film

Heard about that fresh new wave of horror dominating the box office and charming even the snootiest of critics?

“Evil Dead Burn” — less an inferno than a partly scorched reheating — isn’t that. Director Sam Raimi’s original 1981 “The Evil Dead,” filmed in the Tennessee woods by a bunch of hyperactive dreamers, has since morphed into a monolithic franchise that mainly serves to keep the lights on. Some foundational elements remain: wobbly camera sprints through the forest, demons with a smiling love of bodily destruction. But the house feels dormant.

Sébastien Vaniček, a French filmmaker of vigor if not vibrancy, is the fourth director to pick up the series, now on its sixth installment. It’s hard to know from his palette what thrills him, or if he sees colors at all, given the film’s muddy, deadening grayscape. (A softly falling snow, almost mocking of the action to come, is a nice touch.) Vaniček knows where his movie needs to end up — a sloppy showdown in a home with a lot of power tools lying around — but sometimes he lingers, adding transient curiosity to a serviceable story.

A tense family coalesces around the memorial of its eldest son, cut down in the prime of what seems like an argument-leaden life. Mainly, we focus on Alice (Souheila Yacoub), his bruised foreign-born widow, a black sheep among them who doesn’t have any words to offer at the service. Already, they all hate each other, but what they don’t know is that younger failson Joseph (Hunter Doohan), a wannabe writer, has been busy going through his grandfather’s notes concerning the Book of the Dead, unwittingly summoning vicious spirits to a fractious dynamic.

These people shouldn’t be around each other, but whereas a mightier movie like “Hereditary” would simmer that grief into a boiling pot of bad behavior, “Evil Dead Burn” has something more obvious and darkly funny in mind. The spirits (we call them Deadites in this universe) slip into a human host, we see a telltale contraction of the irises, and it’s off to the races.

The gore comes like a tide, shockingly for a mainstream studio wide release. Vaniček is clearly inspired by the extremity that has marked so much horror from France over the last two decades, in notorious exports such as “High Tension” and “Martyrs.” But it’s also show-offy and ill-considered: When a family dog receives a furious fork-stabbing, it’s hard to know who the film is for. Elsewhere, heads are exploded by guns, cleaved and gashed, though not so irretrievably that a possessed couple can’t enjoy a long lip-lock (“You haven’t kissed me like that in years,” a partner says, her mouth bloodied).

As it goes on, “Evil Dead Burn” itself feels possessed by a kind of narrative impatience: Can’t we just get to the good stuff? Raimi was capable of shapelier storytelling than this. These reboots in his name — on which, it should be said, he is a producer — somewhat demean his legacy by reducing “Evil Dead” to a viscera delivery device. I can’t say the audience I saw it with was particularly juiced.

But a loopy grandma (Maude Davey), stricken with dementia, gets her licks in via a brutally deployed fountain pen that is notably not used for writing. There’s a hint in that. This movie is not for those who want anything beyond a steak served blue.

Last month, veteran Hollywood producer Roy Lee got three calls in a single day from executives at three different studios. Each believed they had found the next internet-native short poised to become a Hollywood blockbuster — an online monster named Siren Head — and each was ready to make an offer and wanted Lee’s help to develop a movie.

The frenzy traces back to the enduring global box-office runs of two low-budget horror films, Curry Barker’s “Obsession” and Kane Parsons’ “Backrooms,” which have earned $403 million and $349 million, respectively. Studios have become fixated on hunting down every short film, internet meme and indie video game with the potential to “put something new and fresh on the screen,” Lee said.

“In the past, whenever we were putting together movies with the studios, they would resort to going back to safer bets with filmmakers who’ve made movies before,” Lee said, whose L.A.-based horror production company, Spooky Pictures, secured three Barker films before “Obsession” hit theaters. “But because of the [ongoing] success, bosses are going to their lower-level executives saying, ‘You better find the next person and bring them to us.’”

The race for Hollywood to capture new-age internet intellectual property, or IP, is well underway. And, in some cases, it’s happening on terms decided by the online creators themselves, according to interviews with agents and producers.

A still of leading actor Chiwetel Ejiofor in “Backrooms.”

(A24)

A new kind of scouting

Mining the internet for the next big thing isn’t a new idea. What’s changed is how major studios approach the creators behind it. In the past, studios have plucked influencers from their online niche and slotted them into whatever mainstream production needed a face. Under the precedent set by Barker and Parsons, studios are now looking to acquire a fully developed idea from creators who already have a built-in audience, agents say.

The industry has long been criticized for leaning too hard on sequels, franchises and remakes led by well-seasoned directors. But after “Obsession” and “Backrooms” were released, it became clear what kind of story could still pull audiences into a theater. Both films came from digital-native storytellers in their 20s who arrived with sizable online followings already attached. In the wake of their success, Parsons is reportedly working on a “Backrooms” sequel for A24, and Barker has another horror movie in the works for Universal Film Group.

“Hollywood is realizing that they have to take more chances,” said Jordan Lonner, Barker’s agent at United Talent Agency. “You have to take those leaps to attract a younger audience. They can feel when something is authentic and that they’re being served something by filmmakers that actually understand them, versus when they’re being served by a big corporate giant.”

Creators are calling the shots

As Hollywood looks to the internet for answers, agents and executives say creators may soon have more leverage than ever at the negotiating table. For example, creators probably will retain ownership and control of their IP, said Ty Flynn, a partner and agent at UTA’s Creators division.

“[Creators] can really have the final say in the creative oversight of their project,” Flynn said. “It’s definitely something that is unique to the space, because they’re obviously the masters of their audience. They know better than anyone else how their audience responds. It’s in the best interest of any partner to [have it] play out, versus trying to control it from the start.”

“Obsession” stars Inde Navarrette and Michael Johnston.

(Focus Features)

While creators break into the mainstream, their representatives say traditional companies are growing more comfortable betting on digital stars. UTA‘s roster includes Alix Earle, Jake Shane and Markiplier — the last of whom recently landed his own box-office breakthrough with “Iron Lung.” The YouTuber, whose real name is Mark Fischbach, self-financed the horror film for $3 million, distributed it on his own and earned roughly $50 million in 4,000 theaters worldwide.

Creative Artists Agency is also teaming up with private equity firm TPG to buy creator-led companies.

Kori Adelson, president of North Road Films — one of the financiers behind “Backrooms” — predicts this shift also will change how studios weigh “price point to risk.” If major companies are willing to diversify their budgets, she said, it could open the door for small-, mid- and big-budget projects to reach a wider range of viewers.

“There’s a direct relationship between budget and authenticity,” Adelson said. “The bigger the budget, the more protections that are in place to ensure that it makes money, because the investment is so big, so you are by definition not able to take risks. And the lower the price point is, the more freedom you have to be bold and to take big swings and to be original.”

Even before the release of “Obsession” and “Backrooms,” multiple studios competed for the theatrical rights to the popular online video game “99 Nights in the Forest,” hosted on Roblox. Disney’s 20th Century ultimately won, with the game’s developers signing on as executive producers.

“Studio people were bending over backwards to make all these promises that would never happen in the past,” Lee said.

There are limits to this model, however

Replicating this success at scale won’t be easy, said Paul Dergarabedian, head of marketplace trends for Rentrak. Because major studios operate with far bigger budgets, he said, the low-budget, indie playbook doesn’t simply transfer over.

Buzz Lightyear and Woody in Disney and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5.”

(Disney / Pixar)

“The whole point is that [‘Obsession’ and ‘Backrooms’] were made by independent filmmakers with very modest budgets,” Dergarabedian said. “It makes sense that everyone’s looking for what’s next, but it’s not an easy task. Both of those films came about very organically and authentically.”

Many studios will remain “inherently risk-averse,” said Darrell Miller, an L.A.-based entertainment lawyer — largely because of how much cash flow they need just to operate. He said, “Obsession’s” $403-million worldwide gross is a “big win” for Focus Features, the indie distributor backed by Universal, but it doesn’t compare to what a major studio needs from a tentpole release.

“Major studios have to generate over a billion to pay for the overhead, the operation and the size of their business model,” Miller said. “Blockbusters average between $200 [million] and $400 million [to make] and they’re spending another one to two times for marketing. The major studio game is much bigger.”

Every film, regardless of budget, carries a degree of unpredictability. Plenty of indie productions flop at the box office or never land distribution at all — just as plenty of big-budget releases continue to resonate with mass audiences. “Toy Story 5,” for one, has taken the 31-year-old franchise to new heights. The animated film, made with a budget between $150 million and $200 million, has earned upward of $763 million globally less than a month after its release.

Some creators are saying no

Even as studios chase internet-native IP, some of the most sought-after creators are turning them down. For Luke Pounder and Tristan Tales of L.A.-based TalesVision, traditional Hollywood isn’t the goal. The duo, known for fictional young adult content on YouTube, plans to keep leveling up their material while keeping it native to the internet.

“We never wait on a green light from anyone to tell the stories that we want to tell, and social media has already given us that opportunity,” Tales said.

The pair had been in talks with traditional studios about a few of their ideas, but timeline constraints and the potential loss of creative control steered them away. Even as creators become bigger stakeholders in these deals, for Pounder and Tales, that still isn’t enough.

Later this year, they‘ll launch their first premium series, “Lostlings,” with Lion Forge Entertainment. The eight-episode, half-hour series will premiere on their own YouTube channel.

“YouTube isn’t just like this discovery platform where you pluck the talent or the IP and then throw it into the traditional system. YouTube can be that next phase as well, where you take the talent or the IP and distribute it on there,” Pounder said. “YouTube has to catch up to its creators and their ambitions.”

Meanwhile, the competitive bidding war for the internet urban legend Siren Head closed last week, with Warner Bros. winning the theatrical rights for an undisclosed amount. The film will be directed by Brian Duffield (“No One Will Save You”) and co-written by Zach Cregger (“Weapons”). Trevor Henderson, the artist who created the monster online, will serve as an executive producer.

Lee, who will serve as a producer on the “Siren Head” movie, sees this as just the beginning.

“We’re talking about making films the traditional way using the talent that learns their craft either by doing shorts on YouTube, or doing things in a non-traditional manner.”

My dinner course is served. It is a Campbell’s-inspired soup can, lightly angled so strands of broccoli are peeking out. I lift the can to uncover a slow-braised short rib and mashed potatoes. An American dish to represent an American artist, here Andy Warhol.

The room is overtaken with projections, scenes of bustling New York traffic paired with bachelor-pad-like guitar riffs. Shown on a wall above a dinner table is a selection of Warhol silkscreens. It’s a Friday night in West Hollywood, and I’m surrounded by a mix of out-of-towners and those celebrating an anniversary. And while this is a special occasion, we’re urged to get a little messy with our food — to use our hands, to paint with a salad, to draw on a cookie.

The main course: A tomato soup can? “7 Paintings” is an immersive event that occasionally hides dishes in artist-inspired presentations.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Play is the primary side dish at “7 Paintings,” a tech-infused dinner theater that aims to be a crash course in fine art. That selection of veggies paired with multiple mini cups of colorful dressings? Guests are encouraged to mix and match the vinaigrettes into a mess of hues, a nod to abstractionist Jackson Pollock. And yellowfin tuna with dashes of avocado and taro chips? That’s an edible tribute to Banksy, of course. What does raw fish have to do with stenciled street art? It’s bold, heavily angled and has a short shelf life? Maybe? Perhaps don’t overthink it.

Even the paper is edible.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

“Have you ever eaten a painting before?” says Nadine Beshir, the Dubai-based creator of “7 Paintings.” “We try to get people out of their comfort zones and eating paper. I want to bring out the child in them.”

“7 Paintings,” held at Sunset House L.A. through the end of August, is the latest example of immersive dining to arrive in this city. These experiences often involve guest participation and are accentuated with advanced multimedia technology and sometimes theatrical elements.

Worldwide, there have been standouts. For instance, Eatrenalin at Germany’s Europa-Park, a dining room-meets-ride where participants are whisked around the space on trackless “floating chairs,” has just received a coveted Michelin star. Ibiza’s Sublimotion has similar haute ambitions, pairing 12 diners together in a room that will come alive with otherworldly projections and performers. At times, diners will win don virtual reality headgear.

But tech-driven immersive dining experiences have never quite taken off in Los Angeles as a trend. Last year, the Gallery, where fantastical cityscapes and projections surrounded downtown L.A. diners, stood just a couple months before the concept was abandoned.

“7 Paintings” pairs food with art and music. It’s “fun dining, not fine dining,” says its founder.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Bartender Luca Famulari shakes a cocktail at the immersive dining event.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

“The economics of a restaurant are not the same as the economics of theater and the challenge of combining the two lies in thinking outside the box with respect to pricing and cost structure, such that the customer perceives high value from both the food and the experience,” says the Gallery co-founder Daren Ulmer.

Entrepreneurs keep aiming for that careful balance. “Le Petit Chef and Friends” is currently running at Tangier at downtown’s Hotel Figueroa, an event in which a fully animated film is projected on our plates and tables. Long-running pop-up event Fork N’ Film leans more dinner and movie, pairing dishes directly inspired by what is happening on screen. Upcoming films include “Ratatouille” and “Lilo and Stitch.”

The field comes with challenges. “The costs are very high,” says Joanna Garner, an immersive designer and former creative director with experiential art firm Meow Wolf. Garner has been experimenting herself with communal, immersive dinner events, and her next, the flirtatious “Please Open Your Mouth,” is set for July 11. (No tech there, as Garner is after a more sensual, adult-focused gathering.) Tickets for her event are $150 and a spot in the “7 Paintings” dining room runs $175, priced on par with a number of city’s most acclaimed restaurants.

There is also the reality that all public dining is in some fashion immersive, usually requiring varying combinations of engagement, communication and presentation. And then, are all these added elements distracting?

An animated Mona Lisa sits on the wall as guests enjoy their meals. Throughout the dinner, the painting provides factoids on various artists.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Throughout “7 Paintings,” for instance, an animated Mona Lisa, situated on the wall next to the main dinner table, will provide brief biographical details of each artist represented.

“Being able to nail the food, and nail the story, those are two very difficult threads to weave,” Garner says. “I do think, ultimately, people come to a dinner table to talk to the people at the table and to have intimate experiences. To have an experience where you’re constantly being taken away from the food, I’m not so sure if that’s what people are looking for.”

Food is framed as a star of “7 Paintings” but tasting it is just one component. At one point, we must uncover a cheese course in a tiny treasure chest, the code for the lock hidden in the projections (don’t stress, it’s not a hard puzzle). Beshir highlights the Pollock-inspired salad course, which is accentuated with a jazz soundtrack, as the thesis of the evening.

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1. A guest uses a silicon brush to apply sauces onto an entree, a nod to abstractionist Jackson Pollock. 2. Projections fill up the dining table during meals.

“This course is really about getting people to free their minds from preconceived ideas,” Beshir says. “Like, you have to eat with a fork and knife, or the salad comes and then the dressing. No, the dressing comes and then the salad, and it’s trying with big brushes to paint the way he did. A lot of people do not understand Abstract Expressionism, and they think it’s people just splashing colors around. But when you understand the link between the rhythm of the music and painting, you live it. We give you time to paint with your salad dressing.”

In L.A., Beshir has partnered with nightlife impresario Kim Kelly, who is plotting a “Sleep No More”-inspired walk-around theatrical show for the Sunset House venue later this year. “7 Paintings,” however, is fully seated, and purposefully a little silly. Beshir and Kelly have been evolving it during its L.A. run, recently adding a stronger painting component by giving guests their own canvas to work on throughout the evening. Each night crowns a winner.

“Everyone comes over to look at their art,” Kelly says. “It just kind of changed the whole thing, to be honest. People are now being creative throughout the entire evening. Instead of just watching and occasionally painting, you’re now painting the whole time.”

As for what, perhaps, soba noodles with edamame and mushrooms have to do with Pablo Picasso, or why Salvador Dali gets an unexpected dessert course of a white chocolate potato souffle, Beshir clarifies the goal of the evening. While the animated Mona Lisa will provide backstories on each painter, this isn’t an educational night. “It’s fun dining, not fine dining,” Beshir says.

And by the end of my night, strangers were socializing, showing off their painted cookie creations, sharing Banksy tidbits and asking for recommendations on various vinaigrette combinations. Ultimately, it’s an evening of discovery, packed with surprises like finding an entire course hidden under a canvas.

Darryl Mayes of Charlotte, N.C., left, and Taylor Smith of North Hollywood, right, uncover their course.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

“We try not to have too much sophistication, like fried ants or something. I’m personally very adventurous in how I eat, but if I want to have this in 100 cities around the world, I cannot be too meticulous.”

And Beshir has big goals.

“I want this be your movie and dinner thing,” Beshir says. “I want people to be waiting for our next show, and to be able to afford to come every couple months.”

And to come home not with leftovers, but perhaps a painting of their own.

Can you tell the story of America in 10 movies? Maybe so — at least a version of it — if you stick to moments of serious national friction and those rare instances when a filmmaker meets the mood with a true vision. If you want tearjerkers about red, white and blue triumph, this is not your list (although the Space Race drama “The Right Stuff” always does the trick). Meanwhile, our current state of disunity and division will find its own expressions in time; start with “Civil War,” though it’s a bit too soon. Instead, we thought about historical pivot points and built a list of classics, along with a few alternatives for each title.

The Great Depression

Henry Fonda, left, in the 1940 film “The Grapes of Wrath,” directed by John Ford.

(20th Century-Fox)

‘The Grapes of Wrath’ (1940)

America is a broken place in John Ford’s poetically charged adaptation of the Steinbeck novel: a downbeat landscape of Oklahoma dust storms, long shadows and the teetering sight of a car turned into a truck transporting a family westward. This will always be one of those essential movies about a particular national dream — not just a myth — of emerging from economic catastrophe and being reborn in the promised land of California. Ford, with the instincts of a showman, foregrounded hope on the horizon via inspired performances by Henry Fonda and Jane Darwell’s pragmatic Ma Joad getting the final word (“We keep a’coming…”). But there is still so much darkness in “The Grapes of Wrath,” especially in its scenes of John Qualen’s Muley Graves, crumpled on the ground, suddenly a squatter on his own piece of land. He’s no match for the bulldozers. As long as the idea remains that property gets its purpose from those tending it, working it, nourishing it and dying on it, the film will never become a relic. Its binding values of labor and community remain relevant, even if today’s Hollywood rarely speaks to them. — Joshua Rothkopf

See also: “Modern Times,” “Sullivan’s Travels,” “Bonnie and Clyde”

Postwar optimism

Michael Hall, from left, Teresa Wright, Myrna Loy and Fredric March in the 1946 movie “The Best Years of Our Lives.”

(Samuel Goldwyn Productions)

‘The Best Years of Our Lives’ (1946)

World War II ended with ticker-tape parades and soaring expectations. William Wyler’s sweeping drama arrived just as America was beginning to reckon with what coming home actually meant. Harold Russell, a real-life veteran who lost both hands during the war, plays a sailor struggling to imagine a future with the woman he loves. Dana Andrews is a decorated bombardier who returns to the same soda fountain job he held before the war, discovering that military heroism doesn’t necessarily translate into peacetime opportunity. The movie became one of the biggest hits of 1946 because it understood a challenge facing millions of Americans: The war had given the country a common purpose but peace meant each person had to find their own. Yet for all its honesty about that dislocation, the film remains remarkably hopeful. Its faith that people can rebuild their lives and start over feels almost radical today. Seen from the distance of eight decades, it feels like a dispatch from a country that had just survived a catastrophe and still believed its best days lay ahead. — Josh Rottenberg

See also: “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Miracle on 34th Street,” “Giant”

Capitalism, unchecked

Daniel Day-Lewis in the 2007 movie “There Will Be Blood,” directed by Paul Thomas Anderson.

(Paramount Vantage)

‘There Will Be Blood’ (2007)

“I drink your milkshake — I drink it up!” Oil man Daniel Plainview’s deranged metaphor, allegedly taken from congressional transcripts from the 1920s Teapot Dome scandal in which Interior Secretary Albert Fall defended the practice of directional oil drilling, a.k.a. drainage, became a catchphrase when “There Will Be Blood” arrived in 2007. Elon Musk probably has a T-shirt in the back of a drawer emblazoned with the line. It epitomizes the American ethos of extracting resources that belong to someone else and then brutally bragging about the beatdown. Paul Thomas Anderson’s movie is part history lesson, part horror film, which, when it comes to chronicling the American experience, feels like the perfect blend. The oil man’s exploits take place more than a century ago, but seem particularly relevant now with Musk newly minted as the world’s first trillionaire and income inequality rapidly widening. Plainview confesses, “I have a competition in me. I want no one else to succeed.” It neatly sums up the endgame in which we find ourselves — and his vanquishing of the preacher Eli speaks to what we worship in the United States. He’s finished and sometimes it feels like we are too. — Glenn Whipp

See also: “The Wolf of Wall Street,” “WALL-E,” “Sorry to Bother You”

Post-Vietnam/Watergate cynicism

‘Nashville’ (1975)

Ronee Blakley in the 1975 movie “Nashville,” directed by Robert Altman.

(Paramount Pictures)

Could one movie capture the breadth of emotions around this year’s 250th anniversary celebrations as well as Robert Altman did the bicentennial? As the country was still reeling from the assassinations and discord of the 1960s, the despair of Vietnam and the scandals of Nixon and Watergate, there was a soul-baring uncertainty to what it even meant to be an American. With 24 main characters interwoven around the town of Nashville, home of country music and intersecting political undercurrents, the film tries to make sense of the chaos. While the conspiracy thrillers of the 1970s are seen as the most direct response to the moral malaise of the moment, Altman finds an unexpected way to gild his innate skepticism with a light filigree of hope, a complex quilt of characters capturing the contradictions inherent in the American identity. And yet as cynical and beaten-down as the film’s viewpoint can often be, there is still a spark of decency and perseverance. That is the America that Altman celebrates, even as he lets no one off the hook. Few films capture the hum of life in all its maddening beauty quite like this one. — Mark Olsen

See also: “Blow Out,” “The Conversation,” “The Parallax View”

‘Network’ (1976)

Robert Duvall, Faye Dunaway and William Holden in the 1976 movie “Network,” directed by Sidney Lumet.

(MGM Studios / Getty Images)

Much has been made over the years about how prescient this film was, as if screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky and director Sidney Lumet saw the constrictive dangers of corporate consolidation in the distance and came back to warn us. But if these rumbling premonitions have remained true across multiple eras of an ever-evolving media landscape, have we really learned anything? Perhaps we really do live in a “demented slaughterhouse of a world,” as the unhinged newsman Howard Beale says in one of his apocalyptic broadcasts, and have all along. Maybe what “Network” nails most of all is apathy: that even the most righteously committed can have their heads turned from their true goals and then struggle to get back on track. What may be most shocking rewatching the film today is the suspicion that some current media figures see the maneuverings of villainous executives played by Robert Duvall and Faye Dunaway and somehow think that they were the heroes of the story all along. Not even Lumet or Chayefsky would have predicted that. — Mark Olsen

See also: “Broadcast News,” “The Insider,” “Nightcrawler”

Gentrification and racial tensions

Spike Lee, left, and Danny Aiello in the 1989 movie “Do the Right Thing.”

(Universal Pictures)

‘Do the Right Thing’ (1989)

Spike Lee’s masterpiece was met with hand-wringing when it arrived in theaters 37 summers ago, with white critics fretting how “urban audiences” would react to its shocking ending of brutality and angry protest. “If some audiences go wild, [Lee] is partly responsible,” critic David Denby wrote in New York Magazine. Nobody rioted. “Do the Right Thing” made some people uncomfortable because it told truths from a Black perspective that they did not want to accept. That unwillingness to have hard conversations and learn from them remains evident today as we prepare to celebrate our nation’s 250th birthday without an honest reckoning of the anguish that lies beneath the storybook version of America’s founding. The paradox is that Lee’s movie is itself that conversation, its characters engaging in a series of arguments, evenhanded and empathetic, about how race affects the lives we lead in America. Until our country engages in that dialogue, nothing will change. For a moment, the Black Lives Matter movement signaled a willingness to grapple with the past. But the pendulum swung and we’re back to days of “Driving Miss Daisy” denial. But “Do the Right Thing” remains with us, its urgency and relevance undiminished, waiting for an America open to listen and live up to its idealized aspirations. — Glenn Whipp

See also: “Get Out,” “12 Years a Slave,” “Fruitvale Station”

The rise of the yuppies

Roddy Piper, left, and Keith David in the 1988 movie “They Live,” directed by John Carpenter.

(Universal Pictures)

‘They Live’ (1988)

“I believe in America,” the guy says, but we’re not in the private office of some all-powerful Corleone. Rather, this is a working man in a plaid shirt and denim. As the sun sets on his sad L.A. tent city (inspired by the real-life Justiceville), he only wants what everyone else wants: a hard day’s work for fair pay and the chance to get ahead. “It’ll come,” he says, serenely. He doesn’t know he’s in a John Carpenter movie — Roddy Piper was never put to better on-screen use — and that those keeping him down are, in fact, aliens hypnotizing us into an unseeing stupor as they carve up the world’s resources. Released at the tail end of Reaganomics, Carpenter’s most politically forward thriller now feels like a decoder ring for ’80s-era greed, detachment, complacency and ruthlessness. Carpenter meant us to to see his bug-eyed space invaders as yuppies. He also intended us to question whether we were selling each other out, just to join the “human power elite” for a tiny piece of pie. “They Live” looms just on the other side of appreciated. Many genre films say what our more prestigious dramas can’t about the creeping forces that are changing America; this one still feels like it’s getting away with murder. — Joshua Rothkopf

See also: “American Psycho,” “Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” “After Hours”

’80s women in the workplace

Harrison Ford, left, Melanie Griffith and Sigourney Weaver in the 1988 movie “Working Girl.”

(20th Century Fox)

‘Working Girl’ (1988)

Mike Nichols’ zeitgeisty hit opens on a shot of the Statue of Liberty hoisting her torch like a paycheck. Down by her green toes, Melanie Griffith’s Staten Island secretary Tess McGill ferries to Manhattan to type memos for important men. Tess has a job, not a career. But 1988 was the first year that female undergraduates outnumbered men on college campuses. Even without a degree, Tess is ambitious to climb the corporate ladder — once she swaps out her practical white sneakers for a pair of pumps. The script by Kevin Wade throws up hurdles of sexism and class snobbery, never sugarcoating how Tess’ male co-workers treat her like a blow-up doll. (Critics dismissed Griffith, too, until this performance earned her an Oscar nomination.) Yet note how her Ivy League-educated boss Katharine (Sigourney Weaver) isn’t immune to harassment either; she’s just mastered how to parry her colleagues’ advances. Fantastic as it is, “Working Girl’s” core flaw is that Tess can’t snag her seat at the conference table until she yanks Katharine out of it. Weaver said that when she showed the script to real-life working girls on Wall Street, they asked, “This awful secretary steals your man, wears your clothes, takes your office — who’s going to sympathize with her?” Millions did and still do. — Amy Nicholson

See also: “9 to 5,” “Baby Boom,” “Silkwood”

Digital alienation

Justin Timberlake, left, and Jesse Eisenberg in the 2010 movie “The Social Network,” directed by David Fincher.

(Merrick Morton / Columbia TriStar )

‘The Social Network’ (2010)

In 2010, Apple introduced the iPad, Instagram launched its app and Silicon Valley still looked to many tech-besotted Americans like a force for progress. At a moment when technology companies were promising to bring people closer together, David Fincher’s acerbic drama about the founding of Facebook had a darker theory about why people wanted to connect in the first place. Aaron Sorkin’s screenplay traces Facebook’s creation back to a very old human desire: getting noticed by the people who matter. Instead of celebrating innovation, the movie unfolds through lawsuits and broken friendships. At Harvard, Jesse Eisenberg’s Mark Zuckerberg fixates on the exclusive final clubs that won’t quite accept him. It’s a surprisingly sour approach for a Facebook origin story. Years before social media became a political battleground, Fincher was focused on something more basic — the fear that everyone else had been invited to a party you couldn’t get into. The movie ends with Zuckerberg alone at a computer, refreshing the Facebook page of the woman who dumped him and waiting for her to accept his friend request. More than 15 years later, it’s still hard to think of a better image for the loneliness and insecurity lurking beneath our connected lives. — Josh Rottenberg

See also: “Her,” “Eighth Grade,” “Ingrid Goes West”

Post-9/11 anxieties

A scene from the 2004 movie “Team America: World Police,” directed by Trey Parker.

(Melinda Sue Gordon / Paramount Pictures)

‘Team America: World Police’ (2004)

To add drama to the ennui over the 2000 U.S. presidential campaign, “South Park” creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone pledged to immediately produce a silly sitcom about the winner. “That’s My Bush!” ran for eight episodes in the spring of 2001, with plans to spin off into a feature called “George W. Bush and the Secret of the Glass Tiger.” But the Sept. 11 attacks changed everything, including the work of satirists. Parker and Stone pivoted to “Team America: World Police,” a bomb-throwing comedy about our country’s napalm-strength combination of naiveté and swagger. To prevent an attack hailed as “9/11 times a thousand,” a squadron of puppet commandos blows up the planet themselves. The dark joke is these marionettes aren’t behaving much differently than the action heroes who have shaped the national id — it’s a through-the-looking-glass lens into our Hollywoodized view of the globe, down to the Parisian streets made of cobblestone croissants. At once straight-faced, sacrilegious and scatological, “Team America” needed nine tries to eke past the MPAA. Yet in divided times, it was a unifier. The political spectrum from Kim Jong Il to Alec Baldwin got equally savaged and the film’s eff-yeah patriotic theme song (“Rock and roll! The internet! Slavery!”) could even be heard blaring from real-life tanks in Fallujah. — Amy Nicholson

See also: “Eddington,” “Idiocracy,” “Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay”

Cut to a seedy alley behind a Chinese restaurant in Rome: A dozen mobsters menace a slight young man who suddenly pulls out a pair of nunchucks. He swings the traditional stick-and-chain weapons and makes quick work of his enemies, who fall one by one, groaning in pain.

The comedic, legendary action scene is from the 1972 film “The Way of the Dragon,” written, directed and starring Bruce Lee. The martial arts star was a trailblazer, allowing Asian Americans to see themselves represented in a strong, positive light on-screen.

And now he has secured a place in California history, becoming the first Chinese American in state history to have a day designated in his honor.

Lee was born in 1940 in San Francisco. His mother was of European descent and his father was a Cantonese opera star who was on tour in the city, affording his son birthright citizenship.

Lee grew up in Hong Kong, where he followed his father’s path as a performer, acting in more than a dozen films as a child and studying the close-quarters southern Chinese martial art Wing Chun.

On May 17, 1959, an 18-year-old Lee returned to San Francisco and eventually made his way to Hollywood. He went on to influence an industry that was at the time bereft of Asian American talent, and helped to popularize the genre of martial arts films and ignite Western interest in Hong Kong action cinema.

In recognition of his contributions, state Assemblymember Matt Haney (D-San Francisco) introduced a bill designating May 17 as “Bruce Lee Day” in California. The bill, signed into law Tuesday by Gov. Gavin Newsom, encourages schools and communities to honor Lee’s life and cultural impact.

Haney has described Lee as a “symbol of pride, resilience and possibility for generations who rarely saw themselves reflected with strength and dignity.”

Lee, who saw himself not only as an actor but also as a poet and philosopher, encountered repeated barriers. Up for the main role in the 1970s television series “Kung Fu,” for example, he was rejected in favor of white actor David Carradine.

In 2020, filmmaker Bao Nguyen sought to show how Lee dispelled anti-Asian sentiment and long-held stereotypes of emasculated Asian men in his ESPN documentary “Be Water.”

“The Asian male was the face of the enemy to many Americans,” Nguyen told The Times in 2020. “It was this vicious cycle of society reflecting media and culture, and media and culture reflecting society. There had to be some kind of intervention there and Bruce, in a way, was that intervention. He was the hero that we hadn’t seen before.”

Lee learned much about the systemic oppression that Black Americans faced from his first student, Jesse Glover, who had been a victim of police brutality.

And scholars have pointed out that, although his films had far-from-perfect politics, they touched on themes of fighting oppression. The 1971 movie “The Big Boss” showed Lee battling alongside laborers. “Fist of Fury” saw him opposing Japanese colonialism and discrimination.

Lee died young in 1973, at age 32 — before he was able to witness the full extent of his stardom. He died just one month before the release of “Enter the Dragon,” which was a box-office sensation and is considered a masterpiece of martial arts filmmaking.

It’s the 250th birthday of the United States of America and how better to celebrate than with a big-screen hagiography of America’s first president, George Washington? “Young Washington” arrives in theaters just in time for the Fourth of July with a chiseled, hot young actor in the lead role and the sheen of a prestige HBO drama, though the result isn’t really big-screen spectacle or appointment television. It feels more like something to be watched on the AV rig in a middle school social studies class. At least there won’t be a quiz at the end.

But there could be, because the plot of “Young Washington” plays out with all the thrill of a textbook chapter. It takes place mostly around 1753-55, at the advent of the French and Indian War. We open in medias res when the 23-year-old Col. Washington (William Franklyn-Miller) lurches from a dysentery-riddled nap directly into battle in the Pennsylvania woods, his battalion on the back foot, surrounded by gore and gunpowder. Another officer describes how dire the situation is while George ponders saving his men and asks, “What could be worth the risk?” Washington steels his gaze and we cut to black. You can almost hear the eagles scream, guitars riff and engines rev.

“Young Washington” is produced and distributed by Angel Studios, the faith-based movie studio that churns out films based on true stories that either feature freak accidents, strange illnesses or, more recently, unique stories from the past in which faith in God is a factor. Apparently, our nation’s founding also falls under this umbrella.

The film is directed by Jon Erwin, one of the in-house Angel Studios mainstays, who also helmed “Jesus Revolution,” “I Still Believe” and “I Can Only Imagine.” Erwin gives the whole project a kind of gritty, visceral approach — very “Game of Thrones” in red coats. It’s violent, muddy, the contrast is high and too many drone shots soar over the forest treetops.

Though it opens with a bang, this 1755 battle framing device gives way to the George origin story, starting with his father’s death 12 years earlier, when the 11-year-old George is bereft that he’ll have to sacrifice his education in order to become a tenant farmer and provide for his family including his mother, Mary (Mary-Louise Parker, doing a bizarre accent).

His older half-brother Lawrence (John Foss) takes him under his wing and teaches him, and the young George grows into a smart, bright, ambitious young man, whose dreams of becoming a British officer are dashed because he doesn’t have formal education, a fortuitous marriage or his own land. But he’s bootstrapped himself into intelligence and with savvy networking and know-how, he becomes indispensable to the British, volunteering as a major to survey land and negotiate treaties with the Native tribes and French army. It’s all a bunch of politicking and petty disputes until it escalates into all-out war thanks to an ill-advised ambush.

Sir Ben Kingsley, Kelsey Grammar (who starred in “Jesus Revolution”) and Andy Serkis play the British officers who begrudgingly, at times, believe in George and his capabilities, though a lot of the film is about a young man getting rebuffed by snobbish British officers.

He’s the kind of character who always makes the noble choice, does and says what’s right, and sees everyone as equals (including enslaved African men and Native American allies). He inspires his brother and others that the world can change and takes inspiration from his mother, who encourages him to continue his path and do it as God’s servant.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t make for a character that’s in any way complex or interesting at all. Franklyn-Miller is certainly pretty, serving as a fine face for this story, but the screenplay (by Erwin, Diederik Hoogstraten and Tom Provost) flattens his character into a basic cookie-cutter hero. Audiences, including the middle school social studies students, deserve better and more nuanced stories about this country and the values it was built upon.

“Young Washington” is propaganda in the form of a history lesson wrapped in a summer blockbuster. If only it were even slightly entertaining — maybe they’ll tackle that in the inevitable sequel.

Early in “Romería,” the film’s main character, Marina, is asked by some children if she’s ever seen the Santa Compaña, a collection of ghosts who, in Spanish legend, supposedly wander in a pack across the landscape. Humoring the kids, Marina says she hasn’t. That’s good, one of the girls responds. “They’re spirits that can’t die.”

As it happens, Marina is actually on a journey of sorts to connect with the dead — and so is Spanish writer-director Carla Simón, whose third feature is an autobiographical tale about her own quest to make peace with her late parents. Slender but flecked with magical touches, “Romería” is so gentle it never quite qualifies as haunting. Nonetheless, Simón stirs up the ineffable sadness that comes with wanting answers to the mysteries of your family — and then, like it or not, receiving them.

Newcomer Llúcia Garcia plays Marina, an 18-year-old aspiring filmmaker. It’s July 2004, and she’s traveled to the picturesque port city of Vigo to obtain government paperwork that will make her eligible for a university scholarship. She never knew her father Alfonso, who died in 1987. For some reason, there are no records indicating that she was his daughter. Hence the trip to Vigo to see her paternal grandparents for the first time so she can authenticate her ancestry.

Simón, whose previous features “Summer 1993” and “Alcarràs” also grappled with family matters, follows along with Marina on the way to this anxious meeting. Marina’s mother died only a few years after Alfonso, making Marina an orphan. But the mom’s parting gift, a diary, provides opaque glimpses into her life with Alfonso in the mid-1980s. Before Marina arrives at her grandparents’ home, though, she must run a gauntlet of uncles, aunts and cousins, their reactions to her existence varying from warm to wary. Repeatedly, Marina is told she looks just like her mom, but the comment occasionally contains a trace of bitterness. Many of these new faces view her as an unwelcome reminder of a past they’d prefer to forget. When they see Marina, it’s like they’re looking at a ghost.

The strongest component of Garcia’s doe-like performance is the way it captures someone in the midst of shedding her adolescence, gingerly trying on adulthood. Over the course of a few days, this bashful teen, always armed with her camcorder and far less free-spirited than her cousins, will be beset by her father’s feuding family. Silently observing the passive-aggressive maelstrom, Marina will receive an intense immersion in what her life might have been like if he’d lived.

But she quickly realizes that their memories of the man are far from perfect. No one can decide exactly where Alfonso lived in Vigo. And, more troublingly, Marina’s belief that he died in 1987 is contradicted by relatives, who insist that it was five years later. If Marina has that information wrong, what else does she not know?

“Romería” is hardly the first film in which an impressionable soul goes on the hunt for the parents she never had. Likewise, viewers will not be startled when Marina eventually discovers painful secrets about her mom and dad that cause her to reconsider those phantom figures.

Simón, who undertook a similar odyssey at the same age, never allows this delicate story to succumb to self-indulgence or an inflated sense of its own importance. Instead, her film is suffused with a rich, casual immediacy. Simón and her star bracingly recall the electricity of youth as Marina prepares for life as an artist. The movie, in part, is about how she finds her voice.

Simón’s films favor naturalism and “Romería” leaves ample room for Spain’s seaside beauty and glorious sunshine. The calming locales both complement and contradict the plot’s revelations, which are hardly bombshells but do speak to how well-to-do families labor to shove inconvenient skeletons into the closet. If anything, Marina will be more shocked by her grandparents (José Ángel Egido and Marina Troncoso), whose fiercely icy demeanor suggests this teenager should consider herself lucky not to have grown up around them.

Because “Romería” is a coming-of-age story, Marina will be tempted by cute boys; she’ll also begin to display a rebellious streak. As the picture rolls along, Garcia shows a more assertive side, relishing her character’s emergence from her shell. But this modest saga saves its biggest surprise for its final reels, when the narrative folds in on itself beguilingly, allowing Marina to relate to her mom and dad in ways she never had before. Maybe we can never truly know our parents, but if we’re lucky, we can gain the maturity to one day see them in ourselves.

Dine-in movie theater chain Alamo Drafthouse Cinema is launching a new initiative to show unreleased independent films that had successful festival runs, a move that comes as specialty films have struggled to gain distribution.

The Alamo Exclusives program, announced Wednesday, will give limited theatrical runs to films that showed at festivals including Sundance, the Toronto International Film Festival, Tribeca Festival and South by Southwest festival, as well as Alamo’s own Fantastic Fest.

The idea is to help showcase films that received critical acclaim, but did not secure distribution or acquisition deals. The chain will not acquire these films, but instead will enter into agreements with filmmakers to exhibit their films on Alamo Drafthouse screens. By showing these films to audiences on the big screen, these films could get the momentum they need for further opportunities.

The program’s first film will be the documentary “Butthole Surfers: The Hole Truth and Nothing Butt,” which debuted last year at South by Southwest and chronicles the history of the punk rock band.

The film will be shown in Alamo Drafthouse theaters for a limited time later this summer.

The Austin-based chain, which is owned by Sony Pictures, has a long history of curating indie films for its audiences, giving Alamo Drafthouse confidence that its viewers want to see these kinds of movies, company chief executive Michael Kustermann said in a statement.

“Time and again, they’ve shown they’ll come out to support bold, original films when given the opportunity,” he said. The new Alamo Exclusives “gives us another way to champion filmmaker-driven films that deserve to be discovered and connect them with the wider Alamo Drafthouse audience.”

The initiative comes at a difficult time for indie films. Since the pandemic upended the movie business, traditional studios and distributors have had less appetite for risk, including betting on smaller indie films out of festivals.

And as the 2023 dual writers’ and actors’ strikes thinned out theatrical lineups, that aversion to uncertainty became a push for reliable and profitable hits.

“Too many incredible films premiere at festivals and then never receive the theatrical life they deserve,” Lisa Dreyer, director of Fantastic Fest and film innovation at Alamo, said in a statement. “We are actively searching for films across all genres, from horror to comedy, to everything in-between, to champion in this new, exciting way.”

The BBC’s The Other Bennet Sister has been a huge hit with viewers and fans are now looking for similar shows and films to watch.

Period drama lovers will not be able to resist a charming Jane Austen adaptation hailed ‘masterful’ by fans.

Fans of The Other Bennet Sister, which is set to receive a three-part Christmas special, are being urged to seek out an Austen-inspired film widely celebrated as “a classic”.

Drawn from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, the opening series of the BBC’s The Other Bennet Sister pulled in 7.3 million UK viewers during its first four weeks on air.

Since its triumphant run, devotees of period drama have been desperately seeking out comparable shows and films to plug the gap while the Christmas special gears up to enter production.

A 2007 film starring Felicity Jones and JJ Feild has emerged as a firm recommendation, serving as an adaptation of Jane Austen’s 1817 novel of the same name.

Northanger Abbey is the title in question, following a young Catherine Morland (Jones), who travels with family friends to Bath and discovers she has captured the hearts of both Henry Tilney (Feild) and John Thorpe (William Beck).

When she receives an invitation to stay at Northanger Abbey, Catherine’s fanciful imagination runs wild as she muddles reality with the Gothic romance found within the pages of her beloved novels.

Viewers have flocked to IMDb to voice their opinions on the film, with one declaring: “Classic!” Another hailed it a “must-watch”, adding: “The 2007 adaptation of Northanger Abbey is a delightful and faithful rendition of Jane Austen’s novel.

“From the charming performances to the captivating storyline, the film brings Austen’s wit and satire to life. Felicity Jones shines as Catherine Morland, perfectly capturing her innocence and imagination, while JJ Feild makes a dashing and charismatic Henry Tilney.

“The adaptation stays true to the novel’s themes, blending romance, humour, and gothic intrigue seamlessly.”

One final enthusiast described it as “masterful”, elaborating: “This is a really lovely TV/film version of this book, and of course… the script is by master adapter Andrew Davies. He is just magnificent. ENJOY this masterful adaptation!”.

A Reddit user put forward the film, which is available to purchase on Prime Video for just £1.89, as a comparable watch to The Other Bennet Sister, commenting: “Surprised Jane Austen adaptations have barely been recommended, unless those are too obvious.

“The Other Bennet Sister is not only a spin-off of Pride and Prejudice with many familiar characters from that story, but in many ways it takes inspiration from other existing Austen novels, which is very Austen of the author, because her stories frequently recycled/reworked the same characters/plot-lines.”

One devotee took to Reddit to express their desire for a fresh Northanger Abbey adaptation off the back of The Other Bennet Sister’s triumph, writing: “@BBC thank you for adapting this rather than another round of endless adaptations of Austen’s books that already have so many amazing adaptations!

“@Netflix take notes! Fans don’t want you to ruin Austen’s work with crummy adaptations that don’t do the original ones justice.

“Let’s adapt other beautiful stories instead! Honestly, I would be fine with another Northanger Abbey adaptation or maybe a Mansfield Park adaptation if it’s absolutely needed.”

Northanger Abbey is available to buy on Prime Video for £1.89

In the last decade or so, Angelina Jolie has been on screen less frequently. So when she is — and not in forgettable tentpoles like “Eternals” — it’s worth paying attention. There seems to be a thoughtful intentionality to the roles she now chooses, almost as if this astoundingly famous woman wants to tell us something vital about herself, offering clues into her understandably guarded personal life.

Take 2015’s “By the Sea,” which she wrote and directed. Coincidentally or not, that pained study of marital dissolution, co-starring Jolie’s then-husband Brad Pitt, intersected with the couple’s real-life breakup — not to mention Jolie’s grief over the death of her mother, Marcheline Bertrand. Two years ago, Jolie portrayed a version of the elusive, emotionally closed-off opera singer Maria Callas in “Maria.” The conception of the role, marked by a dim view of stardom’s suffocating alienation, was something Jolie clearly understood. Moviegoers should be careful not to read too much autobiography into an actor’s creative choices, but Jolie makes such speculation tantalizing, adding additional layers of drama to her films.

The intermittently affecting “Couture” feels similarly close to her heart, depicting a filmmaker whose life is interrupted by a cancer diagnosis — a reality Jolie knows all too well. In 2013, she underwent a preventive double mastectomy over concerns of her likelihood to develop breast or ovarian cancer. (Bertrand died of cancer in 2007.) Knowledge of Jolie’s circumstance will inform a viewer’s reaction to her wounded, resilient performance, but our inherent sympathies can only take French writer-director Alice Winocour’s ensemble piece so far.

Jolie plays Maxine, an American indie director hired to create a flashy opening film for Paris Fashion Week. Newly arrived in the City of Light, she has only a few days to put together the short, assisted by her trusted cinematographer Anton (Louis Garrel). As we deduce from the phone calls Maxine makes back home, she’s also going through an acrimonious divorce and has trouble connecting with her blasé teenage daughter. At least this Paris paycheck gig will bolster her finances — and get her ready for the feature film she’s been wanting to make for years.

Just then, though, Maxine’s future gets a rewrite. A French doctor (Vincent London) tells her she has breast cancer and needs a double mastectomy immediately. Maybe she can finish the Fashion Week film, but her passion project must wait. An artist and mother who has spent her adulthood in constant motion will have to learn what it means to stop everything and be still.

The film’s title would appear to be a reference to the story’s setting, but in French, “coutures” can also mean “stitches,” and indeed Winocour sews together three thematically linked story strands. As Maxine wrestles with her cancer diagnosis, an inexperienced South Sudanese model named Ada (Anyier Anei) works Fashion Week so she can send money home to her family. (Ada has no interest in modeling, hoping instead to become a pharmacist.) Meanwhile a makeup artist, Angèle (Ella Rumpf), longs to be an author, although she cannot get anyone interested in her writing. Each one becomes a part of the fabric of Fashion Week, but their disparate problems are a far cry from the glitzy event’s self-importance.

Winocour has often made films about women balancing their public-facing life with their private selves In 2019’s “Proxima,” Eva Green played an astronaut missing her young daughter. In 2022’s “Paris Memories,” Virginie Efira starred as an interpreter recovering from the shock of surviving a terrorist attack. Winocour shows us the intimate, vulnerable spaces within her characters that those on the outside don’t have access to.

“Couture’s” three principals rarely interact with one another, but those meaningful exchanges argue that, amid the mad clatter of the everyday, a brief, unguarded moment with a stranger can be supremely restorative. Unfortunately, the juggling of storylines ends up being more schematic than insightful. Angèle’s narrative never catches fire and while Anei is striking as Ada, that section of the film feels slightly patronizing, reducing this immigrant tale to yet another strained salute to perseverance.

This leaves Jolie as the movie’s magnetic center, with Maxine drifting through despair as she ponders what to do. Her doctor insists that the surgery cannot wait, but putting her ambitions on hold means losing a part of herself — a different kind of death sentence than the one she’s now facing.

The character is underwritten but Jolie picks up much of the slack through her silently shattered expression. As she’s gotten older, the Oscar winner has become more comfortable doing less in her performances, allowing for a fragile serenity that is belied by the anguish and anxiety roiling underneath. It’s not just our recognition of the real-life parallels that make Jolie so touching in “Couture” — it’s that ineffable star power she’s possessed for so long. In a story about a potential tragedy, what’s saddest is that Winocour’s film cannot match its lead’s effortless command.

For a long time, the lifestyles and foibles of the modest bourgeoisie were a mainstay of art-house cinema, with urbane, upscale audiences happy to turn out to see versions of their own lives depicted on the screen. But more recently, as ideas about what middle age looks like have shifted, along with the changing demographics of viewers, these films have largely disappeared. Which is what makes the seriocomic “The Invite” feel both fresh and something of a throwback — a movie for those who worry about losing their edge.

Directed by Olivia Wilde, “The Invite” was a clear standout when it premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January and now arrives in theaters as one of the best dramas of the year so far. It feels daring for how it wants to actually examine the emotional costs of contemporary grown-up life, bringing wincing laughs of recognition.

The film begins with married couple Angela and Joe, played by Wilde and Seth Rogen, checking back in at their home in San Francisco at the end of the day. He has been at the teaching job he resents and she has been frantically preparing for the dinner party she may not have told him about. Their daughter is away at a sleepover for the evening and it seems they no longer fully know how to relate to each other. As they bicker and jab, their quiet dissatisfaction with their lives stops being so quiet.

Angela has invited over their neighbors from the apartment upstairs, who they do not know well and who often have loud sex. That couple, Piña and Hawk, played by Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton, seems more assured, self-possessed and adventurous, the kind of people you can absent-mindedly invent stories about, assuming their lives are much cooler than your own.

Things go in ways both expected and unexpected, the two couples warily feeling each other out as they wait to spring their own private agendas. Over the course of the evening, things will be alternately tense, flirty, vulnerable and revelatory as surprisingly little food is eaten. (Other substances get ingested instead.)

An adaptation of Cesc Gay’s 2020 Spanish film “Sentimental,” the screenplay is credited to Rashida Jones and Will McCormack. In an unusual step, the script was further workshopped and developed with the cast during rehearsals. Rogen came up with some of the biggest laugh lines and Norton wrote the deeply earnest monologue he delivers late in the film. (The popular Belgian psychotherapist Esther Perel is also credited as a consultant.)

This American version expands upon the characters more than Gay’s original film while consistently returning to the disappointment of Angela and Joe’s lives in terms both big and small. Neither of them are the people they once thought they might become. Whether two people who are each unhappy can make it as a couple becomes the overriding theme of the film.

This is Wilde’s third movie as a director and it is, by far, her most cohesive and accomplished, both contained and expansive. Her debut, 2019’s charming end-of-high-school tale “Booksmart,” had a throw-everything-at-the-wall quality, as if she wanted to get out every idea and try every trick in case she never got another chance to direct. Wilde’s follow-up, the 2022 psychodrama “Don’t Worry Darling,” became mired in behind-the-scenes gossip and tabloid speculation that overshadowed what was intended as a stylized portrait of female rage and discontent.

Her latest fulfills and exceeds the promise of those earlier movies. Shot on 35mm film by cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra, the action of “The Invite” is almost entirely confined to Angela and Joe’s apartment, which thanks to a recent renovation has plenty of rooms to explore. All four players are exceptional in their roles, playing smartly off their screen personas while exploring the nuances of the characters and their intersecting dynamics.

Wilde’s Angela is expressive and antic; Rogen’s Joe is sullen and snarky. Cruz is alluring and watchful, while Norton turns out to be the film’s secret weapon. He has a low-key comic energy and helps guide the story through a few of its trickier emotional turns. At one point he simply rises from behind a couch and it plays like a punchline.

Skip the next two paragraphs if you want to hold onto the film’s purest pleasures. Those noises from upstairs have been Piña and Hawk hosting group sex parties and they are now cruising Angela and Joe for some extramarital couples’ fun. Here, the movie pivots from passive-aggressive party conversation into farce, as Angela and Joe try to process the idea anyone else might find them desirable, as they have long since given up on seeing themselves in that way.

Wilde in particular lights up during this section, Angela’s mind racing at possibilities she never considered for herself while fumbling over the practicalities of protocols and just how this would work. Before pushing the film into its final forlorn section, the excitement that something sexy might happen charges the actors. It is very likely that streams of Sade’s seductive “By Your Side” will skyrocket.

But the focus stays very much on the struggles of married life. One of the biggest strengths of “The Invite” is the way it keeps evolving as the night progresses so it never feels claustrophobic or repetitive. There is a sense of visual invention and imagination to the film that continues all the way through, such as a moment when Wilde crouches down to check on a doomed soufflé in the oven and addresses the camera directly, looking up as if talking to Rogen. The viewer is frequently placed in an adjacent POV to the different characters, as if you are there in the room too.

The film has a propulsive rhythm to it, a relentlessness, even as Wilde and editors Yorgos Mavropsaridis and Anthony Boys know when to ease off the throttle and take it easy for a bit. The film breathes in a dynamic way, the last few beats taking a startling turn toward a somber wistfulness. The ending is just enigmatic enough to have audiences talking it through as they make their way out of the theater.

The end credits include a handwritten dedication, “For Diane,” a nod to Diane Keaton. The live-wire wit and idiosyncratic verve that she embodied in “Reds” and “Something’s Gotta Give” are very much on display here. Early in the story, Norton dryly notes, “We love a contentious environment.” Thanks to Wilde’s confident direction and the ensemble’s unpredictable performances, audiences will too.

POP superstars Madonna and Kylie Minogue get into the groove as they film a comedy bar sketch for Madge’s special with Graham Norton.

Madonna, 67, invited Kylie, 58, to take part in the top-secret filming last month, having admired her career for over a decade, the Sun can reveal.

A source said: “Madonna and Kylie have long been fans of each other, so when Kylie got the call to make a cameo in the BBC special, it was a no-brainer. Rather than a performance, Kylie actually appears in the show in a light-hearted skit.

“She plays a barmaid, though, awkwardly, Madonna doesn’t like the drink Kylie gives her. It’s all very light-hearted.”

The Sun understands the pair have discussed hitting the studio together in the future.

The TV special, Madonna & Graham, airs tonight at 10.40pm on BBC One.

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It was filmed in Camden at Koko, where Madonna performed for the first time in the UK for just 200 people in 1983 when it was called the Camden Palace.

Graham said: “As a lifelong fan it is always a thrill to interview Madonna. But to meet her on the dance floor where she first performed in London over 40 years ago felt incredibly special.”

Kylie made a surprise guest appearance at Madonna’s The Celebration Tour in LA in 2024.

They performed Gloria Gaynor’s 1978 hit I Will Survive in a nod to Kylie’s 2005 breast cancer battle.

WASHINGTON — Jennifer Siebel Newsom has spent more than a decade cultivating an identity distinct from her husband, Gov. Gavin Newsom, as an active documentary filmmaker and gender equity activist with her own organizations, staff and salary.

The 51-year-old calls herself California’s “first partner,” a title she coined herself to signal an equal footing with the governor and gender inclusivity.

Her independent streak has generated her a steady income. She earns money from a set of organizations she founded or controls. They include the Representation Project, a nonprofit that advocates for gender equity through film and education programs; Girls Club Entertainment, a for-profit production company she owns that holds the copyrights to her documentaries; and the California Partners Project, a second nonprofit that works closely with her government office and receives donations solicited by the governor.

Since its creation in 2020, the California Partners Project has received nearly $5.1 million from so-called “behested payments,” raising alarms over the years about the influence large companies have amassed in Sacramento.

California law allows officials to solicit donations to specific charitable or governmental causes when the payments are reported within 30 days. The public donation system, however, came under scrutiny in 2020 when payments made at Newsom’s behest — to a variety of organizations, not just the California Partners Project — ballooned to an unprecedented $226 million to help fund the response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

With no limit on how much money can be donated by organizations or individuals at the behest of the governor, millions of dollars flowed in to prop up public services during the pandemic and fund Newsom’s favored programs, including an effort to address homelessness and a public safety campaign promoting the importance of wearing masks. The top donor of Newsom-behested payments in 2020 was tech giant Facebook, which gave $27 million for gift cards that went to front-line healthcare workers and for public health ads.

“It’s not illegal, but it certainly pushes the bounds of campaign finance law, and the first couple has been doing this for some time,” said David McCuan, a political science professor at Sonoma State University. “In this battle between Newsom and [President] Trump this makes their [the first couple’s] actions, these payments and the operation of the nonprofits a rich target for scrutiny.”

The Newsoms’ financial arrangements are now the subject of renewed scrutiny. The governor has accused the Trump administration — specifically, the FBI and the Internal Revenue Service — of questioning their friends and former employees about him and his wife. The governor said the probes are politically motivated, a personal vendetta because he’s considering a run for president in 2028.

Newsom said he and his wife have nothing to hide, and promised to release all of his recent tax returns — though he has not announced when.

In turn, the governor has demanded that the Department of Justice release all records pertaining to the probe.

“The American people deserve to know who ordered this abuse of power and how far it goes,” the governor wrote on social media last week.

“These are dark days in our nation’s history when the leader of the free world spews animus openly and without shame — aiming to silence and destroy not only his political opponents, but their friends, colleagues, and families,” Siebel Newsom said in a statement to The Times. ”My husband and I will continue to push back on this vindictive attack — and I certainly will not let this distract me from the important work ahead to protect the health, wealth, and safety of women and children and give California kids the best start in life. Together, we can set an example of strong leadership that protects people rather than preys on them.”

To better understand the finances, here is a breakdown of how Siebel Newsom’s company and nonprofits are working.

The Representation Project

Alongside the release of her first documentary, “Miss Representation,” in 2011, Siebel Newsom created her nonprofit, which originally shared the same name as her film. The organization licenses her films and reimburses costs to her production company.

The nonprofit earns some revenue from licensing the first partner’s documentaries for use in classrooms, college campuses and workplaces. Licensing for film screenings at schools starts at $49, while corporate licensing for her films starts at $995; purchase of screening rights also comes with curricula to facilitate discussions.

The Representation Project has earned more than $5.2 million in revenue from film screenings, licensing and speaking fees since 2011, according to a review of its tax filings.

The Representation Project is not required to disclose its donors but has received at least $2.6 million since 2014 from various charitable foundations that disclosed the gifts in their own tax filings. Several corporations that have had business before the state have donated to Siebel Newsom’s nonprofit, including Pacific Gas & Electric Co., AT&T and Kaiser Permanente.

Its past donors also include entrepreneur and progressive donor Susie Thompkins Buell, who is credited as a producer on several of Siebel Newsom’s documentaries, as well as the Marin Community Foundation and Onward Together, the political action organization founded by Hillary Clinton.

Four months after Newsom took office in 2019, the state Department of Education recommended that high schools screen two of his wife’s films, “Miss Representation” and “The Mask You Live In,” a move that has garnered criticism from conservative media outlets. The state said the films “can help facilitate a discussion about the impact of mass media and gender socialization on self-image and relationships with others.”

Though it does not specify where its films have been licensed, the nonprofit boasts in annual impact reports that its films and curricula have “reached over 2 million students” and “are being used in over 5,000 schools in fifty U.S. states.”

Since founding the Representation Project in 2011, Siebel Newsom has received more than $1.9 million in compensation from the nonprofit organization, according to a review of federal tax records. Her separately owned film production company, Girls Club Entertainment, has collected about $2.2 million in independent contracts from the nonprofit, records show.

Combined, the two streams of money total about $4.1 million flowing from the charity to Siebel Newsom personally or to entities she controls over the span of a little over a decade.

Her current annual salary is $161,250 for a 40-hour workweek, records show. Siebel Newsom earns income from both her production company and her nonprofit, according to state financial disclosures.

Jeff Tenenbaum, a nonprofit attorney with 30 years of experience advising nonprofit, tax-exempt organizations, declined to comment on Siebel Newsom’s specific case. But generally, he explained the legal framework that would apply to an arrangement like the one described in the filings.

Under federal tax-exempt organization law, he said, the “private benefit doctrine” governs whether a nonprofit’s overall activities unduly benefit any single individual — including through indirect payments to entities they own. The tax law asks whether too much benefit flows to one person or entity.

This is separate and distinct from the “private inurement” doctrine, which prohibits nonprofits from paying greater-than-fair market value compensation to insiders, including founders, and which requires that such compensation arrangements be approved by individuals with no conflicts of interest.

“Theoretically, a situation like this could raise some private benefit concerns,” Tenenbaum said, when the structure of the arrangement was described to him.

The doctrine does not prohibit all private benefit, he said, only what the federal tax code calls “impermissible” private benefit.

“There has to be too much benefit compared to the benefit to the public,” he said. Whether that threshold is crossed here, he said, would require a fuller review of the organization’s finances, contracts, and other considerations, including copyright ownership issues relating to the films produced.

Girls Club Entertainment

An actress and documentary filmmaker, Siebel Newsom founded her production company to develop independent films with a focus on combating gender stereotypes and empowering girls and women. She serves as the company’s chief creative officer.

She has written, produced and directed five films exploring themes of inequality and traditional gender roles. Siebel Newsom is best known for her 2011 documentary “Miss Representation,” which focused on the few and narrow representations of girls and women in American media.

Tax records show that the production company owns the rights to “Miss Representation” and has licensed the film to the Representation Project for a minimum of seven years for the purpose of distributing and screening the film in public. Costs associated with film production — including the writer, director and producer fees — have been reimbursed by the Representation Project, tax filings show.

Her latest documentary, “Miss Representation: Rise Up,” examines “the rising backlash against women’s progress and the hostile landscape of technology designed to harass and, ultimately, silence women.” The film premiered this month at the Tribeca Film Festival.

California Partners Project

In 2020, Siebel Newsom founded the California Partners Project, a nonprofit focused on improving gender equity in the workplace and the safety and well-being of children in online spaces. She does not collect compensation from the nonprofit or serve on its board.

It hosts an annual “gender equity summit” and provides resources for parents on issues such as social media safety and child mental health.

In the fall of 2024, Siebel Newsom and the California Partners Project hosted representatives from TikTok, Meta, Pinterest and other social media platforms for an event about children’s online safety. A day before the panel, state Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta took a more forceful tack to go after the tech industry by joining with 13 other states in a lawsuit against TikTok that accused the platform of exploiting young app users with its addictive features.

In September of 2024, the governor signed a bill to prohibit internet services and applications from providing “addictive feeds,” defined as media curated based on information gathered on or provided by the user, to minors without parental consent.

The California Partners Project also does not publicly disclose its donors in its tax filings, but much of the nonprofit’s funding appears to come from behested payments. Siebel Newsom does not receive a salary from the organization.

Since its founding, the Newsoms have steered more than $5 million to the nonprofit via behested payments, according to a review of the disclosures. While many donations to the California Partners Project come from charitable foundations, it also received hundreds of thousands from companies including Silicon Valley Bank, Pinterest and the charitable arm of Blue Shield of California.

Its biggest funder is the Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria, a Sonoma County tribe that operates a casino in Rohnert Park and spends heavily in state and federal elections. The tribe has given $2.3 million to the nonprofit since 2022. In June 2023, Newsom appointed tribal Chairman Greg Sarris to the University of California Board of Regents. Newsom has also supported efforts by the tribe to block a smaller tribe from building a casino in nearby Vallejo.

Blue Shield, which has reported giving $100,000 to Siebel Newsom’s nonprofit, also has a cozy relationship with her husband. The nonprofit health insurer was an early donor to Newsom’s 2018 campaign for governor and later received a $15-million no-bid contract to distribute COVID vaccines. State regulators in 2024 also signed off on the nonprofit’s request to restructure and establish a new parent corporation out of state, a move that raised alarm among healthcare advocates.

The California Partners Project did not respond to questions about its donors and spending.

Kara Zor-El (Milly Alcock) can swill an entire sorority’s supply of booze. As a Kryptonian, her hangovers are instantly cured by a yellow sun. And so director Craig Gillespie’s “Supergirl” follows a trail of empty beer bottles to find Superman’s lonely younger cousin marking her birthday on a solo interstellar bender, pounding shots alongside her dog, Krypto.

Unlike sweet-natured Kal-El (David Corenswet), a.k.a. Clark Kent, who escaped Krypton as a baby, this traumatized 20-something bore witness to their home planet’s long and painful extinction. Playing grief like the sandblasted absence of emotion, Alcock’s Supergirl isn’t in the mood for Metropolis do-gooding. She prefers slumming it at extraterrestrial honky-tonks with suitors who look like armadillo-plated slugs. She’s most visibly depressed when she tries to convince herself she’s having fun.

Who doesn’t want to go on a “Star Wars” cantina crawl? The opening stretch of “Supergirl” is great — Alcock even passes out on a toilet with aplomb. Briefly we hope that Gillespie and screenwriter Ana Nogueira are shaking up the superhero format like a bottle of gas-station champagne. I’d love to see Alcock’s heroine in a grotty, silly “Animal House”-style comedy, out-drinking a galaxy of alien squids. But the limits of Hollywood’s imagination squeeze Supergirl to stop partying and start doing some regular old rescuing. Sigh. Someone’s gotta save franchise movies from themselves.

As usual, there’s a tyke in trouble: 13-year-old Ruthye (Eve Ridley), a fellow orphan with a ramrod disposition and a tidy brunet braid that gives away that her character is modeled on Hailee Steinfeld’s vengeful teenager in “True Grit.” Ruthye wants to hunt and kill the creep who murdered her family. Unlike Supergirl, the child thinks it’s healthier to exorcise — not imbibe — one’s heartache. The duo visit an Epstein-island-like planet of kidnapped breeding women where, in one of the script’s subtler sick horrors, the locals imply that pubescent Ruthye is more valuable than aged 23-year-old Supergirl. (Although some of the caged extras appear to be as ancient as 30.) It’s yet another swiped idea, this one from “Mad Max: Fury Road,” for a minor story beat that’s unnecessary. Still, Alcock reacts with exactly the right note of disdain: “Cool,” she croaks. ‘Nuff said.

They’ve come to this cesspool to find the villainous Krem, an unrecognizably vile Matthias Schoenaerts with a mug that’s been pierced all over like he face-planted into a pile of thumbtacks. His biker-scumbag-times-infinity prosthetic design is fantastic, but what makes it genius is that the makeup team allowed a couple of metal studs to fall off Krem’s forehead before his first close-up. You know, for that lived-in barbarian sex trafficker look.

As Ruthye, Ridley’s crisp British elocution is the cleanest thing in the movie, which is shot by Rob Hardy in shades of mustard smog and latrine brown. Neither Supergirl as a babysitter nor Gillespie as a storyteller let the kid carry her share of the action, but I suspect Ridley has the talent for it. She seizes her small opportunities to impress in the film’s second half. Spitting on a baddie, her righteous loogie stings like a moral disinfectant.

Meanwhile, Jason Momoa swaggers into the fray from the cover of an ’80s hard-rock album with Kiss’ makeup, Manowar’s muscles and Meatloaf’s motorcycle. His character, a blue-skinned bounty hunter, only tangentially slots into the plot. Really, Momoa’s massive presence is here to prove that James Gunn was serious when he announced he was hard-resetting DC Comics’ film canon up to 2023’s “Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom.” Momoa as Aquaman is dead. Long live Momoa as Whoever This Guy Is.

Gillespie likes to champion difficult women, from Tonya Harding in “I, Tonya” to the Dalmatian-skinning Disney villain of “Cruella.” Yet as his budgets have mounted, so has the pressure to make his problematic ladies popular with a mass audience. “Supergirl” feels anxious to entertain. The jokes all have the same sense of snarky humor, no matter what species is cracking them. One scene even has a comic slow clap that, in my theater, didn’t get a reaction. The camera and cutting pace refuse to relax. Major set-piece action shots are impossible to follow. You can’t squint past the distracting lens flares.

Alcock’s wildling Supergirl is the one reason to see the film. As in her too-brief role on the “Game of Thrones” prequel “House of the Dragon” and her rollicking cameo at the end of 2025’s “Superman,” the Australian actor is a striking combination of grounded conviction and otherworldly essence, the ideal one-two for a character who plays anti-gravity fetch with her dog. Floating weightless in the stars, her hair unbrushed and bathrobe-like jacket shrugged on, she makes the impossible look casual. (Supergirl’s iconic red-and-blue minidress is so not her style.)

Alas, Krypto the pup is sidelined early on with a whimper, both from him and us. Maybe he’ll get more screen time when the digital animators figure out how to make him look more realistic. (Between the mutt’s anime eyes and that gawky-phony deer in “Disclosure Day,” are CGI creatures getting worse?)

Grief tethers Supergirl to Ruthye, even though they disagree on how to handle it, and it also seems to repel her from Corenswet’s dopey, innocent Clark Kent. There’s rich irony in the personality contrast between the cousins. Her Kryptonian parents raised her to help humanity; his parents intended their son to rule it. But due to twists of fate, she’s the miserable, maladjusted one. The movie has no time to mine the psychology underneath their clash, let alone summon a sniffle for the other pitiful characters who die during this escapade. Perhaps it’s holding that tension back for a sequel, but I’d rather invest in the characters now.

A flashback to Supergirl’s first touchdown on Earth has the awkwardness of a study-abroad student realizing she doesn’t like her host country at all. Despite our planet seeming to have enforced its monoculture on outer space — an extraterrestrial dive bar band even does “The Girl From Ipanema” — Supergirl appreciates little of it besides some product-placement dog treats and, in a forced touch, the pop music on her headphones as well as crammed into the soundtrack next to Claudia Sarne’s gravelly score. I’ll accept this degenerate Supergirl sporting a retro Blondie shirt, but not her willingly choosing to listen to mopey contemporary Earth jams like Rilo Kiley and a twee cover of Jimmy Eat World over, say, Kryptonian death metal.

Still, the production design has imaginatively askew takes on the mundane: gridded jail cells, plodding space buses, clumsy oxygen suits that shimmy on with a satisfying squeak. When Supergirl makes a pit stop at a celestial convenience store, she samples a snack that I’m forced to call poop-corn. If “Supergirl” sells enough of it, hopefully Alcock can rampage again in a more confident sequel that truly cuts loose.

Two of the biggest box-office standouts of 2026 so far were not made by established studio directors or built on franchise IP.

“Obsession” and “Backrooms” — horror films from internet-native directors in their 20s — have outperformed far more expensive studio releases.

The breakout success of these films has ignited debate across Hollywood about what made these movies so popular, especially among Gen Z moviegoers who haven’t been flocking to cinemas in recent years. Here’s what to know:

The numbers

”Obsession” was directed by 26-year-old Curry Barker, who got his start on YouTube with sketch comedy and horror shorts. Released May 15 by Focus Features, the film was made for just $750,000 but opened to a staggering $17 million and has improved on its debut every weekend since.

“Obsession” set an all-time horror record for the biggest fourth weekend for a film at the domestic box office, raking in $25.4 million. It now ranks as the year’s fifth most popular film, nearing $200 million domestically and roughly $295 million worldwide — ahead of Pixar’s “Hoppers” ($166 million) and Paramount’s “Scream 7” ($121 million), per Box Office Mojo.

“Backrooms,” from 21-year-old Kane Parsons — known on YouTube as Kane Pixels — drew on an online fascination with liminal spaces, leading audiences through an endless run of nearly indistinguishable rooms.

Released May 29 by A24 (known for such acclaimed films as “Moonlight” and Everything Everywhere All at Once”) on a reported $10-million budget, it opened to $81 million and crossed $100 million in under a week.

Within two and a half weeks, it had outgrossed the entire theatrical runs of horror films “Five Nights at Freddy’s 2,” “Smile” and “Scream 7.” It sits as 2026’s eighth-highest-grossing film.

Who is watching?

The audiences are young. In recent weeks, nearly 90% of “Backrooms’” viewers were under 35, with more than half under 25. Over “Obsession’s” first few weekends, 75% of the audience was 17 to 34, which is significant at a time when major studios have struggled to consistently get younger viewers to trek to the multiplex.

Why it’s working

Audiences have clearly latched onto the stories, said Jason Blum of Blumhouse–Atomic Monster, who worked on both films.

“There’s been an audience kind of waiting to get back to the movie theaters, and we in Hollywood really have not landed on what would get them back,” he told The Times in an interview this week.

Blum, who upended horror genre with the “Paranormal Activity” franchise, ties the success of “Backrooms” and “Obsession” to a connection to the directors’ origins.

Because the films were made by creators who speak to younger viewers daily on YouTube, he said, that generation “feels like they’re being spoken to.”

David Gross, an analyst at FranchiseRe, framed it as a new pipeline of talent and material. Creators can build large followings very inexpensively, he said, and their stories arrive further developed — which expedites the development and discovery process. He called internet-based storytelling “another additive source for material for movies.” Blum added that the films’ success could make studios more willing to bet on undiscovered directors who “might not have been considered” before.

Rosie Ramirez, chief marketing officer at Galaxy Theatres, said a young first-wave audience tends to generate buzz. More than a month after “Obsession” was released, she said, the Nevada chain’s four California locations are only now seeing a second wave of moviegoers curious about the hype.

Notably, the rise of these two films has unfolded in the shadow of major releases like Disney’s “Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu,” and Mattel’s “Masters of the Universe,” both of which returned underwhelming numbers in their respective opening weekends.

Is it a trend or an anomaly?

Whether this marks a lasting shift or a fluke is unclear. May crossed $1 billion in box office — with “Backrooms” and “Obsession” doing much of the heavy lifting. Despite the improvement, the box office has yet to full return to pre-pandemic levels, with the summer tracking roughly 3.5% behind summer 2019, said Comscore’s Paul Dergarabedian.

And Dergarabedian questioned how the industry could replicate a success that, in his words, was “authentically and organically created” rather than manufactured: “It just happened,” he said.

Ramirez argued the broader summer slate — franchise tentpoles like “Toy Story 5” alongside some original surprises — points to a healthy box office regardless, a reminder that “it doesn’t always have to be the big summer blockbuster.”

TUCKED away in the Tuscan countryside is a tiny town called Pienza – and it is about to get a lot more famous.

The small town was the used to film Netflix movie You, Me and Tuscany.

It features in the scene where Anna (Halle Bailey) first meets Michael (Regé-Jean Page).

Anna accuses him of stealing the sandwich which she travelled more than 4,000 miles to eat – and it was filmed outside a shop in Pienza dressed to look like a deli.

It’s apt that a romantic comedy was filmed in Pienza as the town is known for having love-themed street names.

A few are Via dell’Amore which translates into ‘love street’ and Via del Bacio which is ‘kiss street’.

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Pienza sits within the Val d’Orcia valley which is known for its rolling green fields and has been described as “a charming little town” by visitors.

One of the most impressive buildings within the town is Piccolomini Palace which was built in 1459.

The impressive Renaissance building has a beautiful garden with views of Val d’Orcia, later becoming a summer residence for Pope Pius II.

Now, most of the property is open to visitors as it is mostly a museum.

When it comes to food, the town has plenty to offer and is known for having high quality cured meats and fresh truffles.

The town is particularly famous for Cacio di Pienza, or Pecorino cheese – usually grated over pasta or eaten on a cheese board.

To celebrate its cheese, the town even holds a festival dedicated to it on the first Sunday in September that includes a cheese-rolling competition.

For those who want to stay in Pienza, you’ll mainly find holiday rentals over hotels.

One that is popular is Casa Olivieri, with the one-bedroom apartment starting from £90.

The closest airport that has direct UK flights is in Florence – from there it’s a one hour and 40-minute drive.

What is the angriest acting performance you’ve ever seen?

Maybe it’s Joe Pesci in “Goodfellas.” (“Funny how? Do I amuse you?”) Perhaps it’s James Caan kicking the stuffing out of his ne’er-do-well brother-in-law Carlo in “The Godfather.” John Goodman enforcing the rules of bowling in “The Big Lebowski”? It’s in the conversation.

Did Ben Kingsley in “Gandhi” cross your mind? Probably not.

The 82-year-old Oscar winner thinks it should.

I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. Don Logan or Mahatma Gandhi? The answer isn’t as plain as you might think.

Not long ago, I spoke with Kingsley just before an Emmy FYC event for “Wonder Man,” the enjoyable new Marvel TV series that finds him revisiting Trevor Slattery, the washed-up, drug-addled actor he first played in 2013’s “Iron Man 3.”

“Wonder Man” follows struggling actor Simon Williams (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), trying to land a big break in Hollywood while keeping his superpowers hidden. Trevor befriends Simon. Initially he has ulterior motives, but soon becomes Simon’s mentor, turning the series into a look at the indignities that actors face while pursuing their profession.

Taking notes while watching the show’s eight episodes, I wrote, “Ben Kingsley’s seething anger is everything.”

You may remember Kingsley’s bullying and badgering and swaggering menace playing the underworld sociopath in Jonathan Glazer’s 2000 crime-thriller “Sexy Beast,” still my favorite Kingsley performance, one that earned him a supporting actor Oscar nomination. (He lost to Jim Broadbent in “Iris.”)

Is that kind of boiling rage as fun to play as it is to watch?

“If the expression of rage or indignation is completely dramatically justified and that expression of indignation is of enormous benefit to the tribe, yes,” Kingsley answers.

(Larsen&Talbert / For The Times)

Kingsley says Itzhak Stern, Oskar Schindler’s loyal aide and factory manager in “Schindler’s List,” was, “bless him,” all about “contained rage.”

“And a colleague of mine who saw ‘Gandhi’ said, ‘That’s the angriest performance I’ve ever seen on screen,’” Kingsley continues. “That righteous indignation propelled him, and it can be expressed in many ways. Sometimes the safety valve is efficient enough to allow it to come through language and gesture, and sometimes the safety valve can’t hold it.

“That was Don Logan in ‘Sexy Beast.’ No safety valve.”

Let’s circle back to that thought of how rage can help the “tribe.” In “Wonder Man,” Trevor proclaims that “acting is not a job. It’s a calling, the single most consequential thing anyone could ever do with their life.”

“I would broaden the definition and refine it back to its origins,” Kingsley says when I ask if he shares Trevor’s view on acting. “There are images, thoughts and threads that I find nourishing and sustaining, and I treasure them. The tribal storyteller is a very consequential figure in the tribe, and if the mantle of the tribal storyteller falls upon that person’s shoulders, that is the single most consequential thing that person can do in their lives.”

“Trevor expresses it quite differently, and that’s fine,” Kingsley says. “That’s in the script. I honor the lines. But for me personally, as a rather convoluted answer, the tribal storyteller is the hand I hold and the baton I want passed on to me. Maybe it has. I hope I’m worthy, but it’s …” Kingsley widens his eyes and whispers, “Wow.”

“It is the single most consequential thing I can do with my life.”

TOY STORY 5

(PG) 102 minutes

★★★★☆

IT’S more than 30 years since the first Toy Story film changed the way we look at the contents of an old toy box.

And it might seem that after four films — and a pretty dire Buzz Lightyear spin-off in 2022 — that the story of toys could have been packed up and put in the loft for ever.

But, no. There’s always room for another play.

And Woody, Buzz and their motley crew realise there’s a new enemy sucking the imagination out of their beloved children’s minds: Technology.

The film focuses on good old rootin’-tootin’ Cowgirl Jessie (voiced by Joan Cusack), who is favoured by her owner, Bonnie.

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The kid loves nothing more than playing games where Jessie and Buzz Lightyear get hitched.

Sadly, the neighbourhood kids don’t want to join in with Bonnie. In fact, they laugh at her suggestions.

When Jessie goes on a mission to persuade them otherwise, she watches as they all sit staring at devices, like little zombies.

“That’s not playing!” she exclaims. “They’re not even looking up.”

In a misguided act of kindness, Bonnie’s parents buy her a Lilypad (Greta Lee) — a kid-friendly tablet that she can use to “connect” with other children. And, as you can imagine, this does the opposite.

Bonnie becomes addicted to the screen, while shunning her toys, losing her imagination and getting cyber-bullied by the girls in her class.

So, it becomes Jessie and the crew’s job to get her away from the screen and the misery it brings. Which, as any parent will know, is a near impossible task.

There is also another story running alongside it involving a shipment of new Buzz Lightyears trying to find their way to a star.

At the same time, Woody has to be brought into the pack as he’s living on the outside with the rebellious Bo Peep.

The brilliant dynamic between competitive pals Woody and Buzz is hugely missed here — as is Randy Newman’s superb theme tune, You’ve Got A Friend In Me.

This time, Taylor Swift’s original song, I Knew It, I Knew You, is played at the credits.

And Jessie’s relentless energy also becomes a little grating.

However, it’s great to see the gang back together on the big screen, and this outing has enough entertainment and imagination to make sure you won’t check your phone throughout.

EFFI O BLAENAU

(15) 90mins

★★★★★

THIS hard-hitting drama is adapted from Gary Owen’s one-woman play Iphigenia In Splott, which transforms his doomed Greek tragedy character into a working-class woman.

Effi (Leisa Gwenllian) has a bleak life, spending her days drinking vodka from a mug with her mates and eating Pot Noodles in a grim house in the Welsh valleys.

Her joy comes from club nights in Llandudno, where she meets handsome soldier Lee (Tom Rhys Harries) and the pair have a passionate one-night stand.

After he ghosts her, Effi discovers she’s pregnant.

But in the poorly maintained hospital in the poverty-stricken area, an NHS maternity care horror story then changes her life forever.

This Welsh-language film is a breathtaking work by director Marc Evans.

It strikes the perfect balance of grit and heart to make the subject matter compelling.

Gwenllian’s performance as the unpredictable and broken Effi is a masterclass in how to make an initially unlikeable character be- come someone you want to throw your arms around and care for.

FAMILIAR TOUCH

(12) 90mins

★★★☆☆

IN her debut feature film, director Sarah Friedland brings to life a moving story about a woman with dementia who is placed in a retirement community.

We meet clever, stylish Ruth (Kathleen Chalfant) as she’s making a delicious meal with immaculate precision. Yet at one point, she pops a piece of toast on to the dish-drying rack.

Her son then arrives – whose name she needs a reminder of – and she wonders about his profession and acts as though they may be on a date.

But he is there to take her to an assisted-living home.

Ruth has significant short-term memory loss, though she can still reel off the recipes with precision.

She enters with little protest, apart from telling the carer, in front of her son, that she never wanted children.

Chalfant’s performance is brilliant and has none of the clichés of the elderly.

Ruth is still a sassy, flirty woman who really knows her own mind even though it is betraying her.

This gentle film has a slow pace and the long, silent scenes often ask a lot of the audience – and there’s no rush in unravelling the story.

But its subtle characterisation makes it compelling and somehow uplifting.

Woody, Buzz Lightyear and Jessie will be back at the box office this weekend, delivering what could be the biggest film debut of the year.

Analysts expect the fifth installment of Disney/Pixar’s “Toy Story” franchise will pull in at least $150 million in the U.S. and Canada, with some predicting as much as $175 million — either of which would set a franchise record, topping the nearly $121-million opening of 2019’s “Toy Story 4.”

A strong showing for “Toy Story 5” will further fuel a recovery of the box office this year from the post-pandemic doldrums.

Domestic ticket sales are up over last year, and Roth Capital Partners forecasts the second quarter will climb 6.5% to $2.8 billion — a post-pandemic high.

“Toy Story 5” is the first of several family tentpoles this summer, ahead of Universal and Illumination’s “Minions & Monsters” and Disney’s live-action “Moana.”

“Right now we’re on pace for the best opening of the year,” said Daniel Loria, editorial director at Box Office Co. “This is a performer.”

The timing also is fortuitous for Walt Disney Co. at a moment when its other once-reliable franchises such as “Star Wars” and Marvel have faltered. The recent “Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu” dropped sharply at the domestic box office after its late-May opening, bested by low-budget horror films “Backrooms” and “Obsession.”

“People love these characters from ‘Toy Story,’ ” said Paul Dergarabedian, head of marketplace trends at Comscore. “It’s just as appealing as ever.”

Indeed, across four films and 30 years, “Toy Story” has grossed more than $3 billion worldwide. It is the most-watched franchise on Disney+, with more than 2 billion hours streamed. Woody, Buzz Lightyear and Jessie have spawned 19 theme park rides, four themed lands, two hotels and roughly $1 billion a year in global retail sales.

The production budget for “Toy Story 5” is about $150 million to $200 million. A crew of about 300 people worked on the film at Pixar’s Emeryville, Calif., headquarters.

For Pixar, the reliance on “Toy Story” reflects a shift away from originals that used to be its lifeblood.

February’s “Hoppers” managed a respectable $372 million worldwide, but the surer money now comes from sequels.

“Inside Out 2” grossed nearly $1.7 billion in 2024, and both “Toy Story 4” and “Toy Story 3” crossed $1 billion globally.

Still, the franchise label is no guarantee: The 2022 spin-off “Lightyear” stalled at $226 million worldwide after straying from the formula, recasting Buzz as an actual sci-fi hero — voiced by Chris Evans rather than Tim Allen — and sidelining Woody and the rest of the gang.

“Toy Story 5” stays closer to home but wades into new territory: the explosion of tech in everyday life. The toys must contend with Lilypad, a tablet that captures the attention of their owner, Bonnie — a premise that grew out of a tech-toy character originally written for “Toy Story 4” and scrapped for time. Disney is betting the underlying tension is universal.

“What parent hasn’t had anxiety over tech versus toys with their kids?” said Andrew Cripps, head of theatrical distribution for Walt Disney Studios.

Disney is betting that this universal concern will drive audiences to the film.

The fifth installment also arrives with an unusually high-wattage assist: Taylor Swift wrote and performed an original song, “I Knew It, I Knew You,” and made a surprise appearance at last week’s premiere, performing it after the credits before joining longtime franchise composer Randy Newman for “You’ve Got a Friend in Me.”

“It means the world to me to be a small part of the universe of these films,” Swift told the crowd.

The expected blockbuster opening for “Toy Story 5” would be a full-circle moment for the long-standing franchise; Pixar animators in 1995 hadn’t even considered the possibility of a sequel while working on the first “Toy Story.”

“There was so much learned on that first film, specifically our iterative process,” Pixar Chief Creative Officer Pete Docter said in a phone call last week from Madrid, shortly before the film’s Spain premiere. “A lot of things that we discovered having worked on that film have just continued to inform every movie that we make.”

“Toy Story” revolutionized the movie business as the first computer-animated feature film. But its enduring appeal was in the bonds between the characters, Docter said.

Docter, who supervised animators and helped with character design and writing on the original “Toy Story,” added: “It certainly had some new technology, but it was really up to the story and characters to carry the audience.”

The franchise’s longevity is also due to its ability to capture generations of fans.

“Having parents now that say, ‘I grew up with “Toy Story,” and now I’m showing my kids,’ has been really gratifying,” Docter said.

In this week’s episode of “The De Los Podcast,” hosts Fidel Martinez and Suzy Exposito sat down with actor Xolo Maridueña to chat about his East L.A. upbringing, the importance of Latino representation in his career and a litany of projects he has in the works.

Born and raised in El Sereno, Maridueña was exposed to the arts at a very young age through local community arts hubs Casa 0101 and the Boyle Heights Art Conservatory, where his mother, Carmelita Ramírez-Sánchez, now serves as executive director.

The 25-year-old actor credited his mom, who also previously worked as a radio DJ for decades in L.A., for encouraging him to explore a creative career.

“She was in the music world at a time when that wasn’t really a thing as a Latina woman,” Maridueña said. “She met so many roadblocks and overcame those that when it came time to for her to eventually raise her own family, she understood the want to try something that was outside of what the education system would deem successful. As a Latina, she also instilled these values of remaining curious, questioning certain traditions and the ways our experiences are affected by some systems that are larger than ourselves.”

He also touched on what it was like being the first Latino lead in a live-action superhero film in “Blue Beetle” — and the importance of continued Latino representation in Hollywood.

Xolo Maridueña is featured on “The De Los Podcast.”

(L.A. Times Studios)

“It was such a wild ride doing something like ‘Blue Beetle,’ that was the first in a lot of categories… But once the movie came out, it was so heartwarming to see that there were already like 10 other Latino superheroes that were making their debuts on the screen,” Maridueña said. “[Filming the movie] was the first time I had witnessed some much of the crew being Latino, or just being diverse — there were a lot of women and queer folks on that set.”

Having worked on hit series like “Parenthood” and the Netflix phenomenon “Cobra Kai” in addition to his theatrical roles, Maridueña wants to help provide an avenue for fellow Latino artists to succeed.

“I just hope [that] with this body of work, I can help open the door and prop it open for everyone else,” he said.

The conversation with Maridueña wrapped with him discussing the litany of projects he has coming out in the near future, including a leading role in the film “Dog Years” alongside Xochitl Gomez, a part in the Al Pacino-led movie “Killing Castro” and a spot in the upcoming season of Netflix’s live-action adaptation of “One Piece.”

He will also feature alongside Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman in the upcoming sequel to the witchy 1998 film “Practical Magic,” which is set for release Sept. 11.

“It’s been a blessing to expand not only the types of people I’ve gotten to work with, but [also] the genres and types of characters I’ve gotten to bring on to the screen,” said Maridueña. “Projects like ‘One Piece’ are so wonderful for the reach and then movies like ‘Dog Years’ and ‘Killing Castro’ are just as fulfilling in the sense that because they get to be smaller productions, the cast and crew have a bit more ownership of what they’re doing.”

The Scream movie series is one of horror’s most successful franchises and has seven films under its belt

A star from the horror film franchise Scream has revealed the surprising amount he still earns from one of the movies.

Back in 1996, the Scream series kicked off with its first instalment. Directed by Wes Craven, the film followed Sidney Prescott and her friends being targeted by a sadistic killer who donned a black cloak and white mask: Ghostface.

Due to the first film’s success, several more movies followed including a sequel in 1997, and a third instalment in 2000. Then, after 11 years Scream 4 was released in 2011.

And more recently, the slasher franchise was brought back in 2022 for a fifth movie and 2023 for a sixth. This year, a seventh film was released which became the highest-grossing film of the series so far.

The satirical whodunnit was a huge hit thanks to a clever script penned by Kevin Williamson and Wes Craven’s direction, while the characters’ awareness and acknowledgement of horror film clichés was uncommon at the time. Scream helped to revive interest in the teen slasher genre.

And this week, a star from Scream 2 revealed his residual pay from the film 29 years after its release. Actor and comedian Craig Shoemaker appeared in the sequel, Scream 2 – which made $172 million at the box office.

Craig played the role of ‘Artsy Teacher’ in the instalment. Taking to his Instagram, he shared a photo of his residuals cheque which revealed he made a total of $34.09.

He captioned the post: “In 1999 | was cast in the role of the film professor in the sequel of the original Scream movie, Scream 2, where I lead a conversation in class about film sequels. The residuals keep rolling in, baby! What should I buy with my 34 bucks?”

The latest Scream movie, Scream 7, was released earlier this year. The film shifted the focus back to the original final girl, Sidney Prescott – played by Neve Campbell and her teenage daughter Tatum, played by Isabel May.

Neve didn’t appear in the sixth Scream film in 2024, which starred Jenna Ortega and Melissa Barrera as sisters who discover a serious connection to one of the original Ghostface killers, Billy Loomis.

Neve announced she would be stepping away from the 2024 Scream film after a dispute over pay. She said in a statement: “Sadly, I won’t be making the next Scream film. As a woman I have had to work extremely hard in my career to establish my value, especially when it comes to Scream.

“I felt the offer that was presented to me did not equate to the value I have brought to the franchise. It’s been a very difficult decision to move on,” Neve added.

She continued: “To all my Scream fans, I love you. You’ve always been so incredibly supportive to me. I’m forever grateful to you and to what this franchise has given me over the past 25 years.”