise using only tastefully bland décor, gorgeous nature footage and a couple of menacing brutes with guns. As a bonus, Raath, her lead, has the spunk, charm and smile of Karen Allen, giving a breakout performance that’s such a delight that you could almost swear the “Raiders of the Lost Ark” ingenue had leapt back four decades to star in the film.

While we’re talking about pivotal moments in personal histories, nine years ago Deanté Gray was a rookie wide receiver for the Houston Texans. He tore his ACL in practice and, after muscling through that disappointment, is now a first-time feature director with “Voices,” a lean and loud musical-thriller about thwarted dreams. Set in one tatty motel room in 1967 Detroit, “Voices” is a vicious flick about rising two soul acts hellbent on getting on stage that night to impress Motown Records’ Barry Gordy.

Technically, only the Harmony Brothers, Bubbles and Melvin (Joe Maye and Jamal R. Averett), are booked to play the gig. But a fame-hungry bellboy, Jordan (Francis C. Edemobi), and his cousin Derrick (Ezekiel Ajeigbe) hatch an impulsive, half-baked plan to perform in their rivals’ place. Egged on by Derrick’s ambitious girlfriend Mia (Raél Ba), who’s angling to be the duo’s opening act, this bad idea crescendos with a half-dozen original songs — and a body count.

The sound design of “Voices” is raw and the rumored $50,000 budget so strapped that minor period piece inconsistencies like cheap plastic trash cans sneak into the frame. Who cares? Sam Buckner III and Charlie T. Savage’s smart and surprising screenplay is crowded with scenes that let its cast shine. Someone — ideally, several people — in here will wind up getting their own major break.

Admittedly, I’m biased. Morbid musicals are one of my favorite micro-genres, from “Little Shop of Horrors” and “All That Jazz” to “A Star Is Born” and “Cabaret.” (If you haven’t seen Steve Martin’s 1981 Depression-era hoofer “Pennies From Heaven,” do that this week.)

Add Theo Rhys’ “Stuffed” to that list. Jodie Comer (“Killing Eve”) plays a goth taxidermist; Harry Melling (“Pillion”) is a lonely man terrified of dying, buried and forgotten. Can she convince the sad sack to kill himself now to become a piece of her permanent collection?

The plot alone gives you the shivers, nodding to predatory internet meet-ups and that volatile mix of victimization and egomania that causes people to hurt themselves and/or others. Dark as the story is, though, co-writer Joss Holden-Rea’s tunes are stunners with limber melodies and creatively off-kilter lyrics. “My past is still before me,” Melling belts, picturing himself proudly mounted in a velvet suit and bronze plaque.

“Stuffed” isn’t for everyone. But my fellow sickos are going to love this bleak and lovely tragicomedy once it sets sail from these shores (whatever they’re called by then) to a theater near you.

Premiering Sunday at midnight on Adult Swim, a most appropriate and maybe the only possible space, “The Terrors of Jordan Mendoza” is, as its creator describes it in a prologue, “a ‘Twilight Zone’ sketch show,” which is just what I would have said after watching eight of its 13 11-minute episodes, had he not said it first. Emphasizing its Asian bonafides — Mendoza is Filipino American — he adds, “It would be almost racist if you didn’t do it.”

Mendoza, who stars in, directs and, with David Machajewski, writes the show, has said that some of the ideas come from actual dreams — the “terrors” in the titles are nightmares — though if my own dream life is anything to go by, the jokes are more clever and the narratives at once weirder and more cohesive. At various times it recalls the eeriness of David Lynch or the non sequitur logic of Luis Bunuel, and it has something of the flavor of “The Vince Staples Show,” which also went to some strange places in its too-short life.

Sketches, of varying lengths, build a central idea out in every direction, and a little farther than you might expect. We meet a therapist obsessed with Wendy’s. Batman, convinced that he has adult ADHD because an online quiz told him so (“I know a lot of people claim they have ADHD,” he tells Alfred, “but in my case I think I really do … I’m creative but easily overwhelmed, organized but at the same time not”). A dying man (Steve Buscemi) is obsessed with getting his last words right; a prisoner is sentenced to “15 hugs and kisses” from the “nearest judge.” A bank robber holding hostages demands to be “a famous snake … and if you can’t get on board with that then everyone in here is going to die.” In a horror movie pastiche, Mendoza is dogged by middle-aged white men compelled to tell him that their wife is Asian, which does sound like something from personal experience.

Wherever the comedy goes, it’s played straight and with intensity, as is the terror. The show can be genuinely disturbing and genuinely funny. (Two things can be true at once.) There’s also a scene in which Mendoza, playing a character convinced he’s a Harry Potter wizard, runs into a brick wall he thinks he’ll pass through, and, there’s nothing more liable to make me laugh than that, unless it’s someone hitting their head on a low door frame or suddenly falling over for any number of non-fatal reasons.

Mendoza, who is in his mid-30s, has a string of writing and acting credits, including writing for “Dave,” Dave Burd’s comedy about a suburban Jew from Philadelphia who believes himself destined for rap greatness, and parts in Julio Torres’ “Problemista” and “Fantasmas,” which are located in the same hemisphere of alternative comedy. He has the Rolodex of a well-connected person; the guest list is impressively loaded for someone making his first show.

The great Martha Kelly (from “Baskets”) plays a masseuse who exteriorizes her client’s pain, and in another sketch, she’s a woman sitting in on a confirmation class in order to learn where Jesus might be “lodging” when he returns. (She has a plan.) Kate Berlant invites Mendoza to what turns out to be a one-woman poetry slam, held in secret to avoid the Slammers Union (“They’re like the Sopranos, only violent”). Chris Parnell, Randall Park, Wanda Sykes, Thomas Lennon, Clea DuVall, Lake Bell, Toby Huss, Mark Maron, Fred Armisen and Gregg Turkington (from the world of “On Cinema at the Cinema”) all muck in.

You should know from the above whether this might be your sort of thing. (It won’t be everyone’s, but it’s definitely up my dark, crooked alley.) But, really, it’s even better than these descriptions might lead you to guess, elevated by the first-class production, assured performances (Mendoza is himself very good) and everyone’s commitment to whatever bit is up at the time. The devilishness is in the details.

“Dang!,” an amiably chaotic new adult animated comedy premiering Tuesday on Netflix, tells the story of the Dangs, three Chinese American siblings living in New York City. Eunice (Poppy Liu, “Hacks”) and older brother Andrew (Andrew Law) share a walk-up apartment in Chinatown; at 26, she’s still determinedly the baby, with little practical knowledge and dependent on him for the tiniest things. He’s the anxious middle child. (Therapist to Andrew: “I’m getting the sense that you’re an anxious people pleaser.” Andrew: “I’m cool with that if you are. Oh my God, are you?”) Somehow Andrew, who is gay, has a lot of casual sex, and only casual sex, despite being incredibly (and comically, obviously) awkward.

Both Andrew and Eunice, who makes money from a live stream in which “horny men and a few women with eating disorders pay me to step on bread,” are relationship averse. When it’s suggested she might like someone she’s been seeing, Eunice panics, “Am I catching feelings? Can it be stopped? Is there a vaccine? Damn whoever the president is.” There is little romance in this comedy.

Where Andrew and Eunice are aspirational slackers who spend off hours watching reality TV and taking whatever drug comes to hand, their older sister, Ruthie (Stephanie Hsu, “Everything Everywhere All at Once”), is a high-powered lawyer, more than comfortable defending evil corporations from the common people; she recoils at a community garden or free library, which she regards as socialism. (“I don’t even like fire departments.”) Though she’s seemingly the successful one, her life has taken an unexpected turn; she’s left her husband, Warren, a weedy Briton overeager to please her, and is pregnant by a colleague, a creep she idealizes. Her fall from perfection delights her brother and sister, who chant, “One of us!” She moves to New York and into the series.

Co-created by Law, who wrote for “Hacks,” “The Good Place” and “Late Night With Seth Meyers” and has acted a little, and Matt Murray (a smorgasbord of 21st century smart comedies are on his resume), the show was originally conceived as live-action. If anything like the present product, it would have to have been a very particular kind of comedy — something like “30 Rock,” whose beats were borrowed from cartoons in the first place. In any case, animation is the place it ought to be. The grotesqueness of Eunice’s boss, Jane, a product-damaged monster who is all face and very little body, if not unachievable in live-action — Katherine Helmond in “Brazil” comes to mind — isn’t really sustainable. You could not have a dead old man’s head come loose from his body and roll across a conference table with quite the same air of insouciance, or melt a rat walking across an overheated microwave oven, if actual people and rats were involved. On the other hand, the fact that Warren is so annoying reminds us that unreal people can elicit genuine repulsion. I ground my teeth at his every appearance; for Ruthie’s sake, I wanted him gone, and she isn’t real, either. It’s the magic of animation.

The show is generally amusing, sometimes very funny and easy to watch as an evolving story of family. (A visit to the Dang parents in Episode 8 is especially productive.) One’s mileage will vary depending on generation and experience. (“I was born in 1999,” says Eunice, who has never heard of Facebook. “Anything before ‘Skibidi Toilet’ is just cave paintings to me.” Of course, I had to look up “Skibidi Toilet,” and I don’t feel bad about admitting that.) There are sex jokes, fart jokes and pop culture jokes; there are jokes I don’t even want to describe. But there is a satisfying specificity to the humor, especially as involves Asian American culture, gay life, New York City and New York City gay Asian American life, which is not overexplained. The city itself is rendered with some light-handed detail — its delis, drug stores, coffee shops (why did I especially like the paper sleeves on the to-go cups?), Central Park on “Freaquinox,” “the first day that everyone decides it’s spring” when citizens turn into sex-crazed zombies. (Eunice: “Last year, I woke up next to an Uber Eats delivery robot.”)

As a situation comedy, its characters will spend their days and nights getting in and out of scrapes, enduring self-inflicted humiliations, experiencing minor triumphs; they are all a little stupid, and a little smart. And as a cartoon, its job is not just to tell you a story, but to give you something fresh to look at, something to set itself apart while offering easy access to its world and people. The character design, which borrows from anime, is elegant and a little odd — hands and feet are drawn tiny, which has the paradoxical effect of drawing your attention, making them more expressive.

Beyond the three stars and Noël Wells (as Greta, Jane’s cowed assistant), neither the producers nor the publicists nor the onscreen credits nor the usual websites have identified who played whom. But I copied down these names down from the screen: Al Roberts, Sungwon Cho, Jared Goldstein, John Michael Higgins, Adam Pally, Jaboukie Young-White and Mary Holland.

TELLURIDE, Colo. — Do you believe in ghosts?

Andrew Scott considers the question and looks at me with a mischievous grin, retreating to a corner of the restaurant booth where we’re catching up a few hours before his new movie, “Elsinore,” the most personal film he has ever made, premieres at the Telluride Film Festival.

Scott turns over the question again. “Do I believe in ghosts?”

It feels like a reasonable thing to ask. Three years ago at Telluride, the yearning romantic fantasy “All of Us Strangers” memorably premiered, featuring Scott playing a character who worked through unresolved trauma by talking to the dead. Ghosts are elsewhere in his work, metaphorical (“Vanya”) and literal (“Hamlet”).

“If I had a gun put to my head — which you don’t have to — I would say that I don’t believe in them,” Scott says. “But the idea of the afterlife and where we will go is still really fascinating to me. Dreams and the subconscious, too. I don’t know what went on consciously in the world outside my hotel room here last night. I was perfectly content to be asleep. And I like the idea of thinking about death that way. I’ll just be asleep. It’ll be OK. It’s the undiscovered country.”

Dropping a line from Hamlet’s “to be or not to be” soliloquy in this context feels unavoidable. In the powerfully moving “Elsinore,” Scott plays the real-life actor Ian Charleson, who, as he was secretly dying from AIDS, played Hamlet in a 1989 Royal National Theatre production, still considered one of the great performances in London theater history. Charleson was 40 at the time, known for playing Scottish Olympic athlete and missionary Eric Liddell in “Chariots of Fire.” He died eight weeks after leaving the National Theatre stage. “Elsinore” captures that journey in all of its glories and taxing challenges.

“That he would go for treatment in the morning and then play this Olympian role is just endlessly moving,” Scott says. “I don’t know how he did it.”

With our pint glasses filled with water as we adjust to Telluride’s altitude, we try to figure it out.

Charleson playing Hamlet, scaling the Everest for actors, reminded me of David Bowie making “Blackstar” as he was dying. As an artist, you’re not often given the chance to shape the narrative of your own end.

Being offered Hamlet doesn’t happen to every actor. To take it and turn it into something generous and useful — useful is a word I love about acting, that it’s useful to people.

When people are feeling down, they can watch a movie they love.

And see themselves. That can’t be underestimated.

What’s your go-to movie?

I will always watch “Bridesmaids” when it comes on TV. Comedy is precious to me. Laughing is precious to me. I don’t see it as the antithesis of tragedy. I think they’re one and the same.

The last time we talked, around the time of “Ripley,” you wanted to put out into the universe the idea of starring in a musical or a comedy. That hasn’t happened by the strictest definition. But you seem to be saying that genre labels don’t matter.

The reason, hopefully, that “Elsinore” is moving is that we approach some of the stuff with quite a bit of lightness. The effect is tragic and there are some heavy things in it. But my job, what I prioritized, is keeping it light.

You are seen dancing to Ethel Merman’s disco album. It doesn’t get much lighter than that.

My favorite actors are the ones that are funny. I worked with Lisa Kudrow last year on “The Comeback,” and yes, of course, she’s very funny. But if you look at that performance she gives toward the end, it’s so moving. People come away from things that are labeled comedies and go, “I just laughed at that.” Or people come away from things that maybe were really sad and say, “I was just devastated by that.” I think the job is to get rid of categorizing and make it more fluid.

Like life. Sometimes you eat the bear and sometimes, the bear, he eats you.

Exactly! I don’t love things that are overly serious. One of my big dreams for this film — and I do wish so much for this film because it’s so personal — is that people don’t feel like that they’re going to see something that’s depressing. I didn’t want to fetishize Ian’s death.

What do you hope audiences take away from watching it?

That they see themselves in it. You know, it doesn’t end well for any of us. The movie for me is about time. What are you going to do with your time? Ian decided to to live and to be a light and to be around people for the glory of the theater.

Speaking of time, next month you’re going to be celebrating a milestone, turning 50. Or not celebrating. I don’t know how you feel about birthdays.

I don’t love my birthday.

Any year?

My friends have said to me, “You gotta make some plans.” I love a party. Which is to say, I love other people’s parties. What I usually do is I leave it to the last minute and send texts around, saying, “I understand if you don’t want to come, but I might do this.” And then you do something small. I read something yesterday where you should go to your own parties like you’re a guest. I think that’s a very good way to to do it.

What about just being around for half a century? Is that in your head? You’re the one who just said it doesn’t end well for any of us.

I’ve definitely thought about it more. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I’ve thought, “Jesus, what?” I’m sure that’s because of my mom dying and that I’m approaching my mortality. Again, how am I going to use my time? One of the reasons I was so ferocious about getting “Elsinore” made was that I would put all of myself into this and then maybe I can chill out a bit more.

The personal aspects of this movie are striking. In addition to producing “Elsinore,” you yourself have played Hamlet on stage. You’re also a gay actor portraying someone who, at the time, would have torpedoed his career by coming out.

When I was a kid, I was obsessed with the movies and would read Premiere and Empire magazine. Around 16 or 17, I started to realize that maybe if you’re gay, you wouldn’t be invited to movies. And I wasn’t wrong in thinking that, because there weren’t many examples. So I would omit things in interviews. I wouldn’t lie, but I really understood that about Ian’s generation.

There’s a melancholy moment in the movie where he says, “I wanted to be in the movies. I didn’t scale the heights.”

What a gorgeous little dream. A young boy goes, “I want to be in the movies.” And then to have that knocked out of you bit by bit. You’re not even going to be seen for the audition. Or, “Are you being a little fruity there?”

Did people tell you not to talk about being gay?

Very well-meaning people said to me, “Just keep that [private] because you’re not obviously gay,” which I often think is such an insult to say to people. “So maybe you can get away with it.” And I was like, OK. And I did that for awhile. But it was so insidious. When audiences think of acting, they think of actors pretending, like you’re putting yourself in somebody else’s shoes. So the fact that there was this whole section of gay actors who weren’t allowed to do that is awful. I’m so grateful that I get to do that.

What do you remember about the late ’80s and early ’90s in terms of navigating the AIDS epidemic?

It makes me emotional. It was extraordinary just to to have lived through that time and to be completely abandoned by your government, who wouldn’t even say the name of the illness. When I was a young adult, that’s what I was scared of. If you go for a sexual health screening, you go, “My God, am I going to die?” I remember going into those situations, and with no cause for such concern, feeling like I’m going to be punished for expressing myself in that way, because that’s the way the world was set up.

Let’s get back to Ethel Merman.

Please! [Laughs]

There’s that stanza in “There’s No Business Like Show Business” that goes: “There’s no people like show people / They smile when they are low.” Would you say that sums up the spirit of “Elsinore” about as well as any couplet could?

Yes, it’s so much about the power of community and show people. It’s about show people and smiling and getting on with the show.

When did you first feel that power of community?

Putting on “The Wizard of Oz” in a school play when I was about 10.

What part did you play?

Guess.

Dorothy?

[Laughs] No, a friend of Dorothy. Oh, come on. One more guess.

The Cowardly Lion?

No. The Tin Man. My mom sprayed me silver, in my hair and everything. We had a probably bit of aluminum foil and I had a funnel. I loved it so much. And I remember having a really extraordinary feeling of surprise, knowing the audience was there. For such a shy boy, when I had to do the big number, “If I Only Had a Heart,” it went to another level, better than rehearsal. I suppose the little showman, the little 10-year-old silver showman, came out.

KRISTEN Wiig has stunned in sexy black lingerie for her raciest look yet in a new photoshoot.

The actress turned heads with her makeover for her spread in the latest issue of Perfect magazine.

Kristen, 53, looked completely transformed in her skimpy all-black outfits, which were considerably more revealing than her usual attire.

One photo captured the comedian posing in a body-hugging mini dress and a blazer.

The dress featured beading over her chest and a matching design on the cuffs of her coat.

Meanwhile, her legs were on full display, with her dress’s super-high slit showcasing her upper thighs.

Kristen finished the look with white pointed-toe heels, heavy makeup, and her tousled blonde hair at her shoulders.

The Bridesmaids star kept the edgy style in another photo, modeling a skintight dress with a see-through lace top.

She slouched in a chair, her hair covering half her face, showing off dark eye makeup and massive gold statement earrings.

Kristen’s third outfit again showed the TV star in a different light as she rocked pants and a matching blazer, with nothing underneath.

The Masters of the Universe star ditched her bra and a shirt to tease her bare breasts beneath the blazer.

She wore long, dangly earrings with the same messy hair-look and heavy makeup.

Kristen continued to stun in her photos, as another captured the Saturday Night Live alum standing by a pool in a bra and panty set.

She added see-through lace tights and high heels to her bottom half, keeping her abs and toned arms exposed on top.

The Despicable Me star concealed her eyes with a massive bucket hat, posing with her hands on her hips.

Kristen wore a similar ensemble during a baking session in the kitchen, including a tiny bra, leggings, and leather boots.

She perched one leg on a table while mixing ingredients in a bowl, oversized sunglasses covering her eyes.

A couple of other inside shots captured the Palm Royale actress in a form-fitting strapless dress with a deep V-neck, and a long-sleeved sweater dress with big fur sleeves.

It’s rare to see Kristen in such daring looks, worlds apart from her hysterical costume in her iconic Target Lady sketch on SNL.

She also wore a prim-and-proper wardrobe with bright colors and perfectly styled hairdos in her latest TV series, Palm Royale.

The Apple TV series, which follows her character Maxine Dellacorte-Simmons as she vies to become the belle of 1960s Palm Beach, was canceled earlier this year after two seasons.

Jared Freid remembers the moment he found his true calling in comedy.

Oddly it came after he’d already found success with his debut Netflix special “37 & Single” in 2023, which allowed him to live the stand-up dream of making it to a big streamer. But then that moment passed and the Boston-bred comic was once again starting from square one scrounging for joke ideas. That’s when he decided to dig up an old story he’d told on stage about his dad body-shaming him during a family outing in Delrey Beach, Fla.

“We’re sitting at the beach, and my dad asked me how much I weighed, and I was so mad about it,” Freid remembers. Seething at his dad for poking at his body insecurities, the comedian dealt with his emotions like any good millennial — by podcasting about it. Venting the story that took only about a minute to tell on a microphone led to more fights with his aging boomer parents soon after when they heard the episode.

Scrolling back through that memory, Freid said something clicked when he thought about the alarmingly close relationship millennials still have with their parents in adulthood including still being on the family cellphone plan. “I can pay my own cellphone bill, but I’m still on their family plan,” he said. “That says something about the millennial/boomer relationship, in my opinion. We’re weirdly attached to our parents, and in a way that no other generations were tied like that, like not mushed together.”

Extending his one-minute bit into a full hour in his new Netflix special “The Family Plan” (out on Tuesday) took two and a half years of dedication polishing the story and seeing it start to resonate on tour at shows around the world. It also required him understanding that what underlies the struggles between millennials and their parents is how shockingly alike they are despite being constantly annoyed by each other. Freid now says his goal is to be a family-friendly comedian for families that usually aren’t friendly with each other but can easily agree on that fact while they laugh at jokes about themselves.

This interview was edited for length and clarity.

Your new one-hour special was inspired by a one-minute story you’ve told about a fight with your dad at the beach. You tapped into something really universal with the strife between boomer parents and their millennial children — a real tug of war for power that’s happening in a lot of people’s lives right now.

Totally, I and I feel it, especially because we can talk back to [our boomer parents] in a respectful way. We can have debates. You’re finding out your parents are just people too. I started telling people on my podcast, “Bring your parents.” This special is to be enjoyed with your family. You’d see a guy with his dad [at one of my shows], point at him and go “[Jared’s] talking about you!” That made me feel so good. I did it in Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Europe, I did it everywhere, and it was always just unbelievable how much people related to it and now it’s how I want to do comedy. This is who I am. This special means so much to me. It’s been a fight to get it out. I wanted it on a platform like Netflix because I want parents to watch it with their kids. It’s hard enough to get your parents on your Netflix account. Imagine getting them to watch a special on YouTube? They’re not going to do it. So I need this to be in a place where boomers and millennials can share it with each other and enjoy it together.

As an adult, what’s been the most interesting thing about seeing what things you picked up from your parents despite constantly arguing with them?

We’re exactly the same. We’re so alike that that’s probably why my dad’s asking me how much I weigh at the beach because I also look like him. It’s almost like an argument with yourself. I’m a version of him, and he’s a version of me. I have a lot of empathy for my parents. I’m 41, no kids, never married. They had to grow up while having a kid. I can’t understand that.

Right now there’s a lot of talk about divorcing your parents going around. I also can’t understand that for a second, because it’s not in my nature. For so many of the things that I go through in my life and feel frustrated by, [my parents] are, they’re my conscience a lot of times. Like when I wonder whether I should go right or left, I hear my mom in my head like, “You’re gonna go right? Why would you go right? You always go right. You’re lazy.” I hear them. I feel like I understand them more now, being older.

Every generation has their obstacles, and we’re constantly looking at each saying “Oh, you have it easy, no you have it easy!” But in your special, it kind of comes out that there’s obstacles for every group.

Totally. I don’t do comedy to make anyone feel bad. I do it to make people laugh and enjoy. And like it was cool to see a family would come to me to take a picture afterwards, and then the parents would be like, “We’re the boomers you’re making fun of.” I’m making fun of them, but I’m also making fun of ourselves [as millennials]. And I think it strikes a balance between the two because it does show that I love my family. I love how I grew up. I love that you know the people in my life. That doesn’t mean you can’t be totally angered by them.

Where did you cut your teeth in comedy?

I started in New York. I was selling life insurance and annuities in New York, and I was writing funny emails to friends. Any time we were on the same group email, Gmail, or G Chat it was always “what did we do last weekend, and what are we going to do this weekend?” And then you just make fun of each other. Anytime someone would write back “Oh my God, I’m dying at my desk. That made me laugh so hard,” I was like, “That that feels like drugs. How do I get that?” I started doing open mics, and I kind of treated it like grad school. I did improv, sketch, and storytelling. I took all these classes, and just to see what I liked, because I just wanted to be funny for my friends. Plus I could go to open mics at night, so you could add that in and feel forward momentum.

Being a millennial comedian right now seems very much like being stuck between two worlds of having the old model of success in comedy you learned from your idols and then you have people who are younger than you who are blowing up just by like posting a random video.

What you’re saying is completely right. Like we’d look up to these guys like Colin Quinn on his show “Tough Crowd,” that’s the table I wanted to sit at, and I wanted to hang out with those guys and bust each other’s chops, that’s what comedy is. I always could see myself at that table, but I also understood that table is kind of earned. You don’t just get to it because you’re funny. When I started, you could count the comedians on one hand that could do theaters, without being on a TV show. You know, there was like Brian Regan, Kathleen Madigan, Jim Gaffigan. These people weren’t on TV, but they had their audience, so it was very different to be a stand-up. Earthquake is in that group. Then you look at the sitcom people who get to do stand-up because they were on a sitcom, like you know Seinfeld and you know Ray Romano, and these are great stand-ups.

How did podcasting allow you to grow your career in a different way?

I thought “well, I’m listening to these podcasts. I should start a podcast.” And I was downloading podcasts in 15-minute increments to my iPod Nano. I love talk radio. I grew up on WEI in Boston. I love sports, I like sports talk, I like high energy shows. At that time, I thought everyone had one, but now I look like I started early. I can do a podcast where I can speak directly to people who might want to come to my shows. I didn’t even think of ads. I wasn’t thinking of that stuff. I was just [thinking] I can talk right to someone who likes what I do, and I would team up with these websites… I was trying to do this internet stuff, understanding there was power there. I was caught between two worlds, working on my stand-up as kind of my nighttime job, and then doing these podcasts and contributing wherever I could as a daytime job.

When you started working with Betches Media through podcasting on shows like “U Up?” [with platform co-founder Jordana Abraham] it opened up a lane for you to suddenly grow a female audience in a way that seemed natural despite being out of the ordinary for most straight male comedians. What’s that been like to grow that type of audience?

It’s weirdly gratifying. It’s not what I was like angling towards. I think if I was angling towards a female audience as a stand-up, it wouldn’t work. I think that it would be a lie. I’m so happy with it. I feel really thankful because you know the [founders of] Betches [Abraham, Aleen Dreksler and Samantha Fishbein] they’re my sisters. The audience is family like when they come to shows I know them, you know, that’s like a beautiful thing and I think especially in the world of stand-up where all you hear about is like the Manosphere and the Rogan types, and a lot of stand-up comedy is men dragging a girlfriend to someone they think is funny because they get an ego puff out of showing a woman who they know is to be funny. And my shows are very different. It’s women bringing their boyfriends, women who now bring their husbands, couples coming together, and I love it.

Lastly, what cellphone family plan are you and your parents currently on?

Oh, we’re on T-Mobile. I’m getting kicked off by my dad currently.

Because you’re too famous?

Yeah, he’s like it’s getting embarrassing for him. I could pay for it myself. I just like, now I got to go to the store, I gotta go do it. It’s annoying.

The beloved comedy was created by The Office star Mindy Kaling

Friends fans might have just found their next TV obsession.

Not Suitable For Work (NSFW) landed on Hulu and Disney Plus in June, and its already drawing comparisons to iconic sitcoms. Created by Mindy Kaling, the series centres on five twenty-somethings as they navigate the transition from university life into the professional world.

Viewers follow the tight-knit group as they attempt to scale the corporate ladder in New York City. English actress Ella Hunt leads the cast as main character AJ, an introverted financial analyst who moves to Manhattan for the role.

She shacks up with her former university flatmate Abby (played by Avantika Vandanapu), who is pursuing a career in celebrity styling. The rest of the ensemble is made up of rising stars Will Angus, Jack Martin and Nicholas Duvernay.

Despite its first season spanning just nine episodes, NSFW has garnered overwhelming praise from viewers. It achieved an impressive 82% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes, where one enthusiastic fan declared: “This series is everything and deserves the f***** best.”

The review continued: “Modern day ‘Friends’, and I say that as the most outstanding compliment. Mindy Kaling, wow! It felt fresh, new and necessary for the time,” reports OK!

Another fan compared it to the nineties classics, commenting: “The cast is brilliant. It clearly feels like an homage to 90’s sitcoms like Friends.” While a third person raved: “10/10 series, a breath of fresh air for comedy in 2026.”

Yet another viewer shared their glowing verdict: “Such a good show! only complaint is that there are never enough episodes….give us 20 episode seasons.”

Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like NSFW will be releasing new episodes anytime soon. Hulu has decided to cancel the show after one season, although producers are said to be looking for a new streaming home.

Creator Kaling took to Instagram to express her love for the project following its cancellation. Sharing several snaps of the cast, she wrote: “I love this show, I loved making this show, I love these people, and I love all of you for all your sweet comments, messages, edits and for watching.”

All nine episodes of Not Suitable For Work are available to stream now on Disney Plus.

Imagine Def Comedy Jam hosted inside a speakeasy of an iconic music venue — that’s “Right After You Left,” a new summertime event thrown by seasoned comedy bookers Chris Burns, Sarah Mello and Sean Dickerson. Folks driving to the Palladium may have noticed that in addition to the line around the block to see a popular music act, there’s also one at the side door of the Vinyl Room, the new music hall’s lounge that opened its doors in March. That’s where this comedy night takes place.

The glowing bar is decorated like a DJ lives there with shelves of classic records, ghetto blasters, plush couches, upscale food and craft cocktails. It feels like seeing a comedy show in the living room of a friend with taste. Comics who’ve come to the stage include Donnell Rawlings, Iliza Shlesinger, Morgan Jay, Josh Johnson and Kam Patterson. Unlike most club shows that are quick to kick you out, the promoters encourage people to hang out for what feels like an after-party worth sticking around for. Though the show is seasonal and runs until Sept. 22, the promoters plan to come back in December.

When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays
Tickets: Varies