Fans of the seminal, long-running podcast “WTF With Marc Maron” — and I count myself among them — have been treated to thousands of deep-dive interviews with a starry array of actors, musicians, comics and even some politicians (Barack Obama was a guest in 2015). It’s also been an intimate window into the conflicted inner life of the show’s eponymous host. Maron has seemingly pulled few if any punches in his podcast’s opening monologues as he’s held forth on everything from his fraught emotional state and his two-decade struggle with drug and alcohol addiction (he’s been sober since 1999) to the untimely 2020 death of his romantic partner, the well-regarded indie filmmaker Lynn Shelton (“Humpday,” “Your Sister’s Sister”).
Much of this personal territory and more is revisited in the absorbing, fly-on-the-wall-style documentary “Are We Good?” (named after Maron’s “WTF” sign-off phrase), produced and directed by Steven Feinartz.
Feinartz, who also directed Maron’s last two HBO stand-up specials, began filming his subject in 2021. He trailed Maron as he performed in comedy clubs from Los Angeles to Montreal, recorded his podcast from the garage studio of his Glendale home, visited with his elderly father and, most pivotally, worked through the soul-crushing loss of Shelton. That loss becomes the driving force of the doc, with Maron’s grief informing his daily life and thought process, while also providing cathartic, darkly humorous fodder for his stand-up gigs.
It’s a tricky balancing act that Feinartz depicts with candor, grace and patience, never letting the film’s provocative pathos turn overly grim or sentimental. A stand-up bit in which Maron recalls his ghoulish urge to snap a hospital selfie after bidding goodbye to the deceased Shelton (don’t worry, he decided against it) provides a gulp-worthy example of the comic’s brazen yet reflective approach to the world around him.
That Shelton died at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic made for an additionally cruel and difficult time for Maron, who was unable to share his pain with many others as social distancing took over. He eventually found the funny in that conundrum as well, incorporating the memory into his routine with satiric glee.
Anyone familiar with Maron’s grumpy, F-bomb-tossing persona will likely savor these 90 or so minutes in his swirlingly neurotic company. He unabashedly leans into that vibe here, even while wrangling his pair of self-possessed cats. While Maron sometimes kvetches about Feinartz’s hovering cameras, he seems to have given him a kind of all-access pass to his daily life in a way that belies his trademark crankiness. He may be a reluctant showman, but he’s a showman nonetheless.
The uninitiated, however, might find Maron somewhat less engaging. He readily self-identifies as “selfish, anxious and panicky” and for some, a little of that may go a long way. Still, it’s not hard to relate to his many cogent musings (“How do you love somebody else if you really can’t love yourself?”) as well as to respect he clearly had for Shelton, who’s seen here in an array of luminous, heartbreaking clips.
Other comic talents such as Nate Bargatze, David Cross, Caroline Rhea, Michaela Watkins and John Mulaney also weigh in, bringing a mix of the sincere and the droll to their frank and friendly observations about Maron. On his podcasts and elsewhere, Maron has spoken at length about growing up with narcissistic, emotionally detached parents and how that dynamic likely laid the groundwork for his problematic sense of self. Although that’s not discussed in great detail here, the scenes between Maron and his dad, Barry, now in his mid-80s and living with dementia, have a subtle poignance that shows a kinder, more accepting side of the comedian than perhaps even he might have expected.
Meanwhile, a bit more could have been made of Maron’s acting work, a sideline that’s gained momentum over the last decade or so with worthy roles on TV’s “Glow” and “Stick,” and in films including “Joker” and the upcoming “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.” Maron’s oft-stated uncertainty about his acting ability and the push-pull he has admitted to feeling might have dovetailed nicely with his other qualms.
That said, the profile, which features vivid archival and personal footage and photos of Maron throughout the years, is by no means comprehensive, nor does it try to be. At heart, it’s about a vulnerable man at a unique moment in time and how his past has prepared him — or perhaps not. And we are definitely good for experiencing this singular artist up close.
“Reservoir Dogs” and “Kill Bill” star Michael Madsen and his family are “incredibly overwhelmed with grief and sadness” over the death of his son Hudson Madsen, who was also filmmaker Quentin Tarantino’s godson.
The 26-year-old Oahu resident died of a gunshot wound, according to the City and County of Honolulu Dept. of the Medical Examiner. Supervising investigator Charlotte Carter said Tuesday that Madsen’s manner of death was listed as a suicide, citing his death certificate.
The department does not release death dates, Carter said, but noted that a full autopsy report would be available to the public in about four months.
An attorney for Madsen said Wednesday that the actor is doing well and is surrounded by his children while his wife is in Hawaii making arrangements.
Michael Madsen, left, and son Hudson Madsen in Las Vegas in 2011.
(David Becker / WireImage)
“I am in shock as my son, whom I just spoke with a few days ago, said he was happy – my last text from him was ‘I love you dad,’” Madsen said in a statement to The Times.
“I didn’t see any signs of depression. It’s so tragic and sad. I’m just trying to make sense of everything and understand what happened,” he continued.
He said Hudson had just completed his first tour in the U.S. Army, where he was a sergeant stationed in Hawaii, and that his marriage “was going strong.” According to social media posts from Hudson and his wife, Carlie, he spent time in Afghanistan.
“He had typical life challenges that people have with finances, but he wanted a family,” Madsen said. “He was looking towards his future, so its [sic] mind blowing. I just can’t grasp what happened.”
The actor, 64, said that he has asked for a full investigation by the military. He believes “that officers and rank and file were shaming” his son for needing therapy and that made him stop getting help for mental health issues that he had been keeping private.
“We are heartbroken and overwhelmed with grief and pain at the loss of Hudson,” the Madsen family said Tuesday in a statement to Metro. “His memory and light will be remembered by all who knew and loved him. We ask for privacy and respect during this difficult time. Thank you.”
Hudson Madsen is survived by his wife, his father, mother DeAnna and siblings Christian, Calvin, Max and Luke.
Darrell Wayne Lukas, known to the general public as D. Wayne and to friends simply as Wayne or as “The Coach” if you were in the business, died on Saturday after a brief illness. He was 89.
Lukas’ career, which started in Southern California in 1968, not only built a recognizable brand but helped shape horse racing for more than 50 years. He won 15 Triple Crown races among his lifetime win total of 4,953, having run horses in 30,436 races. His horses earned more than $300 million.
He died at his home in Louisville, Ky., after being diagnosed with a severe MRSA blood infection that affected his heart, digestive system and worsened preexisting chronic conditions. Lukas decided against an aggressive treatment plan that involved surgeries and round-the-clock assistance. Instead, he returned home and entered hospice care.
“It is with heavy hearts that we share the passing of our beloved husband, grandfather and great-grandfather D. Wayne Lukas. who left this world peacefully [Saturday] evening at the age of 89 surrounded by family,” the Lukas family said in a statement released by Churchill Downs.
“His final days were spent at home in Kentucky, where he chose peace, family and faith. As we grieve at his passing, we find peace knowing he is now reunited with his beloved son, Jeff, whose memory he carried in his heart always.
“We are deeply grateful for the outpouring of love, prayers and support from all corners of the racing community — from ractetracks across the country to lifelong friends and respected rivals, and from fans who never missed a post parade when ‘Lukas’ was listed in the program.”
His illness was announced on June 22 along with the decision that he would not return to training. All of his horses were transferred to his longtime assistant Sebastian “Bas” Nicholl.
“Wayne built a legacy that will never be matched.” said Nicholl upon learning Lukas was not returning to racing. “Every decision I make, every horse I saddle, I’ll hear his voice in the back of my mind. This isn’t about filling his shoes — no one can — it’s about honoring everything he’s built.”
Lukas was so good that he was in not one but two halls of fame. He was inducted into the American Quarter Horse Hall of Fame in 2007 and the U.S. Racing Hall of Fame in 1999.
“Wayne is one of the greatest competitors and most important figures in thoroughbred racing history,” said Mike Anderson, president of Churchill Downs racetrack in Kentucky, after the Lukas family announced the severity of his illness. “He transcended the sport of horse racing and took the industry to new levels. The lasting impact of his character and wisdom — from his acute horsemanship to his unmatched attention to detail — will be truly missed.”
Lukas’ story started on a small farm in Wisconsin.
Bill Dwyre, who previously was the sports editor of L.A. Times and the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, recently chronicled Lukas’ roots.
“Lukas did not grow up on some farm in Kentucky, mucking stables as a teenager and rubbing elbows all day, every day, with grizzled horsemen,” Dwyre wrote last year after Lukas won the Preakness with Seize the Grey. “Lukas did grow up on a farm, all right, but in the state of Wisconsin, where there is no parimutuel betting, and where horse racing is pretty much confined to county fairs. His birthplace, Antigo, Wis., an hour and a half northwest of Green Bay, had a fair and D. Wayne … liked the horses.
Trainer D. Wayne Lukas looks on as Preakness Stakes winner Seize the Grey cools down after a workout ahead of the 156th running of the Belmont Stakes in 2024.
(Julia Nikhinson / Associated Press)
“But that sort of career was not foremost in his mind. He went to the University of Wisconsin, got his master’s degree in education, started teaching and soon was a high school head basketball coach. For a while, he was an assistant coach in the Big Ten for UW’s John Erickson. He stayed close to the game of basketball, even as his days were dominated by barns and backstretches. Along the way, one of his best friends became Bob Knight. D. Wayne liked the toughness and drive to win of the legendary Indiana University coach.”
Lukas decided to try his hand at training and started at Los Alamitos in 1968 working with quarter horses. It took him 10 years to realize that the real stars — and the money — was in thoroughbred racing. Before leaving the quarter horse ranks, he won 739 races and saddled 24 world champions.
He won his first thoroughbred race on Oct. 20, 1977, at Santa Anita. He won his last race at Churchill Downs on June 12 with 4-year-old colt Tour Player.
In between, he won the Kentucky Derby four times, the Preakness seven times and the Belmont Stakes four times. He has won 20 Breeders’ Cup races. He won the Eclipse Award for top trainer four times and was the leading trainer by wins four straight years from 1987 to 1990. In 1995, he won all three Triple Crown races but with two different horses; Thunder Gulch won the Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes and Timber Country won the Preakness. It was the first time a trainer accomplished that feat.
“The most enduring and essential sports legacies can also be the most complicated,” wrote NBC’s Tim Layden, a multiple Eclipse Award-winning journalist, upon learning of Lukas’ illness. “The very best are not just driven, but obsessive. Not just creative, but ingenious. Not just hungry, but voracious. Jordan. Woods. Ali. Armstrong. Rose. One of Lukas’ favorites, and a close friend: Bob Knight. To name a few. … Transcendence demands a selfish eccentricity; because greatness and normalcy are often mutually exclusive. Lukas has lived long enough to earn a warm embrace that he would not have received as a younger man, but that embrace alone doesn’t tell enough of his outsized story and his place in racing history, where he stands very much alone.”
Lukas first made his thoroughbred mark in 1980 when he won the Preakness with Codex. It was not a popular win as Codex beat Derby-winning filly Genuine Risk and then had to withstand an inquiry to officially give Lukas his first Triple Crown win.
Bookending that win was his last Triple Crown race victory, when he won the Preakness last year with Seize the Grey.
“One of the things that was very significant to me [that day] — and maybe it’s because I’m getting a little bit older — but as I came out of the grandstand and out across the racetrack, every one of the guys that were in that race stopped and hugged me and gave me a handshake,” Lukas told The Times after the race.
“That meant more to me than any single thing. [Bob] Baffert, Kenny McPeek, right down the line.”
Lukas did not get the nickname Coach because of his days as a basketball coach but because of the coaching tree he established during his tenure.
Among those that were his assistants were Hall of Famer Todd Pletcher, future Hall of Famer Brad Cox, Kiaran McLaughlin, Dallas Stewart, Mike Maker, Mark Hennig, Randy Bradshaw, George Weaver and Bobby Barnett.
Among those Lukas was closest to, but never worked for, is Baffert.
“I asked him for a job one time out of high school, and he turned me down,” Baffert told The Times in 2018, while he was on his Triple Crown run with Justify. “I tell him, ‘I’m sure glad you turned me down because you’d be taking all the credit for this.’ But he probably would have fired me after two weeks because he works way too hard.”
Lukas later introduced Baffert at his U.S. Racing Hall of Fame induction ceremony.
“He told me everybody was laughing and kidding [when they heard I was inducting him,]” Lukas told The Times in 2018. “They were saying he’s not going to have Wayne do it because they thought we were rivals. Yet he came to me, and I said, ‘Bob, I’ll be honored to present you.’ And I did.”
“The media portrayed us as rivals and everything, so we would go along with you guys and then we’d go to dinner later,” Lukas said of Baffert.
“We’ve been friends for a long time. I have great respect for his ability. He’s got an excellent eye for a horse. He’s one of the few guys in the sale that when I pick one out that I like, I know sure as hell he’ll be bidding too.”
Seize the Grey’s trainer, D. Wayne Lukas, left, shakes hands with Bob Baffert, Imagination’s trainer, after Lukas’ horse won the Preakness Stakes in 2024.
(Julia Nikhinson / Associated Press)
In fact, this year at the Preakness Alibi Breakfast, an annual affair at Pimlico where trainers, owners and others tell stories and trade barbs about their career and horses, Lukas and Baffert hijacked the event with witty repartee and joking much to the delight of those in attendance. Their friendship was borne out as genuine.
“The horses were everything to Wayne,” Baffert posted on X after learning of Lukas’ death. “They were his life. From the way he worked them, how he cared for them, and how he maintained his shedrow as meticulously as he did his horses. No detail was too small. Many of us got our graduate degrees in training by studying how Wayne did it. Behind his famous shades, he was a tremendous horseman, probably the greatest who ever lived.”
Lukas’ life on the racetrack had one significant downside, when his son and assistant, Jeff, was run over and permanently injured by a loose horse at Santa Anita in 1993.
“I have a phone with one of those long cords,” Lukas told The Times’ Dwyre in 1999, “and so, I was up and walking around and right near the door when it happened. I was the first one to get to him.”
“One of Lukas’ Triple Crown prospects, Tabasco Cat, had bolted and was loose,” Dwyre wrote. “Jeff Lukas, a veteran horseman well schooled in the procedures for such situations, had stepped in Tabasco Cat’s path and was waving his arms. Horses always stop, or veer away. But this time…
“It’s like when you meet somebody in a narrow hallway,” Lukas said. “You go right and he goes right, and then you both go the other way. But eventually, one goes right and one left. Well, Jeff and the horse both went the same way.”
“Witnesses say that the sound of Jeff Lukas’ head hitting hard, compact ground after the collision could be heard several barns away. There was no blood, just an unconscious, badly injured 36-year-old man.”
The next year, Jeff Lukas had recovered enough to return to the racetrack but it proved too difficult for him to work around horses safely. Jeff eventually moved to Oklahoma and lived in a home his father bought him until Jeff’s death in 2016 at age 58.
Santa Anita issued this statement on Sunday after learning of Lukas’ death.
“Santa Anita joins the racing community in mourning the passing of D. Wayne Lukas. … His on-track success was such that it was easy to overlook his outstanding horsemanship that we were lucky to often witness back at the barn, away from the spotlight.”
Funeral arrangements for Wayne Lukas were not immediately announced.
Lukas is survived by his fifth wife, Laurie; grandchildren Brady Wayne Lukas and Kelly Roy; and great-grandchildren Johnny Roy, Thomas Roy, Walker Wayne Lukas and Quinn Palmer Lukas.
In the summer of 2021, Priscilla Presley seemed to be riding high.
The ex-wife of the King of Rock ’n’ Roll had appeared at Graceland during the annual Elvis Week celebration and later hosted a three-day festival at the famous manse extolling the virtues of elegant southern living. Then there were the highly anticipated upcoming biopics: director Baz Luhrmann’s “Elvis” and Sofia Coppola’s “Priscilla” based on her 1985 memoir, for which she served as an executive producer.
Privately, however, it was a difficult time for the actress. Priscilla was mourning the passing of her mother, just a year after her grandson, Benjamin Keough, the only son of her daughter Lisa Marie Presley, had committed suicide at 27. Adding to her personal woes, Elvis’ former bride was in a serious financial hole, as court filings would later claim.
Then she met Brigitte Kruse, a flamboyant, fifth-generation auctioneer and self-styled philanthropist who specialized in high-profile celebrity memorabilia, royal objects, estates and fine jewelry sales. In 2017, Kruse gained a measure of renown when she sold an abandoned private plane known as the “lost jet” once owned by Elvis for $498,000.
After the pair were introduced, they launched a joint venture that would cash in on Priscilla’s famous name, image and likeness through her paid public appearances and other projects.
Within months of their initial meeting, Priscilla began lending her name to some of Kruse’s online Elvis memorabilia auctions with GWS Auctions Inc., based in Agoura Hills.
Priscilla Presley at a 2014 event held at Graceland in Memphis.
(Lance Murphey / Associated Press)
Less than two years later, their partnership was in tatters, with the two women trading bitter allegations in dueling lawsuits.
Priscilla, 80, called Kruse, who was half her age, a “con-artist and pathological liar” who had forced her into a “form of indentured servitude,” leading her into signing away 80% of her income and conning her out of more than $1 million, according to the fraud and elder abuse lawsuit she filed against Kruse and her business associates in Los Angeles last year.
Kruse, who did not respond to requests for comment, has disputed Priscilla Presley’s claims, depicting herself in court filings as her financial savior who faced retaliation after she sued Priscilla for breach of contract a year earlier.
The litigation is the latest in a string of legal battles that Priscilla and the Presley heirs have been involved in since Elvis died nearly 50 years ago, leaving a financial legacy as messy and fraught as the King’s life.
While the storied Presley family has forever been enshrined in celebrity as America’s reigning pop culture icons, Elvis’ estate has long been the spigot of his heirs’ fortunes and misfortunes, spilling out from the gates of Graceland.
As Joel Weinshanker, managing partner of Elvis Presley Enterprises once said about another dispute involving the estate:
“People have been trying to take from Elvis since Elvis was Elvis.”
Inheriting a messy estate
When 14-year-old Priscilla Beaulieu met Elvis Presley in 1959, he was already Elvis. She was the stepdaughter of an U.S. Air Force officer, living in West Germany where the rocker, then 24, was stationed during his military service.
Four years later, Priscilla moved to Memphis and stepped inside the gilded cage of Elvis’ fame. In 1967, the couple married in Las Vegas. With the birth of their daughter Lisa Marie nine months later, a rock ‘n’ roll dynasty was born.
Lisa Marie was born in 1968, nine months after Elvis and Priscilla married in Las Vegas.
(Associated Press)
But life inside of the irresistible mythology of Elvis proved stifling. He was mostly on tour and in a haze of drugs and affairs. At 28, Priscilla divorced the rocker, but not his stardom.
She built an agile career out of the ashes of their romance. Priscilla went on to become an actress with a recurring role in the 1980s CBS hit series “Dallas,” starred in several of the “Naked Gun” movies and appeared in other television shows; she also authored books and launched a fragrance.
But she never strayed far from the buzzy afterlife of Elvis’ orbit.
When Elvis died in 1977, their daughter Lisa Marie was just nine and his father, Vernon Presley, took the reins as executor of his estate. After Vernon died in 1979, Priscilla, a successor trustee, assumed the role of primary manager.
Despite the celebrated influence and global popularity of Elvis, who was estimated to have earned anywhere between $100 million to $1 billion, his estate was in shambles — worth only about $5 million. Graceland’s costly maintenance and massive IRS bills were fast depleting Lisa Marie’s inheritance.
The poor state of affairs was due in part to Elvis’ profligate spending. He was known to lavish Cadillacs and jewelry on friends, many of whom were also on his payroll. But his fortune’s wane was exacerbated by the abusive control that his longtime manager Col. Tom Parker exerted over his business affairs.
Elvis performing in Honolulu in 1973.
(Pål Grandlund)
The cigar-chomping Parker, who died in 1997, was a former carnival barker and a compulsive gambler. He wasn’t, however, a colonel — the Dutch-born “Parker’s” real name was Andreas Cornelis van Kuijk.
During his time as Elvis’ manager, Parker took commissions as high as 50%, and frequently cut deals that enriched himself at the rocker’s expense.
Four years before Elvis died, Parker sold off his back catalog to RCA for $5.4 million (with Parker taking $2.6 million and Elvis $2.8 million), depriving the estate of untold millions in royalties.
In 1981, the co-executors of Elvis’ estate (an attorney separately represented Lisa Marie), sued Parker for massive fraud and mismanagement, claiming he received the “lion’s share” of Elvis’ income, even after his death. The parties eventually reached an out-of-court settlement.
Reviving Graceland
But the years of profound missteps and mismanagement left Elvis’ estate facing the prospect of bankruptcy and worse, having to sell Graceland. Priscilla brought in a team of financial advisors and lawyers who engineered a stunning financial turnaround.
In 1981, the Elvis Presley Trust created Elvis Presley Enterprises Inc. to conduct business and manage the trust’s assets, including Graceland, which was opened to the public the following year. Now a National Historic Landmark, the tourist shrine generates an estimated $10 million annually.
By the time Lisa Marie inherited her father’s estate upon her 25th birthday in 1993, the estate had rebounded. Two decades later, Graceland, along with the merchandising of Elvis’ image and managing his music royalties, was worth upward of $500 million.
Elvis on the grounds of his Graceland estate circa 1957.
(Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images)
Then, in 2005, Elvis’ estate changed hands. Lisa Marie agreed to sell 85% of EPE’s assets, including her father’s likeness rights, to music entrepreneur Robert F.X. Sillerman and his company CKX Inc. for $114 million.
Under the deal, Lisa Marie retained 15% of the trust and received $50 million in cash as well as $26 million in CKX common and preferred stock. She also retained sole ownership of Graceland and her father’s personal items. Priscilla received $6.5 million for the use of the family name, Fortune reported.
But in 2013, CKX Inc. sold its majority interest in the estate to the intellectual property firm Authenic Brands Group for a reported $145 million.
The problems that had long trailed the estate surfaced again five years later.
This time it was Lisa Marie who alleged she had been duped. Then 50 and in the middle of divorcing her fourth husband Michael Lockwood, the father of her twin girls, she sued her business manager Barry Siegel. She claimed that as a result of his “reckless and negligent mismanagement” the trust had dwindled to just $14,000 and was left with $500,000 in credit card debt.
Lisa Marie Presley in her childhood bedroom at Graceland in 2012.
(Lance Murphey/AP)
Siegel denied the allegations and countersued, claiming that she had “squandered” her fortune as a result of her “excessive spending.” At the time, court filings related to her divorce from Lockwood, revealed that she was $16.7 million in debt.
A mother, daughter feud
When Lisa Marie died suddenly in January 2023 at the age of 54, another tense legal battle erupted over the estate and the trust Lisa Marie had set up.
Within weeks of her death, Priscilla went to court to challenge an amendment that removed her as a trustee, making her granddaughter, the actress Riley Keough, sole trustee. Priscilla’s lawyers argued that the signature was “inconsistent” with Lisa Marie’s handwriting.
The matter was settled five months later. Keough was named sole trustee. In exchange for stepping down, Priscilla received a $1-million lump sum payment paid out of Lisa Marie’s $25-million life insurance policy and was made a special advisor for a trust relating to EPE, for which she would receive $100,000 annually for 10 years or until her death.
Priscilla was also granted permission to be buried in the Meditation Garden at Graceland near Elvis’ gravesite and to be given a memorial service on the property.
‘Dame’ Kruse
By spring 2023, as Priscilla resolved her dispute with her daughter’s estate, Kruse’s presence and influence in her personal and business affairs deepened.
When they met, Priscilla was in her mid-70s and her main source of income derived from her paid personal appearances. Kruse’s suit described Presley’s celebrity as “a mere shadow of what it once was, and her earning potential was only a fraction of what it previously was.”
Moreover, she claimed that Priscilla was 60 days away from financial disaster, and drowning under $700,000 in outstanding tax debts.
Then 39, Kruse was publicly portrayed as a success, active in the worlds of celebrity and philanthropy and who spoke multiple languages. She highlighted her advocacy for children with autism and AIDS research; donating money to related causes and delivering toys to orphans in global conflict zones with her husband, Vahe Sislyan.
On social media and in news releases, Kruse showcased her activities and accolades, posting images alongside various marquee names such as the pop star Gwen Stefani and President Trump and his wife Melania.
In 2016, seven years after Kruse and her husband founded GWS, she was the first female auctioneer to make it into the Guinness Book of World Records (for selling the largest abandoned world property). Kruse formally added the honorific title “Dame” to her name after a member of the royal Italian Medici family conferred the title of Cavaliere, a kind of knighthood, on her.
In media interviews, Kruse liked to say that the sale of Elvis’ “lost jet” had seared her reputation as the rocker’s memorabilia dealer. Over the years she was prolific, selling a number of his items, including the Smith & Wesson that he was said to have purchased in 1973 after he was attacked onstage in Las Vegas.
According to Priscilla, she first met Kruse in June 2021 after the auctioneer texted her saying she’d like to meet for lunch.
They dined at Gucci Osteria in Beverly Hills followed by numerous other get-togethers in Los Angeles. Kruse introduced her to her “business partner,” Kevin Fialko, “an investor, experienced businessman, and financial expert,” who “would help Kruse get my financial affairs in order,” according to a declaration submitted by Priscilla.
Dame Brigitte Kruse and Priscilla Presley at an event in Orlando in 2023.
(Gerardo Mora/Getty Images)
“When I first met Brigitte Kruse, she wanted to involve me in her auction business,” she wrote in her March declaration.
From there, Kruse “quickly immersed herself” in Priscilla’s life, “often sending her multiple text messages a day, and “telling her how much she loved her and admired her,” according to her elder abuse complaint. She also talked up her credentials, lineage and expertise in the auction business as well as her “connections to celebrities.”
In September 2021, Priscilla participated in one of GWS’ online auctions that featured a private lunch with her and Kruse, with a portion of the proceeds going to a charity. A number of Elvis items were also auctioned off, such as the white eyelet jumpsuit cape he wore during his 1972 performances at Madison Square Garden and a jar of his hair.
“She’s just such a wealth of experience and knowledge. You don’t study and learn about Elvis without learning about Priscilla as well. Their names are synonymous,” Kruse told People.
The following year, Kruse’s GWS conducted an online auction billed as “The Lost Jewelry Collection of Elvis Presley and Colonel Tom Parker,” including watches, rings and cuff links that Elvis had bought or commissioned for his manager.
Although she didn’t own any of the items, Priscilla provided “letters of recollection” vouching for her personal historical memories of many of them, according to the auction’s online catalog notes.
“There is so much product out there that is not authentic at all and that worries me,” she said in a video with Reuters after viewing the collection. “I want to know for sure that that is going to go to someone who is going to care for it, love it.”
By January 2023, Priscilla and Kruse agreed to set up several companies to exploit Priscilla’s name and image and to bolster Kruse’s Elvis memorabilia auctions through Priscilla’s written “recollections.”
The terms of their agreement gave Kruse 51% and Presley 49% of Priscilla Presley Partners LLC, according to court filings.
Soon after, however, Priscilla alleged Kruse and Fialko “expanded the scope of their interest in my affairs, seeking to inject themselves into every area of my life.”
They gained her trust and isolated her from key advisors, setting the stage for “a meticulously planned and abhorrent scheme,” intended “to drain her of every last penny she had,” Presley alleged in her lawsuit.
Presley says that she was “fraudulently induced” to sign documents without the opportunity to review them in advance or “advised as to the nature of the paperwork.”
The contracts gave Kruse a controlling interest in her name, image and likeness in perpetuity. They also granted her power of attorney over Priscilla’s affairs and healthcare and named Kruse a trustee on her personal and family trusts, according to Priscilla’s declaration.
Along with Fialko, Kruse closed Priscilla’s bank accounts and opened new ones “in an effort to transfer the funds of Presley’s various personal, business and trust accounts.”
Priscilla claims she also signed a five-year lease on a house in Orlando, Fla., owned by Sislyan, that she never asked for or wanted.
Further, Priscilla alleges in a declaration that Kruse and Fialko leaned on Coppola to get a credit on the biopic and diverted $120,000 of money Presley earned from the film into their own accounts.
When Lisa Marie died, Priscilla contended that Kruse and Fialko improperly inserted themselves into her legal dispute over her daughter’s trust, she said in her complaint. They also had the “audacity” to demand that they were allowed “ to attend any memorial service for Presley in the future,” she added.
By August 2023, Priscilla severed ties with Kruse.
A lawyer representing Kruse and Fialko did not respond to a request for comment.
A few months later, Kruse, through Priscilla Presley Partners, sued for breach of contract, saying Priscilla asked Kruse to take over her business affairs, requiring her to “devote her attention full-time to managing Priscilla’s life” in order to “monetize various aspects of her [Presley’s] life.”
Kruse and Fialko maintained they worked tirelessly to keep Priscilla from “financial ruin and public embarrassment,” and that she fully understood the agreements she was signing.
Meanwhile, others began to question the authenticity around some of GWS’s Elvis sales.
When GWS held another online auction of Elvis memorabilia in January 2023 that included a one-of-a-kind grommet jacket that Elvis wore in 1972, it drew the attention of Elvis Presley Enterprises.
“We know there was only one made, and guess what? We have it in our archives,” Weinshanker, EPE’s managing partner, told NBC News, last July.
GWS said the claims were unsubstantiated: “GWS stands behind everything that it sells, and categorically denies tracking in fake or inauthentic items attributed to Elvis Presley, or otherwise.”
The tensions escalated last November, after GWS announced another “lost” collection auction of Elvis and Col. Parker memorabilia, comprising 400 items.
Priscilla Presley, her daughter Lisa Marie and grandaughters: Riley Keough, Harper Lockwood and Finley Lockwood at an event honoring the Presley family at the TCL Chinese Theatre in Los Angeles in 2022.
(Jordan Strauss/Invision/AP)
The cache of documents included telegrams Elvis and Parker sent to Frank Sinatra, the Beatles and others, handwritten notes and Elvis’ signed 1956 contract with the New Frontier Hotel in Las Vegas, included in the auction, that rang alarm bells.
The estate’s lawyers in December sent a cease and desist letter to GWS, claiming the listed auction items were the property of Graceland and demanded their immediate return. Nonetheless, GWS went forward with the sale, contending in a letter it had acted appropriately. , On Dec. 24, the estate sued GWS, Kruse and two others, claiming the items belonged to Graceland and were “improperly and illegally offered for sale at auction.” They sought to recover at least 74 “irreplaceable documents,” and alleged that the defendants were in “possession of perhaps thousands more such items.”
According to the suit, the allegedly “stolen” items were part of an enormous trove that the estate acquired from Parker in 1990 for $1.25 million. GWS has denied that it had engaged in “any wrongdoing whatsoever.”
Elvis’ estate alleges that a former Parker employee named Greg McDonald “took possession” of the documents that should have been turned over to Graceland after Parker died.
Instead, when McDonald died in 2024, his widow Sherry and son Thomas McDonald, who are named as defendants, “took possession of the Property and then delivered it to Brigitte Kruse for sale at GWS,” the lawsuit states.
The suit further asserted that Kruse was aware of the circumstances in which Greg McDonald obtained the items before putting them up for sale. In an email thread between Kruse and Graceland’s longtime archivist in 2021, included in the filings, Kruse wrote that she had a video of her in conversation with McDonald in which he “admits to knowing of the theft,” in regards to the documents.
Over 600,000 visitors go to Graceland each year, earning the estate an estimated $10 million annually.
(Raymond Boyd/Getty Images)
An attorney for Kruse disputed the claim, saying in a statement that when she had informed the Elvis estate of the existence of McDonald’s collection in 2021, “they did not make a claim to Mr. McDonald alleging that the collection was not rightfully his.”
GWS “never maintained care, custody or control of any of the items” that were auctioned,” the statement read. “We will continue to respect the judicial process and the outcome of the ongoing litigation.”
In a statement to The Times on behalf of himself and his mother, Thomas McDonald said: “The property in which Graceland and Elvis Presley Enterprises are asserting ownership has been in my family’s possession for over forty years as gifts from the Colonel. I am committed to resolving this dispute and vindicating my family’s rights as expediently and fairly as possible.”
Lawyers for EPE and Graceland Holdings did not respond to a request for comment.
As the various lawsuits were unfolding, last April, GWS Auctions was suspended by the Franchise Tax board in California, effectively losing its standing to operate legally due to noncompliance with tax requirements.
In court filings, Kruse and her co-defendants are cited as saying that GWS is “defunct.” However, GWS’ website remains active and currently lists the results of its most recent auction: the Artifacts of Hollywood and Music sale held on June 7 (that included the racing helmet Elvis wore in “Viva Las Vegas,” that sold for $6,500).
Last month, Elvis’ former wife scored a legal win when a Los Angeles Superior Court judge denied a motion by Kruse and her business associates to temporarily put a hold on the elder abuse lawsuit in an effort to move the litigation to Florida.
In his ruling, Judge Mark H. Epstein expressed frustration with the defendants’ “never-ending series of motions,” underscoring that this was not a a contract-based case. Presley “is suing these defendants for fraud and elder abuse, an aspect of which was allegedly bamboozling her into signing those agreements in the first place.”
The ongoing clash with Kruse has left Priscilla “devastated,” said her attorney, Wayne Harman. “We look forward to the court holding defendants fully accountable for their actions,” he said in a statement.
Amid the fallout with Kruse, the estate faced another controversy.
A mysterious company, Naussany Investments & Private Lending, presented documents claiming that Lisa Marie had borrowed $3.8 million and put up Graceland as collateral but had failed to repay the loan before she died.
But it was an elaborate scam, according to federal authorities, who in August arrested a Missouri woman, Lisa Jeanine Findley, alleging she used fake documents to “steal the family’s ownership interest in Graceland” and attemped to put it up for sale.
In February, Findley pleaded guilty to mail fraud for her role in the scheme and is scheduled to be sentenced this week. She faces a maximum penalty of 20 years in prison.
Douglas McCarthy, the singer of the pioneering U.K. proto-industrial band Nitzer Ebb, has died. He was 58.
The band confirmed the news on its social media accounts. It did not list a cause of death.
“It is with a heavy heart that we regret to inform that Douglas McCarthy passed away this morning of June 11th, 2025,” Nitzer Ebb wrote. “We ask everyone to please be respectful of Douglas, his wife, and family in this difficult time. We appreciate your understanding and will share more information soon.”
McCarthy founded the group Nitzer Ebb in Essex, with David Gooday and Bon Harris. The band released its first single, “Isn’t It Funny How Your Body Works,” in 1985, on its own independent Power of Voice Communications label.
The band drew aesthetics from the experiments of post-punk and the nascent goth movement of the time, with admiration for sinister yet seductive acts like the Birthday Party, Bauhaus and Malaria.
McCarthy and his bandmates paired that sensibility with the new potential of electronic music, crafting a harsh and antagonistic style that moved like club music but hit like punk. The style came to be known as EBM (electronic body music), and their 1987 Geffen debut LP, “That Total Age,” played a formative role in the industrial wave to come, anticipating the rise of acts like Nine Inch Nails and Rammstein and, later, Cold Cave and Gesaffelstein.
With howled, deadpan lyrics like on “Join in the Chant,” McCarthy set a template for how punk’s urgency could lock into dance music’s meticulousness. Other cuts, like “Let Your Body Learn,” became fixtures in acid house and techno DJ sets.
The band followed it up with 1989’s “Belief,” with famed producer Flood, and released three more LP’s before dissolving in 1995. McCarthy worked with former tour mate Depeche Mode’s Alan Wilder on the side project Recoil, and collaborated with techno producer Terence Fixmer.
McCarthy revived Nitzer Ebb in 2007 and released the return-to-form LP “Industrial Complex” in 2010. McCarthy also released “Kill Your Friends,” a solo album, in 2012.
While Nitzer Ebb toured regularly into the present day, McCarthy faced health issues late in life, dropping off a 2024 European tour citing liver cirrhosis.
“After years of alcohol abuse, I was diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver,” McCarthy said on Instagram last year. “For more than two years I haven’t been drinking, but recovery is a long process that can at times be extremely hard to predict.”
Georgia O’Connor, a British boxer who was unbeaten in her young professional career, has died at age 25.
The promotion company BOXXER said in a statement Thursday that it was “heartbroken by the passing” of a fighter it had represented for all three of her professional bouts.
“A true warrior inside and outside the ring, the boxing community has lost a talented, courageous and determined young woman far too soon,” the company wrote. “Georgia was loved, respected and admired by her friends here at BOXXER. Our thoughts are with her loved ones at this difficult time.”
No cause of death has been given, but O’Connor had revealed on Jan. 31 on Instagram that she had been diagnosed with cancer.
“I’m still smiling and that smile will NEVER fade, no matter what,” she wrote. “We’ve already got an amazing oncologist on my case and we’ve made sure I’m going to have the best treatment and healing possible. Starting NOW.”
A GoFundMe page, which O’Connor had said was set up by her parents to help cover her medical bills, described the cancer as “rare and aggressive.”
“Doctors are calling it ‘incurable,’” the fundraiser’s description states.
Georgia O Connor attends an event at the Royal Albert Hall on March 7 in London.
(Jordan Peck / Getty Images)
“From the moment I was diagnosed with cancer, Adriano didn’t hesitate,” O’Connor wrote Feb. 3 on Instagram. “He quit his job without a second thought and made it his mission to fight this battle alongside me. Not just by my side, but leading the charge, doing everything in his power to save me.”
O’Connor was born Feb 18. 2000, in County Durham, England. Her father introduced her to boxing very soon afterward, she told SkySports in 2021.
“My dad put a pair of gloves on me before I could walk,” she said. “He always wanted me to be able to look after me. He never wanted me to be a superstar, my family aren’t like that. He just wanted me to defend myself because the world isn’t a nice place.”
She added: “I was a three-time national taekwondo champion, undefeated in kickboxing, but my heart has always been with boxing.”
As a youth boxer, O’Connor won a gold medal at the Commonwealth Youth Games in 2017 and a silver and bronze at the Youth World Championships in 2017 and 2018. She won all three of her professional fights, between October 2021 and October 2022, later revealing she did so while suffering from what was eventually diagnosed as ulcerative colitis.
“I was going to the toilet between 15 and 20 times per day,” O’Connor wrote Feb. 9, 2024, on Instagram. “… I had pain in my joints and unbearable bowel cramps almost every day. I had 3 professional boxing fights during this time, all of which I somehow managed to win without any form of medication or treatment.”
O’Connor also revealed in February on Instagram that she had suffered a miscarriage within “the last few months.”
England Boxing paid tribute on Thursday to one of its rising stars in a statement .
“A hugely talented boxer and much-loved member of the boxing community, Georgia inspired many with her achievements in the ring and her spirit outside of it,” the sport’s governing body in England wrote. “Her dedication, passion, and talent made her a role model for young athletes across the country. Georgia’s legacy will live on in the hearts of those she inspired, and she will be deeply missed by all who knew her.”
International Boxing Federation and World Boxing Organization super bantamweight champion Ellie Scotney addresssed her late friend on Instagram.
“Being a pure soul and a good person gets thrown around so much, but you my friend are the definition of every word of that and so much more,” Scotney wrote. “I still can picture that timid shy but larger than life young girl walking on her tip toes a few steps in front of me, little did I know that very same girl was going to show not just me but the whole world how special life is and mostly how to live by every second.
“Even when life was on a timer, you never let anything dim that light of yours. A smile that never ever fades, and a heart that will forever live on in so many ways. There was nothing you couldn’t do, the world at your very feet no matter what room you entered. I was so blessed with not just a friend for 10 years, but a sister for life.”
WASHINGTON — The revelation that former President Biden has advanced prostate cancer generated more questions than answers on Monday, prompting debate among experts in the oncology community over the likely progression of his disease and resurfacing concerns in Washington over his decision last year to run for reelection.
Biden’s private office said Sunday afternoon that he had been diagnosed earlier in the week with an “aggressive form” of the cancer that had already spread to his bones, after urinary symptoms led to the discovery of a nodule on his prostate.
But it was not made clear whether Biden, 82, had been testing his prostate-specific antigens, known as PSA levels, during his presidency — and if so whether those results had indicated an elevated risk of cancer while he was still in office or during his campaign for reelection.
Biden’s diagnosis comes at a difficult time for the former president, as scrutiny grows over his decision to run for a second term last year — and whether it cost the Democrats the White House. Biden ultimately dropped out of the race after a devastating debate performance with Donald Trump laid bare widespread concerns over his age and health, leaving his successor on the Democratic ticket — Vice President Kamala Harris — little time to run her own campaign.
A book set to publish this week titled “Original Sin,” by journalists Jake Tapper and Alex Thompson, details efforts by Biden’s aides to shield the effects of his aging from the public and the press. The cancer diagnosis only intensified scrutiny over Biden’s health and questions as to whether he and his team were honest about it with the public.
“I think those conversations are going to happen,” said David Axelrod, a former senior advisor to President Obama.
President Trump, asked about Biden’s diagnosis during an Oval Office event Monday, said it was “a very, very sad situation” and that he felt “badly about it.”
But he also questioned why the cancer wasn’t caught earlier, and why the public wasn’t notified earlier, tying the situation to questions he has long raised about Biden’s mental fitness to serve as president.
PSA tests are not typically recommended for men over 70 due to the risk of false positive results or of associated treatments causing more harm than good to older patients, who are more likely to die of other causes first.
But annual physicals for sitting presidents — especially of Biden’s age — are more comprehensive than those for private citizens. And a failure to test for elevated PSA levels could have missed the progression of the disease.
A letter from Biden’s White House physician from February of last year made no mention of PSA testing, unlike the most recent letter detailing the results of Trump’s latest physical, which references a normal measurement. Biden’s current aides did not respond to requests for comment on whether his office would further detail his diagnostic testing history.
Even if his doctors had tested for PSA levels at the time, results may not have picked up an aggressive form of the cancer, experts said.
Some specialists in the field said it was possible, if rare, for Biden’s cancer to emerge and spread since his last physical in the White House. Roughly 10% of patients who are newly diagnosed with prostate cancer are found with an advanced form of the disease that has metastasized to other parts of the body.
Dr. Mark Litwin, the chair of UCLA Urology, said it is in the nature of aggressive prostate cancers to grow quickly. “So it is likely that this tumor began more recently,” he said.
Litwin said he does not doubt that Biden would have been screened for elevated PSA levels. But, he said, he could be among those patients whose cancers do not produce elevated PSA levels or whose more aggressive cancers rapidly grow and metastasize within a matter of months.
“The fact that he has metastatic disease at diagnosis, to me, as an expert in the area and as a clinician taking care of guys with prostate cancer all the time, just says that he is unfortunate,” Litwin said.
Litwin and other experts in prostate cancer from USC, Stanford, Johns Hopkins, Cedars-Sinai and the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute all told The Times that Biden’s diagnosis — at least based on publicly available information — was not incredibly unusual, and similar to diagnoses received by older American men all the time.
They said he and his doctors absolutely would have discussed testing his PSA levels, given his high level of care as president. But they also said it would have been well within medical best practices for him to decide with those doctors to stop getting tested given his age.
Dr. Howard Sandler, chair of the Department of Radiation Oncology at Cedars-Sinai, said he sees three potential explanations for Biden’s diagnosis.
One is that Biden and his doctors made a decision “to not screen any longer, which would be well within the standard of care” given Biden’s age, he said.
A second is that Biden’s was tested, and his PSA level “was elevated, maybe not dramatically but a little bit elevated, but they said, ‘Well, we’re not gonna really investigate it,’” again because of Biden’s age, Sandler said.
The third, which Sandler said was “less likely,” is that Biden’s PSA was checked “and was fine, but he ended up with an aggressive prostate cancer that doesn’t produce much PSA” and so wasn’t captured.
Zeke Emanuel, an oncologist serving as vice provost for global initiatives at the University of Pennsylvania and a former health policy official in the Biden administration, told MSNBC that Biden has likely had cancer for “more than several years.”
“He did not develop it in the last 100, 200 days. He had it while he was president. He probably had it at the start of his presidency, in 2021,” Emanuel said.
But Litwin, who said he is a friend of Emanuel’s, said most men in their 70s or 80s have some kind of prostate cancer, even if it is just “smoldering along” — there but not particularly aggressive or quickly spreading — and unlikely to be the cause of their death.
Cancer touches us all. Like so many of you, Jill and I have learned that we are strongest in the broken places. Thank you for lifting us up with love and support. pic.twitter.com/oSS1vGIiwU
He said Biden may well have had some similar form of cancer in his prostate for a long time, but that he did not believe that the aggressive form that has metastasized would have been around for as long as Emanuel seemed to suggest.
Departing Rome aboard Air Force Two, Vice President JD Vance told reporters he was sending his best wishes to the former president, but expressed concern that his recent diagnosis underscored concerns over Biden’s condition that dogged his presidency.
“Whether the right time to have this conversation is now or in the future, we really do need to be honest about whether the former president was capable of doing the job,” Vance said. “I don’t think that he was in good enough health. In some ways, I blame him less than I blame the people around him.”
Trump’s medical team has also faced questions of transparency.
When Trump was diagnosed with COVID-19 during his first term, at the height of the pandemic, he was closer to death than his White House acknowledged at the time. And his doctors and aides regularly use superlatives to describe the health of the 78-year-old president, with Karoline Leavitt, his White House press secretary, referring to him as “perfect” on Monday.
“Cancer touches us all,” Biden posted on social media alongside a photo with his wife, Jill Biden, in his first remarks on his diagnosis.
“Like so many of you, Jill and I have learned that we are strongest in the broken places,” he added. “Thank you for lifting us up with love and support.”
