different kind

For centuries, mythology looked to gods to explain a disquieting world. But in the new documentary “Folktales,” from “Jesus Camp” filmmakers Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, which follows a trio of jumbled Scandinavian teens to a remote Norwegian school that builds character in the snowy wild, the answer to life may just lie in what “god” spells backward.

In other words, yes, let’s go to the dogs: sled dogs, specifically, whose personalities, purpose and compatibility are the secret sauce to a lesson plan that seeks to get kids out of their heads and into a stronger sense of self. The beautiful Alaskan and Siberian huskies that animate the dog-sledding instruction at Norway’s Pasvik Folk High School are what help lift this handsomely photographed film above the usual heart warmer.

Ewing and Grady are no stranger to this scenario, having observed at-risk Baltimore youth striving for stability (“The Boys of Baraka”) and unhappy Hasidic Jews attempting to remove themselves from all they’ve ever known (“One of Us”). The situation is less sociologically dire in “Folktales,” but it isn’t any less compelling as a subject or less worthy of empathetic attention, especially when the stage for potential transformation is as rapturous as the birthplace of Vikings.

Pasvik is 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle, which means self-reliance isn’t optional and knitting carries more practical weight than learning a math formula. As gap-year institutions dedicated to nurturing the transition to adulthood, folk schools have roots going back to the 19th century. Pasvik sees survival training as unlocking potential in teens too devoted to their phone screens. As convivial dog-sledding teacher Iselin puts it to the students, she wants to “wake up your Stone Age brains.”

For anxious, bubbly 19-year-old Hege, who lost her father and struggles with image issues, unplugging is tough at first. But she responds to its benefits, especially when entrusted with the care of Odin, a gorgeous, lovable canine with an expressive howl. Socially awkward Bjorn wants to stop harboring sad thoughts and second-guessing his nerdiness. Nothing like a majestic creature who rewards your undivided attention, then, to refocus one’s energies. When the students are tasked with spending two nights in the forest alone with just their assigned huskies and camping acumen, their struggles give way to a turning point, what another kindhearted instructor describes as the special inner peace that comes with just “a fire, a dog and a starry sky.”

You also gather that Ewing and Grady may have been seeking some inspiration themselves. Hence, some arty montages of the icy wilderness (including some woo-woo yarn-and-tree symbolism) and an ambiance closer to warm spotlight than objective inquiry.

That makes “Folktales” decidedly more powdery than densely packed — it’s all ruddy cheeks, slo-mo camaraderie and the healing power of steering a dog sled through breathtaking terrain. It looks exhilarating, and if the filmmakers are ultimately there to play, not probe, that’s fine, even if you may not know these kids at the end any better than you did at the beginning. It’s hard to say whether negative-minded high school dropout Romain will wind up on the other side of what troubles him. But we see how happy he is making friends and catching a glimpse of moose in the wild. It’s a simple message, but “Folktales” sells it: Nurture via nature.

Michelle Khare has mastered taekwondo, muscled through police academy and conquered Houdini’s deadliest trick. But now comes a different kind of challenge for the popular daredevil: proving to the Hollywood establishment that Emmy-worthy content arises from YouTube.

The host, known for her online reality series “Challenge Accepted,” is part of a group of YouTube creators with massive followings, producing high-caliber content, who are vying for Primetime Emmy Awards this year.

Although she won’t need to enlist the help of an Olympian or train for months this time around, she’s taking the challenge head-on. But while she’s been on the awards campaign, Khare said her top priority is letting her videos speak for themselves.

To that end, she’s taken on some high-profile challenges lately, including surprising Tom Cruise at the premiere of “Mission: Impossible — The Final Reckoning.” She got in by donning a mask a la the spy franchise, whipping it off for the big reveal. And she teased the process of training to take on Cruise’s infamous stunt of hanging off a plane as it’s taking off.

The video has garnered more than 800,000 views.

“My primary concern constantly is, ‘Is the show we’re making worth a nomination?’ and it needs to be, always,” she said.

Having a creator win an Emmy would be yet another milestone in YouTube’s quest for global dominance.

People now spend more time watching YouTube on TV screens than viewing subscription-based streaming services like Netflix and Prime Video, according to data from Nielsen. On average, there are more than 20 million videos uploaded daily to YouTube, according to the company.

Google-owned YouTube’s revenue last year was estimated to be $54.2 billion, which would make it the second-largest media company behind Walt Disney Co., according to a recent report from research firm MoffettNathanson.

Creators self-submitted for the awards, and YouTube has been supporting their campaigns to bring awareness to their content and sway Emmy voters. The creators and YouTube are jointly contributing to the campaigns. No matter what happens when nominations are announced Tuesday, this year’s push is a long time coming.

Traditional studios and networks have substantial budgets dedicated to awards campaigns because the trophies and the glamour of awards season are not just superficial. A major nomination or award serves as a signal of high quality and legitimacy. That would be all the more meaningful for online creators, who have traditionally been seen as on the outskirts of Hollywood.

For the individual creators and their companies, the investment in the Emmys race could lead to new or more fruitful relationships with advertisers and sponsors. The prestige recognition could also open the door for different opportunities for creators, like Lilly Singh’s late-night stint or MrBeast’s competition series on Prime Video.

Khare said when she met with YouTube Chief Executive Neal Mohan shortly after he was appointed in 2023, he asked her what the company could do for her. Helping a creator earn an Emmy was her request, she said.

“If it’s not me on July 15, if it’s anybody else, if it’s this year, next year, 10 years from now, I can’t wait,” she said.

Khare, who is hoping for a nomination in the hosted nonfiction series category, is in good company with two other YouTube shows in the running for awards this year.

“Good Mythical Morning,” a daily show hosted by YouTube personalities Rhett McLaughlin and Link Neal, and Sean Evans’ talk show “Hot Ones,” where celebrity guests eat progressively spicier chicken wings, are also eligible for Emmys. Last year, “My Next Guest With David Letterman and John Mulaney,” an “Only Murders in the Building” aftershow and “The Daily Show” won in the respective categories these YouTubers are hoping for a spot in.

“There’s a reason traditional Hollywood cares about awards,” Khare said. “It attracts the crew who want to work on [the show]. It attracts the audience to bring viewership, and it also attracts advertisers to financially support and make the show continually sustainable, in addition to all of the other wonderful publicity things that it does to elevate us into this world against legacy television.”

Khare said she always wanted to work in television and gained experience at legacy studios before joining BuzzFeed, which she called “paid graduate school for content creation.”

(Luke Johnson / Los Angeles Times)

In a 2024 guest column for the Hollywood Reporter, Mohan wrote that YouTube creators are not just vlogging from their bedrooms. They have writers’ rooms, production teams and business strategies. Mohan wrote that the Television Academy recognizing creators wouldn’t “detract from its storied history” but rather ensure the group is forward-looking.

“In order to maintain its relevance and emerge a leader in the digital age of entertainment, the Emmys should celebrate all kinds of content, especially the creators whose storytelling is pushing culture forward,” he wrote.

A 2025 report from the Television Academy released in February shows the members skew older. About 50% of the body reported their age, and of that group, roughly 68% are age 41 or older.

Much of the challenge in these creators’ quests to get nominated for or win an Emmy Award is making sure voters are familiar with their YouTube content. Although they each attract millions of viewers, Hollywood‘s more old-school folks might not have come across their videos before the awards push began.

Khare, who said she had always wanted to work in television, started off interning at legacy studios before she took on a role as a video producer for BuzzFeed in its heyday. She said her experience making YouTube videos for the media company was like going to “paid graduate school for content creation.” At the same time, she was “moonlighting” as a professional cyclist, she said.

Creating “Challenge Accepted,” where she often undertakes incredible physical tasks, was a marriage of her love for video content and athletics. And the extreme stunts she’s able to pull off make her particularly adept at getting attention online. Training like an Olympic boxer, for example. Or learning how to take hits like a superhero stunt performer.

Beyond what creators are doing and contributing to the campaigns themselves, YouTube is supporting the push for Emmys, most visibly by hosting its first formal For Your Consideration, or FYC, event in coordination with the Television Academy.

More than a decade ago, Bernie Su won an Emmy for a YouTube series he worked on. As far as he’s aware, his 2013 win marked the first time “the word YouTube has ever appeared on the trophy,” Su said. He went on to win two more Emmys, one for another YouTube series and one for a Twitch series.

The category for his YouTube wins, recognizing creative achievement in interactive media for an original interactive program, is judged by panels of industry professionals, rather than by popular vote.

But Su said his road to win the Emmys looked very different than the creators in the race today. YouTube wasn’t even aware he and his team were submitting their series for Emmy consideration in 2013, he said.

Still, Su said he’s rooting for Khare and the other creators in the running this year, especially since he’s seen firsthand how an Emmy Award helps to legitimize digital-native work.

“My parents are very much all about the three Emmy wins when they talk about their son,” he said. “Not about anything else. It starts there. That’s the nexus of the work that I do.”

YouTube declined to share how much money the company has spent to support the campaigns this year. Angela Courtin, a YouTube executive who’s helming the awards push, said the company is relying on “existing commitments” like billboard space and activations at film festivals to highlight the Emmy contenders.

“When they decided that they wanted to be seen among their peers equally, then it became our responsibility and our opportunity, as well as our privilege, to collaborate with them to do so,” Courtin said. “At the end of the day, the award sits on their mantle, not ours. It will never be in my office.”

Evans, left, Khare, McLaughlin and Neal each spoke to Television Academy members about their shows at YouTube’s For Your Consideration event in May.

(Araya Doheny / Getty Images for YouTube)

Offering this kind of support to creators serves YouTube too.

Beyond the benefits of recognition as a serious player in the traditional television world, and the potential boost in advertising dollars flowing to the company, YouTube putting both monetary and figurative weight behind creators is a worthwhile investment, said Jeremy Goldman, senior director of briefings at eMarketer. After all, YouTube doesn’t want to lose more of its talent roster to Instagram Reels and TikTok.

“YouTube creators can take their ideas elsewhere,” Goldman said. “The more you support them, the more likely they are to go to YouTube for future endeavors, which has been very valuable for YouTube, because it’s basically people creating [intellectual property].”

Brian Flanagan, the president of Mythical, the studio founded by YouTubers Rhett and Link, said seeking awards recognition is not about ego but about acknowledging the many people behind “Good Mythical Morning” and the other shows Mythical makes that draw audiences in the millions.

“GMM” is eligible in the category honoring short-form comedy, drama or variety series. Recent winners include “Carpool Karaoke: The Series” and “I Think You Should Leave With Tim Robinson.”

Mythical is also acutely aware of the business implications of a major award nomination or win.

“If you want to seek premium advertising, top-flight guests and other trappings of the best of the best of Hollywood television, it could really be a distinguishing mark, and we’d be excited to have that stamp on us,” Flanagan said.

Evans, who is vying for recognition in the talk series category with the likes of Jon Stewart, Jimmy Kimmel, Seth Meyers and Stephen Colbert, told The Times in June that he feels “Hot Ones” should be in the mix with these traditional television mainstays.

“I didn’t know that we’d be a part of the conversation, never dreamed of it,” he said. “But now that we are, I’ll say with my full chest that we belong.”

Khare would also be entering a storied category with legendary past winners like Anthony Bourdain and David Letterman. That prospect, perhaps unsurprisingly given her record of daunting feats, doesn’t intimidate her.

The list of past winners in this category and other television stars who have inspired Khare’s work are mostly men. “I would love to inspire young women to go out and be great too,” she said.

Despite the tough odds of securing not only a nomination but shooting for a win in a competitive field, Khare remains optimistic about her chances.

“Conan O’Brien, I’m coming for you,” she quipped.

CANNES, France — “The sun is my mortal enemy,” Ari Aster says, squinting as he sits on the sixth-floor rooftop terrace of Cannes’ Palais des Festivals, where most of the screenings happen. It’s an especially bright afternoon and we take refuge in the shade.

Aster, the 38-year-old filmmaker of “Hereditary” and “Midsommar,” wears a olive-colored suit and baseball cap. He’s already a household name among horror fans and A24’s discerning audiences, but the director is competing at Cannes for the first time with “Eddington,” a paranoid thriller set in a New Mexican town riven by pandemic anxieties. Like a modern-day western, the sheriff (Joaquin Phoenix) spars with the mayor (Pedro Pascal) in tense showdowns while protests over the murder of George Floyd flare on street corners. Too many people cough without their masks on. Conspiracy nuts, mysterious drones and jurisdictional tensions shift the film into something more Pynchonesque and surreal.

In advance of the movie’s July 18 release, “Eddington” has become a proper flash point at Cannes, dividing opinion starkly. Like Aster’s prior feature, 2023’s “Beau Is Afraid,” it continues his expansion into wider psychological territory, signaling a heretofore unexpressed political dimension spurred by recent events, as well as an impulse to explore a different kind of American fear. We sat down with him on Sunday to discuss the movie and its reception.

I remember what it was like in 2018 at Sundance with “Hereditary” and being a part of that first midnight audience where it felt like something special was happening. How does this time feel compared to that?

It feels the same. It’s just nerve-wracking and you feel totally vulnerable and exposed. But it’s exciting. It’s always been a dream to premiere a film in Cannes.

Have you ever been to Cannes before?

No.

So this must feel like living out that dream. How do you think it went on Friday?

I don’t know. How do you feel it went? [Laughs]

I knew you were going to turn it around.

That’s what everybody asks me. Everybody comes up saying [makes a pity face], “How are you feeling? How do you think it went?” And it’s like, I am the least objective person here. I made the film.

I know you’ve heard about those legendary Cannes premieres where audiences have extreme reactions and it feels like the debut of “The Rite of Spring.” Some people are loving it, some people are hating it. Those are the best ones, aren’t they?

Oh, yeah. But again, I don’t really have a picture of what the response is.

Do you read your reviews?

I’ve been staying away while I do press and talk to people. So I can speak to the film.

Makes sense. I felt great love in the room for Joaquin Phoenix, who was rubbing your shoulder during the ovation. Have you talked to the cast and how they think it went, or were they just having a good time?

I think that they’re all really proud of the film. That’s what I know and it’s been nice to be here with them.

Joaquin Phoenix, left, and Pedro Pascal in the movie “Eddington.”

(A24)

In the context of your four features, “Hereditary,” “Midsommar,” “Beau Is Afraid” and now “Eddington,” how easy was “Eddington” to make?

They’re all hard. We’re always trying to stretch our resources as far as they can go, and so they’ve all been just about equally difficult, in different ways.

Is it fair to say that your films have changed since “Hereditary” and “Midsommar” and now they’re more accommodating of a larger swath of sociopolitical material?

I am just following my impulses so I’m not thinking in that way. There’s very little strategy going on. It’s just: What am I interested in? And when I started writing, because I was in a real state of fear and anxiety about what was happening in the country and what was happening in the world, and I wanted to make a film about what it was feeling like.

This was circa what, 2020?

It was in June 2020 that I started writing it. I wanted to make a film about what it feels like to live in a world where nobody agrees about what is happening.

You mean no one agrees what is happening in the sense that we can’t even agree on the facts?

Yes. There’s this social force that has been at the center of mass liberal democracies for a very long time, which is this agreed-upon version of what is real. And of course, we could all argue and have our own opinions, but we all fundamentally agreed about what we were arguing about. And that is something that has been going away. It’s been happening for the last 20 something years. But COVID, for me, felt like when the last link was cut, this old idea of democracy, that it could be sort of a countervailing force against power, tech, finance. That’s gone now completely.

And at that moment it felt like I was kind of in a panic about it. I’m sure that I am probably not alone. And so I wanted to make a film about the environment, not about me. The film is very much about the gulf between politics and policy. Politics is public relations. Policy is things that are actually happening. Real things are happening very quickly, moving very quickly.

I think of “Eddington” as very much a horror film. It’s the horror of free-floating political anxiety. That’s what’s scaring you right now. And we don’t have any kind of control over it.

We have no control and we feel totally powerless and we’re being led by people who do not believe in the future. So we’re living in an atmosphere of total despair.

During the lockdown, I was just sitting on my phone doom-scrolling. Is that what you were doing?

Of course. There was a lot of great energy behind the internet, this idea of: It’s going to bring people together, it’s going to connect them. But of course then finance got involved, as it always does, and whatever that was curdled and was put on another track. It used to be something we went to. You went to your computer at home, you would maybe go to your email. Everything took forever to load. And then with these phones, we began living in cyberspace, so we are living in the internet.

It’s owned us, it’s consumed us and we don’t see it. The really insidious thing about our culture and about this moment is that it’s scary and it’s dangerous and it’s catastrophic and it’s absurd and ridiculous and stupid and impossible to take seriously.

Did that “ridiculous and stupid” part lead you aesthetically to make something that was an extremely dark comedy? I think “Eddington” sometimes plays like a comedy.

Well, I mean there’s something farcical going on. I wanted to make a good western too, and westerns are about the country and the mythology of America and the romance of America. They’re very sentimental. I’m interested in the tension between the idealism of America and the reality of it.

You have your western elements in there, your Gunther’s Pistol Palace and a heavily armed endgame that often recalls “No Country for Old Men.”

You’ve got Joe, who’s a sheriff, who loves his wife and cares about his community. And he’s 50 years old, so he grew up with those ’90s action movies and, at the end, he gets to live through one.

Let’s step backward for a second about where you were and what you were doing around the time you started writing this. You were finishing up “Beau Is Afraid,” right? What was your life like then? You were freaking out and watching the news and starting to write a script. What was that process like for you?

I was New Mexico at the time. I was living in New York in a tiny apartment, but then I had to come back to New Mexico. There was a COVID scare in my family and I wanted to be near family. I was there for a couple months and just wanted to make a film about what the world felt like, what the country felt like.

Were you worried about your own health and safety during that time?

Of course. I’m a hyper-neurotic Jew. I’m always worried about my health.

And also the breakdown of truth. What were the reactions when you first started sharing your script with the people who ended up in your cast? What was Joaquin’s reaction like?

I just remember that he really took to the character and loved Joe and wanted to play him, and that was exciting to me. I loved working with him on “Beau” and I gave him the script hoping that he would want to do it. They all responded really quickly and jumped on. There was just a general excitement and a feeling for the project. I had a friendship with Emily [Emma Stone, whom Aster calls by her birth name] already and now we’re all friends. I really love them as actors and as people. It was a pretty fluid, nice process.

I haven’t seen many significant movies expressly about the pandemic yet. Did it feel like you were breaking new ground?

I don’t think that way, but I was wanting to see some reflection on what was happening.

Even in the seven years since “Hereditary,” do you feel like the business has changed?

Yeah, it is changing. I mean, everything feels like it’s changing. I think about [Marshall] McLuhan and how we’re in a stage right now where we’re moving from one medium to another. The internet has been the prominent, prevailing, dominant medium, and that’s changed the landscape of everything, and we’re moving towards something new. We don’t know what’s coming with AI. It’s also why we’re so nostalgic now about film and 70mm presentations.

Do you ever feel like you got into this business at the last-possible minute?

Definitely. I feel very fortunate that I’m able to make the films I want to make and I feel lucky to have been able to make this film.

There’s a lot of room in “Eddington” for any kind of a viewer to find a mirror of themselves and also be challenged. It doesn’t preach to the converted. Was that an intent of yours?

[Long pause] Sorry, I’m just thinking. I’m just starting to talk about the film. I guess I’m trying to make a film about how we’re all actually in the same situation and how similar we are. Which may be hard to see and I’m not a sociologist. But it was important to me to make a film about the environment.

I was asked recently, Do you have any hope? And I think the answer to that is that I do have hope, but I don’t have confidence.

It’s easy to be cynical.

But I do see that if there is any hope, we have to reengage with each other. And for me, it was important to not judge any of these characters. I’m not judging them. I’m not trying to judge them.

Ari Aster, left, and Pedro Pascal on the set of “Eddington.”

(Richard Foreman)

I love that you have a partner in A24 that is basically letting you go where you need to go as an artist.

They’ve been very supportive. It’s great because I’ve been able to make these films without compromise.

Do you have an idea for your next one?

I’ve got a few ideas. I’m deciding between three.

You can’t give me a taste of anything?

Not yet, no. They’re all different genres and I’m trying to decide what’s right.

Let’s hope we survive to that point. How are you personally, apart from movies?

I’m very worried. I’m very worried and I am really sad about where things are. And otherwise there needs to be another idea. Something new has to happen.

You mean like a new political paradigm or something?

Yeah. The system we’re in is a response to the last system that failed. And the only answer, the only alternative I’m hearing is to go back to that old system. I’ll just say even just the idea of a collective is just a harder thing to imagine. How can that happen? How do we ever come together? Can there be any sort of countervailing force to power? I feel increasingly powerless and impotent. And despairing.

Ari, it’s a beautiful day. It’s hard to be completely cynical about the world when you’re at Cannes and it’s sunny. Even in just 24 hours, “Eddington” has become a conversation film, debated and discussed. Doesn’t it thrill you that you have one of those kind of movies?

That’s what this is supposed to be. And you want people to be talking about it and arguing about it. And I hope it is something that you have to wrestle with and think about.