few year

Ian McKellen is saying goodbye to his dear friend Patrick Stewart.

Stewart, the storied actor whose performances spanned comic book films, Shakespearean stage productions and sci-fi TV, died Wednesday at his home in Los Angeles after a battle with Alzheimer’s disease and Lewy body dementia. He was 86. While tributes from former co-stars across the “X-Men” films and “Star Trek” franchise poured in, fans of Stewart were keeping a close eye out for McKellen’s remarks, as the two had a famously close friendship, often on full display with red-carpet smooches and pally interviews.

On Thursday, McKellen posted a tribute to Stewart.

“Before everything else, Patrick was defined by being born and bred in Yorkshire, the proud county in the north of England which he loved to the end,” McKellen’s statement began. “You could hear it in his accented voice and in the stern honesty with which he told you what he thought and felt. Yorkshiremen have no truck with half-truths or avoidance of big issues. He wore his heart on his sleeve, which made him a man to rely on, to admire and in my case, love.”

Although the two had known each other since they were young actors with the Royal Shakespeare Company in the 1970s, Stewart said he initially was too shy to approach McKellen, but was “impressed.” Stewart said the two had “X-Men” to thank for their close bond. On set, the two had trailers that were next door to each other, and with time to kill between filming, they would head next door and chat for hours.

“It was a delight for me to find that the enthusiasms and passions that I’d had all my life were shared by Ian,” the late actor said in a 2014 interview. When asked to write a hashtag that summed up their bromance, Stewart wrote #Aren’twelucky, and McKellen wrote #eternal.

In addition to playing rivals across multiple “X-Men” films, Patrick and McKellen starred together in “Waiting for Godot” and “No Man’s Land” on Broadway and London’s West End.

“We first met as ambitious young actors with the Royal Shakespeare Company half a century ago but we weren’t in the same productions,” McKellen’s tribute continued. “My first strong memory was a few years later, meeting him in the street in central London when he told me about an offer to take over a leading part in ‘Star Trek.’”

McKellen recalled saying, “But Patrick think of your stage career in the UK. Do you really want to risk—getting lost in Hollywood for years and years?”

“Well, he took the risk and thank goodness for us all that he did for not just his devoted Trekkies but film and theatre audiences, who marvelled at his using international celebrity to star in a string of cinema successes (‘X-Men’ of course) and in great classical plays by Shakespeare, Ibsen, Arthur Miller, Peter Shaffer, Pinter and Beckett at Stratford-upon-Avon, in London’s West End and on Broadway.”

In 2014, Stewart admitted to Broadway.com that he was envious of McKellen for both his university education and his hair.

“Ian knows and he thinks I’m foolish to feel this way,” he said. “Ian went to Cambridge and my formal schooling ended when I was 15. I envy that, but I also envy your head of hair. If only because in the two plays you don’t wear a wig and yet you manage to make your hairstyle look completely different … I envy that whereas I have to stick on a wig.”

McKellen responded by telling Stewart that he was gorgeous with and without the wig.

In 2013, Stewart married longtime girlfriend Sunny Ozell in a Lake Tahoe ceremony that McKellen officiated.

“America was his adopted home, where he met his adored Sunny who has cared for him through sickness and health, through thick and thin. But he never forsook his origins: and the proudest achievement of the most respected and beloved actor of his generation on either side of the Atlantic, was his appointment as Chancellor of Huddersfield University in Yorkshire.”

McKellen and Stewart star together again in the forthcoming “Avengers: Doomsday,” which hits theaters Dec. 18.

“For me, performance can’t be everything,” Miley Cyrus declared on Friday night, and you had to admire her choice of setting: onstage at the Hollywood Bowl in front of approximately 18,000 people who’d turned up precisely to see her perform.

A star since her teenage days on the Disney Channel’s “Hannah Montana,” the 33-year-old musician and actor was maybe half an hour into the first of two sold-out concerts at the iconic hillside amphitheater — a place close to Cyrus’ heart, as she explained in a videotaped intro recalling a gig she and her fiancé, Maxx Morando, caught last year by the French band Air.

“I step into wine, which soaks onto my boots,” she said in the dramatic black-and-white clip. “I don’t mind stained leather — it only adds to their character.”

Cyrus’ shows were billed as part of the rollout of her latest album, “Bass Persuades,” which came out in September (and which found her dropping her last name to go simply by Miley). Yet the two-night engagement is really meant to mark her grand return to the stage after she said a few years ago that she’d sworn off touring because it was too harmful to her mental health.

Is “grand” the right word for a comeback as equivocal as this one? Despite all the hype surrounding this weekend’s concerts, Cyrus spoke again and again Friday about how much less space for performance she has in her life these days than she used to; she talked repeatedly about her quest to balance her fans’ emotional needs with her own.

At one point, after singing a couple of numbers on a small B-stage about halfway up the bowl, she walked through the crowd back to the main stage, gripping and grinning the entire way. Then she described the toll her trip had just taken: “I appreciate each of you guys reaching out and touching me, and me getting to feel you. But I do want to say — it is a lot for me,” she said. “It is a little bit overwhelming.”

In an era of parasocial pop stardom, the radical honesty of Cyrus’ approach — her clear-eyed appraisal of the relationship that binds an idol and her audience — was kind of a thrill to behold. The problem was that her singing for the most part wasn’t.

As she described being overwhelmed, her band slowly revved up her song “Wrecking Ball.” It’s one of the great power ballads of the last 25 years, with a chorus as cathartic as any in modern pop; Cyrus, the showbiz lifer, surely understood the payoff she was building toward. Except when the moment arrived, she inexplicably dodged it, skipping the song’s first chorus and soft-pedaling the second — an anticlimax for the ages.

Indeed, Cyrus let the audience and her backup singers handle vocals for many of her biggest hits, among them “The Climb,” “Party in the U.S.A.” and “We Can’t Stop”; during that last one, she twerked for a second, evoking memories of the infamous 2013 MTV performance that briefly scandalized a nation.

She sang more heartily in songs from “Bass Persuades,” which would’ve been better news if that tuneless mishmash of bleary synths and dated club beats weren’t one of the year’s least likable pop records. (This month Variety reported that, after debuting at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, the album took the biggest fall in chart history in its second week of release.)

The paradox of Cyrus’ career at this stage is that she wants to do the thing that nobody wants her to do — “Bass Persuades” is just the latest in a string of crummy LPs — and doesn’t want to do the thing that everybody wants her to do. Truly, her bad taste should be studied: On Friday, she welcomed Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips to the B-stage for a duet on “Karen Don’t Be Sad,” from the miserable psych-rock record they made together in 2015. Naturally, Cyrus said it was her favorite of her albums.

One highlight of the show was Cyrus’ tribute to her late godmother, Dolly Parton, whom she memorialized with a rendition of “Jolene” and with a funny and touching account of the time Parton tried unsuccessfully to get Cyrus to sing with her at the Bowl.

I also found myself moved near the end of the night by Cyrus’ performance of the only keeper on “Bass Persuades” — a dreamy little love song called “Let’s Get Married” for which Morando joined her onstage. As he played drums, she ran her hand tenderly over his chest before laying her head on his shoulder; the moment reminded me of that goofy intro video about the Air concert, which she likened to a bubble containing only the two of them.

“That’s how it feels when we’re together,” she said. “I think I’d live in that bubble.”

R&B icon Stephanie Mills revealed she had an unresolved beef with “Mother Monster” Lady Gaga.

During Wednesday’s episode of “The Jason Lee Show,” the Grammy-winning “Wiz” star didn’t hold back when she explained what went down between her and Gaga and how the experience left a sour taste in her mouth.

“I feel like Lady Gaga is a culture vulture,” Mills said. “Can I tell you something. … I don’t even know if I should say it now.”

But Mills went on and said it anyway.

She said she was approached by her former manager a few years ago and asked to fly to New York, where Lady Gaga was doing a fashion shoot. Mills’ megahit “Home” was Gaga’s favorite song, according to the manager, who asked Mills, “Would you come and surprise her and sing?”

“At first I said no,” Mills continued. “Why would I do that? And I was talked into it. Never let somebody talk you into something.

“I went,” Mills said. “She had a little black dog there, and all the other people, and so I sang for her. She didn’t smile. She didn’t do anything. She looked at me like I had two heads.”

Mills said she finished singing “Home,” and the stars took photos, but before she left, Gaga’s team stopped her at the elevator and insisted she delete the pictures. “And they did not let us leave until they saw every picture being deleted,” she said. “Very disrespectful.”

The Broadway star further explained that she thought Gaga was a culture vulture because she was managed by a Black man, Troy Carter, who also worked with John Legend, Eve, Nelly, Meghan Trainor and Charlie Puth. Carter is widely credited with ushering the “Born This Way” singer into superstardom in the aughts.

“I know who I am. I did it. I sang a song for her. I had admiration for her. I don’t any longer,” Mills said.

“I give everybody grace, and I’ve learned throughout the years to take my temperature down and not react but show them who I am later. … It’s like you don’t have to always react, but sooner or later you’ll get your chance to say, ‘Do you remember?’”

She followed the statement by looking straight into the camera and addressing Gaga, “I hope you watch, and I hope you remember what you did. And I feel like you owe me an apology.”

Reps for Gaga did not immediately respond to The Times’ request for comment, but the star — as well as many other musicians and actors — has a history of nixing photographs.

With not-terrible odds heading into the 2028 Democratic primaries, Gov. Gavin Newsom is getting one shared warning whispered in his ear by roughly 3,729 political consultants right now: Do not mess with the murderers.

Do not, under any circumstance, follow that inner voice that may be telling you to commute the death sentences of the 563 killers on California’s death row to life without parole, as Newsom recently admitted he was considering. Doing so would be a stupid move for an Oval Office wannabe, one already hobbled by the progressive persona of the Golden State.

“I’m getting all those people in my ear,” Newsom said during a podcast conversation with Bryan Stevenson, one of the preeminent death penalty lawyers in the country. “Don’t do it. Politics.”

Newsom already dismantled San Quentin’s execution chamber a few years ago, so the state can’t kill people even if it wanted to. But the governor has made it clear that he opposes the death penalty in principle because every year the evidence mounts that its implementation is flawed and racially biased. As he put it, the decision on commuting the largest death row in the Western Hemisphere may be his “rocking chair test,” a measure of whether he will have lived up to his own ideals when he looks back on his life.

Most other western countries have already banned the death penalty, leaving the U.S. in the company of places including North Korea and Libya when it comes to this punishment. Twenty-three states have abolished it, and three besides California have a moratorium. Nine governors over the years have commuted their entire death row, including one Republican. In 2024, on his way out of office, President Biden commuted the death sentences of 37 federal prisoners, in part, Stevenson said, to prevent the Trump administration from using executions as theater.

But none of that is why Newsom should do it.

He should do it because we, the voters, are exhausted by the venality of politicians whose every move is controlled by politics and self-dealing. We need to believe that conscience is not a relic of America’s past, and roll reality back to a time when, occasionally, leaders acted because they believed in something, even if it wasn’t popular.

He should do it because our president glorifies violence and death (more on that in a moment) and people need a reminder that the America of hope and dreams, the America that always strives to be better, may be down, but she’s not out.

He should do it simply because he thinks it’s right.

“A lot of people in this country want a leader who is not trying to promote themselves, who’s not trying to advance themselves, is not always scheming for the angles and the corners,” Stevenson told me. “That’s not trying to just do what makes them get the most votes.”

Showing mercy to murderers historically has not been popular with voters. The tale of Willie Horton, the convicted murderer whose subsequent felonies tanked the 1988 presidential ambitions of then-Massachusetts Gov. Michael Dukakis, is still invoked like a Biblical lesson about the sin of soft-on-crime.

Horton’s warning happened during what now seems like the benign and civilized days of the President George H.W. Bush era, though. This moment is different, and all the advice about dodging this dodgy issue is now wrong.

America is increasingly in the death business, to steal a phrase from the late Supreme Court Justice Harry Blackmun — or at least our leaders are. Under the Trump administration, brutality, cruelty, corruption and even killings are being used as misguided and ugly proxies for strength and power. Fear is a weapon, death the point — the state can kill you if you make its leaders mad.

“It’s a handful of people whose view of the social order is very violent. It uses power. It abuses power. They think death is good for demonstrating strength,” Stevenson said.

Think that sounds overblown?

Just ask the family of Renee Good. Or Alex Pretti. Both Americans were killed by masked federal officers only 10 months ago. But so many other deaths have happened since then, they’re just ghosts in our collective psyche — haunting reminders that faceless, nameless agents are now empowered to roam our streets.

Most of us can no longer place the name Nurul Amin Shah Alam, the near-blind Rohingya refugee dumped by federal agents in the freezing cold on a February night. He was found dead five days later, his passing ruled a homicide.

Do you remember Lorenzo Salgado Araujo? Or Johan Sebastián Duran Guerrero? That’s what the business of death does, normalizes killings until they blend and fade in significance.

What about the 120 Iranian children, many of them little girls, who were killed when the U.S. bombed their school?

Then there are the roughly 238 people who have been executed by U.S. bombings of boats in the Caribbean and Pacific, allegedly while transporting drugs, though the killings took place with no arrests, no trials and no real evidence. Four of those killings happened in October, though they barely made news.

And there is the profiteering from death — the talk of resorts on the shores of Gaza, the government money saved by Elon Musk cutting off aid to starving children.

Now, if Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has his way, a year that began with televised footage of the death of Good and Pretti will end with the live-streamed execution of Nidal Hasan, the paralyzed, wheelchair-using former Army psychiatrist who 17 years ago killed 13 and wounded 32 at Fort Hood in Texas. If the grotesque spectacle happens, it will be a throwback to the days of the Roman Colosseum when the business of state-sponsored death was at an apex, combining public violence with propaganda, politics and social control.

Stevenson warns that “we’re in the midst of a narrative struggle, and this struggle is for the soul of America.”

Newsom has the chance to, if not change that narrative, offer an alternative one — an America that rejects killing as the ultimate display of power. An America that seeks justice with dignity and wisdom, not arrogance and gore. An America that feels safe because our leaders act with integrity and honor, not with a slavish, intemperate ego.

Though there is a political risk inherent in striking out in a solitary direction, there can also be reward. As Stevenson told Newsom, that’s the “beauty of struggling for things that are right, struggling for things that are moral, struggling for things that are just — all kinds of people will come along, and when you feel like you just can’t take another step, there’ll be something there. There’ll be somebody there.”

My mercy isn’t for those on our death row, many of whom are guilty of gut-churning crimes. I’m not arguing that they are victims themselves, or even that some may have been unfairly tried, or even innocent, though that may be true. I acknowledge some families of victims may be angry if Newsom commutes sentences, though some will not.

My mercy is reserved for America, and those who are exhausted by the business of death, this business Trump wants us to believe is just American business — necessary and unavoidable.

A commutation of California’s death row sentences would be a rejection of Trump’s manic desire to pull us ever lower; a rejection of our growing cynicism that there is no such thing — Republican or Democrat — as a leader who acts from conscience. An assurance, instead, that it is still possible to heed an internal moral compass that is more powerful than the need for power.

Would voters really reject the leader who offered that?

Would you?

On the set of CBS’ legacy soap opera “The Bold and the Beautiful” at the Sunset Las Palmas Studios in Hollywood, two actors were caught in a fiery exchange.

“Do you want to know where Jack was last night?” actor Skyla Lynne asked with a sly grin. “He was with me.”

From behind a monitor displaying a vertically oriented feed, the director interjected: “Could you pause a bit more in between those lines? We might want to do an episode break there.”

The scene wasn’t for an episode of the famous soap opera. It was part of the 40-episode second season of “Hollywood Starlet,” a new microdrama series from “The Bold and the Beautiful” head writer Bradley Bell and his son Oliver.

“I’ve been doing soap operas my whole life, and it felt like there’s been a buzz about microdramas, and it really felt like a natural extension to the stories that we do,” Bradley Bell said. “[On soap operas] we build two cliffhangers usually on Fridays to keep the viewers over the weekend. Here, you do it every couple of minutes. It’s like speeding up the dance routine, but it’s really right in our lane of soap operas.”

Microdramas are the scrollable, cliffhanger-heavy stories built for phone screens. They are giving audiences a new way into the kind of stories that once belonged to traditional soap operas and telenovelas. The so-called vertical format originated in China a few years ago and has drawn a growing global audience thanks to its short, addictive nature. Hollywood names, including Issa Rae and Kevin Hart, are joining in.

Now, Bell is moving into the space. The 16-time Emmy winner and his son Oliver recently launched a production company called Red Flair Entertainment to capitalize on the format.

“Hollywood Starlet,” their first production, premiered Sept. 3 on aTwist, a new vertical series app founded by industry veterans Jana Winograde, former president of Showtime; Susan Rovner, former president of Warner Bros. Television; and Lloyd Braun, former chairman of WME.

Oliver Bell, founder of Red Flair Entertainment, is producing the micro series, “Hollywood Starlet,” being filmed at Sunset Las Palmas Studios in Los Angeles.

(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)

Bradley Bell says it was Oliver who hatched the idea.

“I saw this unique format and was fascinated by it,” Oliver Bell said. “I noticed some areas that we could quite easily improve on.”

Microdramas first came across Oliver’s social media feed around a year and a half ago when he was still in college. The 24-year-old said he quickly “fell down a rabbit hole” and became so obsessed with the format that he wrote his dissertation at the University of St Andrews in Scotland on soap operas and microdramas.

After he graduated in December, he and his father founded Red Flair Entertainment and started to develop “Hollywood Starlet,” with Oliver serving as an executive producer and his father as a producer.

The series — which costs about $175,000 to $220,000 a season to produce — is being financed by aTwist. Red Flair has a backend deal, allowing it to share in subscription revenue the show generates for the platform.

After filming two seasons of “Hollywood Starlet,” Red Flair plans several more vertical series across many different genres, like horror and romance, the Bells said.

Oliver grew up visiting sets and eavesdropping on writing meetings from under his father’s desk. The family’s storytelling line runs back to his grandparents, William Bell and Lee Phillip Bell, who created “The Young and the Restless” and “The Bold and the Beautiful.” Oliver says he’s carrying on that legacy in a very Gen Z way.

“In a way, microdramas are just the natural evolution of the soap opera,” Oliver Bell said. “You could kind of trace the legacy through that and the modernization of serialized TV.”

His father, who was working on episode 9,911 of “The Bold and the Beautiful” while speaking with The Times, said the short-form stories can reach younger viewers who might be daunted by the soap’s decades of history.

“It’s like cracking open a book, and it’s hard for people to get into it to learn the history,” he said. “So having smaller, bite-sized pieces is appealing to us.”

“The Bold and the Beautiful” has aired continuously for 39 years, but it’s now one of American TV’s last soap operas. Until the 1980s, 10 to 12 soaps typically aired at once, said Elana Levine, a media professor at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee who studies the genre. Today, five remain: four on broadcast TV and one, “Days of Our Lives,” is on streaming only.

“It makes sense to take this storytelling form that has been super popular and enduring in the U.S. and find a way to translate that into the mobile devices that we carry around us all of the time,” Levine said.

While soap operas historically targeted a mostly female audience, microdramas reach a much broader audience, said Michael Berry, director of UCLA’s Center for Chinese Studies, who has studied the rise of vertical series.

“It gives us essentially the main beats that we would get from a soap opera format, but it’s happening in a much more compact and addictive way,” he added.

Cameramen prepare for a scene on the set of the micro series, “Hollywood Starlet,” being filmed at Sunset Las Palmas Studios in Los Angeles.

(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)

Lou Trabbie, the soap’s production designer, had never heard of a microdrama before working on “Hollywood Starlet.”

“It’s all going in a different direction. You just adapt and move forward, and that’s what we see here,” Trabbie, who’s worked in the industry for 38 years, explained. “It’s really great to see how these are done with smaller crews. I feel like this is where the business is going.”

“Hollywood Starlet” shoots on the same Sunset Las Palmas soundstage as “The Bold and the Beautiful,” filming during the soap’s monthly dark week.

The first season, 45 short episodes, was shot in six days at the start of summer with a non-union cast and crew of 45. Less than a week after its release, much of the same crew was back to start working on season two.

Oliver Bell said the series used non-union crew due to “budgetary restrictions.”

At a time when major film and TV shoots are leaving the state, microdramas are one of the few areas of production that are growing locally.

Excluding China, vertical video is expected to generate $150 billion globally in revenue this year, according to consulting firm Owl & Co. Most of that comes from TikTok, YouTube Shorts and Instagram Reels.

Sunset Las Palmas Studios, where “La La Land” and the first two seasons of “I Love Lucy” were filmed, dedicated an entire sound stage in June to standing sets for vertical series. The sets include a courtroom, a bar/restaurant, an apartment, an office and a hospital.

Paxton Fuller, left, executive producer of “Hollywood Starlet,” walks with Sean Griffin, Vice President of Sales and Business Development, for Las Palmas Studios, through a courtroom set on the stage meant specifically for microdramas.

(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)

Still, the Bells don’t think microdramas will replace soap operas. The two formats, they argue, can “coexist.”

“Coming into someone’s living room or bedroom, soap operas were almost like an extension of their family that they can count on for years and decades with the same actors. The same families that have watched since day one,” Bradley Bell said. “It’s a different type of viewer for microdramas.”

Oliver Bell added: “We’re trying to grab the scroller’s attention, not necessarily ‘The Bold and the Beautiful’ viewer … Microdramas are unavoidable through social media. [It’s] conditioning our brains and how we process media.”