It was a very warm homecoming at the box office this weekend for Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey,” as the star-studded epic grossed $124.5 million in the U.S. and Canada, a welcome and massive jolt for theaters after a series of slower weeks.
The Universal Pictures film’s haul outperformed studio expectations of a $117 million domestic opening and set a record for the highest-grossing opening weekend for a live-action or R-rated film so far this year.
“The Odyssey” now ranks as the third-highest domestic debut of 2026, trailing only Disney and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5” ($159.7 million) and Universal, Illumination and Nintendo’s “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” ($131.7 million).
The film, which stars Matt Damon as Odysseus, brought in a total of $264.1 million worldwide, according to studio estimates. That marks the biggest global opening ever for a Nolan film.
“The Odyssey” was produced by Nolan and his wife and producing partner Emma Thomas for their company, Syncopy, and had a production budget of about $200 million to $250 million.
“It delivers on every sort of promise,” said Jim Orr, Universal’s president of domestic distribution. “It is totally immersive. It is great emotional storytelling. It is something that truly has to be experienced on the big screen.”
The nearly three-hour epic is the first feature to be shot entirely on Imax cameras, a feat that required extensive cooperation between Nolan and the Canadian entertainment tech company, which operates out of Playa Vista.
Nolan first told Imax Chief Executive Rich Gelfond in early 2024 that he was considering making an entire film with Imax cameras and laid out what he’d need for that to happen, including a quieter and lighter camera, a way to make film reloads easier and getting enough trained projectionists.
“It took a fair amount of time and investment” to figure out those challenges, Gelfond said. But by August 2024, the Imax team put together a series of tests to show cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema. Two months later, Nolan saw the tests and was impressed.
“As filmmakers and studios integrate Imax, we become an increasingly important part of the ecosystem,” Gelfond said. “When a film is released in Imax or shot in Imax, I think it’s a signal to audiences that it’s somewhat special, and the filmmaker is really leaning in in a unique way.”
Anticipation for the film has been building for at least a year, when the first Imax 70mm tickets went on sale. Pre-sales for “The Odyssey” shattered the previous Imax record by nearly double, the company said.
Enhanced formats made up 53% of the domestic weekend’s total, with both film and digital Imax revenue comprising 23.8%. Imax 70mm comprised about 4% of that total, with Imax digital making up the rest. Non-Imax 70mm film screening revenue totaled 3%, while 35mm showings made up 0.3%.
Adding to the film’s mystique is Nolan’s reliance on old-school Hollywood practical effects, such as his use of puppetry, animatronics and robotics in scenes with the Cyclops, as well as a real Viking boat that the actors learned to sail.
The massive reception for the film is a relief for theater owners, who weathered their own rough waters in the last few weeks, as Walt Disney Co.’s live-action “Moana” underperformed in its opening at the box office and Universal and Illumination’s “Minions & Monsters” had a softer debut.
“Moana” came in second at the box office this weekend with a domestic haul of $19 million. “Minions & Monsters” ($14.8 million), “Toy Story 5” ($14.8 million) and Warner Bros. Pictures’ “Evil Dead Burn” ($5 million) rounded out the top five, according to data from Rentrak.
On paper, Lauren Meyering’s debut feature “Horsegirls” sounds like it was made in a 2000s indie movie lab: It features a quirky heroine with a unique hobby, a loved one with a devastating illness and the formation of an unlikely community that rallies around our protagonist and her dream. But surprise — the events of “Horsegirls” are inspired by a true story, one close to Meyering, who based the film on her family friends Mackenzie and Sandra Breeden. Sometimes real life can be the realest indie movie of all.
“Horsegirls” might read on paper as too sickly sweet, but Meyering’s thoughtful direction and star Lillian Carrier’s performance keep it from tipping too far in that direction. Carrier stars as Margarita, a young woman with autism who lives with her cancer-stricken mother, Sandy (Gretchen Mol). The pair are inseparable, with Margarita accompanying her mother to chemotherapy treatments and their own special celebration rituals involving karaoke and sharing combo platters.
Sandy desperately wants Margarita to get a job but her first steps toward independence come when she spies a hobby horse rehearsal and becomes fixated on joining. If you’re unfamiliar with hobby horsing, it’s a sport originating from Finland that’s growing in popularity. It involves a choreographed routine involving elements of gymnastics and traditional dressage performed while using a “hobby horse” — a stuffed horse head on a stick.
For Margarita, who loves horses but isn’t allowed to interact with them due to her mother’s safety fears, it seems the perfect solution, and she persists despite the clique-ish mean girl behavior from some of the younger participants. The coach (Jerod Haynes) sees her determination and encourages her participation, so she gets a job at a Halloween store to pay for it but keeps it a secret from Sandy. As it turns out, both mother and daughter are keeping secrets from each other.
While the plot unfolds in a fairly predictable manner, it’s the character of Margarita who keeps us on our toes. Carrier, who also has autism, brings an inherent authenticity to the role as well as a sense of good humor that draws people to Margarita, a character who always says what’s on her mind, whether or not it’s polite or appropriate. But her refreshing honesty is what people respond to, and both she and Sandy know she’s going to need people in the not-so-distant future.
Meyering carefully threads the themes of parental concern and young adult independence throughout her screenplay. The anxieties are universal — any parent wants to feel assured that their child is going to be OK when they’re gone; any child wants to prove that they’re capable and free to do what they want. Characters like Margarita’s store manager Hank (Iqbal Theba) prove that strangers can “get” Margarita just as she is, without her mother’s interference or interpretation, even if it takes some time for Sandy to understand that.
Meyering and cinematographer Natalie Kingston create a naturalistic and often dark look, though “Horsegirls” is beautifully shot. The distinctive photography sets it apart cinematically from other films in this genre — just like Margarita herself, who visually stands out from the other girls.
This is a simple story executed with singular panache, and while “Horsegirls” follows expected narrative beats, it’s in the moments of surprise that it works best, often thanks to Carrier and her straightforward line deliveries, which help the tone pop. The film is a reminder that conformity is never compulsory, and that putting yourself out there is the only way to find out who’s ready to catch you.
Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.
The unprecedented ticket mayhem built hype — not just for the film, but for the format. By the time a second round of tickets were made available last month, buyers swarmed with such frenzy that they crashed the AMC Theatres app.
In Los Angeles, home base for cinephiles of every stripe, scoring one of these coveted opening weekend tickets was particularly challenging. Much of the excitement revolved around the fact that “The Odyssey” was the first feature shot entirely on Imax 70mm film, a technical achievement that involved the invention of a new camera.
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Want to see The Odyssey in 70mm but couldn’t get tickets? Glendale’s historic The Alex Theatre has you covered.
For 28-year-old Van Nuys resident Chase Stanley, who tried and failed to secure a ticket, that milestone was top of mind.
“Ultimately, I’m just jealous that I’m not included,” he said. “Since it’s the first movie to capture the whole thing in 70mm Imax, it’s my due diligence to see it like that.”
Despite the enthusiasm from moviegoers, film projection has been considered a dying art since most movie theaters worldwide switched to digital projection in the early 2010s.
More than a marketing tactic, the scarcity of tickets for Imax 70mm screenings underscored both the dearth of theaters capable of projecting films in the premium large format — only 41 — and projectionists with the requisite skills.
A number of renowned directors, including “The Odyssey’s” Christopher Nolan, prefer to shoot on film and strongly encourage analog viewing. But because few theaters own the necessary equipment or employ full-time projectionists, coordinating a release as massive as “The Odyssey” is its own arduous journey.
Jimmy Gonzales is Cepheus, left, Matt Damon is Odysseus and Himesh Patel is Eurylochus in “The Odyssey.”
(Melinda Sue Gordon / Universal Pictures)
Venues new and old
There are 25 theaters in the United States showing “The Odyssey” in Imax 70mm, eight of which are located in California. One of L.A.’s favorites is the Universal Cinema AMC at CityWalk Hollywood, where veteran Imax projectionist Taylor Umphenour has worked for the last three years.
On his Instagram page, Umphenour shares “projectionist POV” photos and videos with more than 22,000 followers, giving them a unique glimpse into the projection booth for movies like “Sinners,” “One Battle After Another” and “Project Hail Mary.” His company, Film Leader Co., supervises film restorations and runs technical operations for a smattering of cinema houses across the country.
In addition to his work at CityWalk, Umphenour has been busy for weeks overhauling the projection setup at the historic Alex Theatre in Glendale.
Releases such as “The Odyssey” have renewed interest in film projectionists and specialty theaters, including the historic Alex Theatre.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
The 100-year-old venue opened in 1925 as a vaudeville and silent movie house where Walt Disney previewed his animated shorts, but it changed identities many times over the course of its history. Now, Umphenour and his team are working with Miles Williams, the theater’s artistic director, to transform it into a “premier cinema house” in time for “The Odyssey’s” release. It marks the first time the theater has been used for a first-run film release since “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” in 1991.
“What better opportunity to relaunch this venue than to open with Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Odyssey’? That’s why this project is on such a tight turn,” Umphenour said.
His team built an entirely new, massive booth in just three weeks to house sound equipment and projectors capable of running both 35mm and 70mm film. To secure the Alex a last-minute 70mm print of “The Odyssey” — which costs tens of thousands of dollars to manufacture, ship and distribute and runs about four miles long — Umphenour relied on his relationship with distribution executives at Universal.
The Alex will screen the movie in 70mm, which uses the same film stock as Imax 70mm but runs vertically instead of horizontally, making each physical frame roughly three times smaller than its Imax counterpart. Audiences seeking the larger-than-life Imax experience will have to look elsewhere — like CityWalk — but Umphenour believes that analog screenings will still draw a crowd.
“What’s special about these — about running on film, about running 70mm, about handling premium large formats — is that it does remind people how much they love going to the movies,” he said.
“What it’s all about is expanding that sense of scope and horizon, the analog color, that sense of immersion.”
Not a job for ‘popcorn projectionists’
In advance of “The Odyssey’s” release, Imax contracted 130 experienced projectionists and required each to attend an intensive, weeklong training program.
“I’ve said for years that the projectionist is the last performer in a long chain of people that started with an idea,” Umphenour said. “They are the final person to deliver the vision of the filmmakers to the audience, and therefore, one of the most crucial.” Far from simply pressing a button, film projectionists must actively guide a screening, threading and splicing reels and closely monitoring for mechanical issues.
But thanks in large part to the dwindling number of theaters projecting analog film since 2013, finding capable, actively working projectionists for releases like “The Odyssey” can be a struggle.
Sean McKinnon, director of specialty presentations and AV integration at Boston Light and Sound, is in charge of hiring these projectionists for about 60 venues across the country screening “The Odyssey” in 70mm. He did the same for “Oppenheimer” in 2023, which had the longest theatrical window of the year.
“It was pretty challenging finding people for ‘Oppenheimer,’ especially because the film was so amazing, it was in theaters for so long,” he said of the 122-day release. Staffing projectionists for “The Odyssey” has been “definitely easier,” he said, as the “word has gotten out.”
The talent pool McKinnon pulls from includes theater managers, retired projectionists, trainees from specialized college programs and even workers in other professions who take PTO for the occasion.
“We get people from really all walks of life,” he said. “It’s a special event and people want to be a part of it.”
Taylor Umphenour checks the projector’s focus at the historic Alex Theatre in Glendale.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Outside of big cities, the lack of local projectionists also means McKinnon’s company has to fly people to Morrow, Ga., or Valley View, Ohio, for instance, to run the booth for the duration of a film’s run.
Leah Saint Marie, a filmmaker and former projectionist at the Vista Theatre in Los Feliz, attributed the staffing struggle to the experience and knowledge divide between hobbyists and experts.
“Training is pretty easy if you want to be what they call a ‘popcorn projectionist,’” she said. They “can thread the movie and push start, but if there are any mechanical issues, they can’t fix it.”
“I don’t think anybody who’s going to run a 70mm Imax are popcorn projectionists, because it’s very technical,” she added. Each Imax film print of “The Odyssey” is 11 miles long and weighs roughly 600 pounds.
The most recent data from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics estimated that in 2023, there were 2,610 motion picture projectionists employed in the U.S. — an increase from 1,900 in 2022. In 2012, the BLS estimated roughly 8,000 projectionists and predicted the number would decline by 26.5% in the next 10 years — but it ultimately decreased by 76%.
“If you want to maintain expertise in the field, what you want are enough [movie] theaters out there running film that somebody can try their hand at it and get better,” Umphenour said.
Why film matters
Could the overwhelming audience demand for Imax 70mm screenings translate into a resurgence of fully equipped theaters? According to Imax Chief Executive Richard Gelfond, it’s more complicated than that.
“The problem is they haven’t made new Imax film projectors in about 50 years,” Gelfond told Variety on Wednesday. “We build new projectors every day, but film projectors, using this film, it’s not practical. So we’ve got to find them and retrofit them and rebuild them, which is what we did for ‘Odyssey.’ But can all 2,000 of our theaters be film projectors? No. There’s just not that many around.”
That said, Cinemark reportedly installed Imax 70mm projectors at three of its theaters ahead of “The Odyssey’s” release, and there are 11 more theaters projecting “The Odyssey” in Imax 70mm than there were for “Oppenheimer.”
Cinema engineer Justin Dennis is working with projectionist and production manager Taylor Umphenour to build a new projection booth capable of running both 35mm and 70mm film at the Alex Theatre.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Saint Marie recalled working as a projectionist in Pennsylvania during the period when most theaters transitioned from film to digital. While training at a new theater, she was surprised to find an old film projector still stored in the booth, and even more surprised to learn it was for Nolan’s sake.
“When he releases a [movie] on film, we have to have the projector. A lot of places around the United States kept their projectors specifically for Nolan,” she said.
Nolan isn’t the only director with an affinity for large format film and analog media. Quentin Tarantino, Paul Thomas Anderson and Ryan Coogler (whose 2025 hit “Sinners” made quite a splash in Imax 70mm) are others associated with what Umphenour dubbed “the 70mm renaissance.”
According to Saint Marie, theaters worldwide transitioned from film to digital projection mainly because the cost of shipping a Digital Cinema Package is much cheaper than shipping a film release print. But the community of skilled laborers and enthusiastic audiences who champion analog projection say it’s worth it.
“I think there’s something to be said about what film gives you as an artistic community, versus what digital gives you is just consuming as a capitalistic society,” Saint Marie said. To McKinnon, it comes down to the “tradition of humans telling a story by flickering light” harking back to prehistoric times.
For Umphenour, the story of “The Odyssey’s” release and all of the 70mm fanfare is one of preservationists triumphing over countless obstacles.
“There are 70mm theaters running this film throughout the world that, frankly, have been kept alive through the deep devotion of people who care about this format,” Umphenour said. “They really do deserve to be celebrated because, like so many things in life, if you don’t have people that care about it, you don’t end up with a thing.”
“The results of all this work are not images projected on screen,” he continued. “It’s a community brought together to hear a story well told, which allows them to create a life memory they get to carry forward for years and years.”
Film projection takes center stage at the Alex Theatre.
This article contains many spoilers for “Heartstopper Forever.”
In the early minutes of “Heartstopper Forever” — the feature film finale of Netflix’s hit teen romantic dramedy series — Charlie Spring (Joe Locke) notices a crooked photo strip on his boyfriend Nick Nelson’s (Kit Connor) bedroom wall. Gently pulling down the pictures, taken on the beach day they made their relationship official, Charlie smiles wistfully at their younger selves: “We look like babies.”
It’s a line that applies to the characters as much as it does to Locke and Connor. Four years after being catapulted into global stardom, the pair are bidding a bittersweet farewell to the roles that have defined their own coming of age.
“Season 1 does feel like an immensely long time ago that I do look back and think, ‘Yeah, we do look like babies,’” Connor says, with Locke nodding in agreement next to him on a recent video call from London. “‘Heartstopper’ itself was this tiny little show that was clearly something quite special to us, but we didn’t really think or know anyone was going to watch. And, suddenly, it became this thing that was immensely important to a lot of people.”
Adapted by Alice Oseman from her own bestselling graphic novels, which originated as a webcomic in 2016, “Heartstopper” chronicles the endearing love story between high-strung, gay overthinker Charlie and kind-hearted, bisexual rugby player Nick at an all-boys’ school in England.
Nick (Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke) in a scene from Season 1 of “Heartstopper.”
(Netflix)
Upon its debut in 2022, the show was lauded for its unabashedly joyful, tender portrayal of queer youth — a refreshing departure from the trauma-heavy narratives that dominate other teen dramas. Even as “Heartstopper” ventured into darker thematic territory, such as Charlie’s history of eating disorders and struggles with self-harm, Oseman’s writing never lost its deft, light touch.
From the outset, Oseman knew she wanted to end “Heartstopper” with Nick going off to university in Leeds and Charlie, who is a year younger, finding independence as head boy at school. But with her cast growing increasingly more in demand every year, the author-turned-screenwriter says it would have been logistically difficult to make a fourth and final season.
After Netflix greenlit a two-hour finale instead, Oseman elected to zero in on her protagonists — not unlike her comics — rather than give each character their own, heavily condensed arc. “I think that was definitely the right decision, because we really get to spend a lot of time with Nick and Charlie and not feel like we’re missing anything,” she says.
Directed by Wash Westmoreland (“Colette,” “Still Alice”), “Forever” finds the first loves grappling with the reality of an impending long-distance relationship, leading to a rash breakup and, ultimately, an emotional reconciliation. In a surprising role reversal, as Charlie confidently steps into a leadership role as an advocate for other LGBTQ+ students, Nick is left to discover his own identity and self-worth outside of being the protective, supportive boyfriend.
On the set of “Heartstopper Forever” as Connor and Locke film a scene from the movie.
(Samuel Dore / Netflix)
Connor, who also executive produced the film with Locke, felt Charlie and Nick’s romance would be better wrapped up in a feature-length format. “There were a few very important and crucial, but short and intense [plot points] — the breakup and the time apart, and the eventual makeup and the two of them discovering who they are without one another,” he explains. “Doing it in a shorter period, I thought, would make those things hit that much harder and feel that much more visceral.”
Unlike previous seasons in which she could rely on her existing comics as storyboards for the show, Oseman was working simultaneously last year on the sixth and final volume of the “Heartstopper” comics, released earlier this month, and the “Forever” screenplay.
Juggling the same story in two different formats turned out to benefit each end product. “When I finished writing the first draft of the script, it actually made me do a really big rewrite of the comic, because it helped me see which moments were really important and which moments didn’t need to be there,” she says. (One of the pivotal scenes was the Pride parade, filmed on the last morning of production.)
As first-time producers, Locke and Connor also provided script notes that directly influenced the story. For instance, “there was no scene between Charlie and Mr. Ajayi in the original script,” says Locke, referring to the gay art teacher, played by Fisayo Akinade, whose classroom became Charlie’s safe haven from bullying before he befriended Nick. “I was like, ‘That scene in Season 1 with them is so pivotal to the story. It would be really lovely to have just a little moment for them in the film that circles on that chapter of their relationship.’ And straight away, Alice was like, ‘Yeah, great idea. Let’s do this.’”
For his part, Connor always feared that the show’s “rose-tinted” approach, though part of the story’s appeal, “would not be nuanced enough to talk about the complexities of being human and being young.”
Locke says he proposed a scene with Fisayo Akinade, who plays art teacher Mr. Ajayi, as a way to circle back on their relationship.
(Netflix)
“There was one moment where I was like, ‘Oh God, I hope these young people watching “Heartstopper” don’t suddenly forget that these kids are human, and that these kids can make mistakes and still be lovely, delightful and good people,’” Connor says. With Oseman and Locke, Connor was adamant about “finding the place [where] these characters were being treated in a way that we all felt good about.”
According to Oseman, Locke and Connor were also heavily involved in selecting a new intimacy coordinator, Robbie Taylor Hunt. Over the years, the amount of sex — or lack thereof — in “Heartstopper” has been the subject of much discourse. “It always annoyed me slightly that people were like, ‘Oh, this is so unrealistic. They’re not having sex.’ They were underage. What do you want us to do?” Locke says with a wry laugh.
Oseman has learned to tune out that online chatter, accepting that she cannot please everyone — let alone represent the entire spectrum of the young queer experience. With each season and now this film, her creative team chose to age up the story slightly. After Charlie and Nick lost their virginity to each other at the end of Season 3, the film uses physical intimacy to reveal more about their maturing relationship.
Locke says those scenes were necessary to the plot. “The pier sex scene is this carnal lust between these two people who need to get it out. The sex scene in the pillow fort is a moment of connection for them,” he says. “And the big sex scene at the end of the film is the reconciliation of their relationship.”
In the end, Nick and Charlie decide to give their relationship another shot, confident that their love can defy the conventional wisdom that teen romances rarely last. But what they learn during their split is “that you can’t put all of your hopes and dreams, your mental health and your ability to survive into one person, because it’s not fair on yourself and on that other person,” Connor says.
Over the years, the amount of sex, or lack of it, in “Heartstopper” has been the subject of online discourse. The film shows more physical intimacy.
(Netflix)
The film’s epilogue, like in the comics, offers a brief glimpse of Charlie visiting Nick for a weekend in Leeds, ending with the two of them looking through the pages of a scrapbook that still has room for new photos. While Oseman has her own vision of Nick and Charlie’s future in 10 years — they’d be newly married with a dog, she believes — the actors who play them aren’t so sure.
“I feel like the beauty of ‘Heartstopper’ is that we get to see a chapter of these two young men’s lives, and it ends in a way that doesn’t promise anything,” Connor says. “Even if they were to not end up together eventually, it wouldn’t make the experience that they shared together any less special or pivotal to who they are as people. I think that’s kind of beautiful.”
Locke is reluctant to divulge his own interpretation of the characters’ future, preferring instead to let viewers make sense of the hopeful ending. “I hope they’re happy,” he says simply. (But for the record, the actors both believe that Charlie and Nick will stay together. “Of course, we all hope so,” Connor clarifies.)
Although she is ready to tell new stories, Oseman believes that she will be revisiting Nick and Charlie, who first appeared in her 2014 debut novel “Solitaire,” “in small ways for the rest of my life.”
“I think there definitely won’t be another 10-year-long webcomic — probably not — but I love thinking about what Nick and Charlie might be up to when they’re 40 or 60,” Oseman says. However, she adds, “I think the main story of ‘Heartstopper’ has concluded, and I do feel good about that.”
Like their high school characters, Locke and Connor are ready to graduate from the “Heartstopper” universe. Wary of being typecast, they have established themselves as versatile stage actors, making their Broadway debuts in “Sweeney Todd” and “Romeo + Juliet,” respectively. Onscreen, Locke joined the Marvel universe in “Agatha All Along,” while Connor has explored vastly different cinematic genres — his next major project, the film adaptation of the dark fantasy video game “Elden Ring,” will reunite him with “Warfare” director Alex Garland.
Even on the day of our interview, Connor and Locke looked a world away from Nick and Charlie. Locke wore an all-black designer outfit, while Connor — dressed in a light blue striped button-down over a white tank and khakis — had traded Nick’s signature floppy hair for designer stubble. Yet both actors have made peace with the reality that they will forever be linked to each other and their roles. “That’s part and parcel of the job,” Connor says.
Fittingly, the last scene Connor and Locke filmed as Nick and Charlie was the anniversary scene in the park where there is a fallen tree with the letters “N+C” carved into the trunk. “It was lovely because it was back to how a lot of the ‘Heartstopper’ experience has been, which is just me and Joe,” Connor says.
“I love thinking about what Nick and Charlie might be up to when they’re 40 or 60,” says creator Alice Oseman. However, she adds, “I think the main story of ‘Heartstopper’ has concluded, and I do feel good about that.”
(Netflix)
Would they be open to revisiting Charlie and Nick’s love story as older adults? “In 10, 15, 20 years, who knows? Maybe,” Connor says. “Even if Alice were to decide that they wanted to make a TV show about another character in the universe of ‘Heartstopper’ and they wanted us to cameo or something, then, hey, maybe.”
While the “Heartstopper” team expected the series to resonate with younger audiences, they have been particularly moved by the reactions of older queer viewers, who have marveled at the strides in LGBTQ+ representation onscreen. Coming from the world of young-adult fiction — where she notes stories of queer joy are abundant — Oseman recalls being surprised that “Heartstopper” was treated as an anomaly in mainstream media. Still, she is proud to have helped move the needle on LGBTQ+ representation, particularly when such characters remain underrepresented.
“My hope is that people will be able to look back … and say, ‘Hey, “Heartstopper” did really well. Let’s make another queer show that’s got the [same] ‘queer joy’ vibes,’” Oseman says. “I hope it’s been able to give that encouragement to the people in power to let there be more stories out there because we just need more, different kinds of queer stories.”
Connor believes that anyone can enjoy the show because “Heartstopper” simply captures the universality of “human beings being happy and being in love.”
“Obviously, the [queer] representation is incredibly important. I think that the very existence of the show and the comfort and safety that it can bring people is one of the things that makes it so special,” Connor says. And the demand for such stories “isn’t going to change,” he adds. “Queer people are always going to exist.”
Film’s story is of Odysseus (Matt Damon) and his quest to return to his homelandMatt Damon alongside Zendaya, who plays AthenaCredit: Universal Studios/Melinda Sue Gordon. All Rights Reserved
NO need for theme parks this summer, this is a film that will leave you feeling as though you have ridden the highest rollercoaster.
Sir Christopher Nolan’s epic is an all-action, mythical nightmare to behold.
It’s a monumental piece of work, which rarely even feels like a film — more a spectacle to be watched in awe and amazement.
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The Ancient Greek poem of the same title, written thousands of years ago, has been retold countless times over the centuries. But never to this scale.
The story is of Odysseus (Matt Damon) and his quest to return to his homeland.
He is the King of Ithaca and the mastermind behind the Trojan Horse trick that ended the war.
His long journey back to his kingdom is to reunite with his wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), and son, Telemachus (Tom Holland).
They have been waiting for his return for 20 years, and Penelope has many more than 100 suitors ready to take up residency in the royal palace.
They spend their evenings eating the food and drinking the wine of their hostess, while plotting what they will do when she marries them.
Robert Pattinson plays AntinousCredit: Universal Studios/Melinda Sue Gordon. All Rights ReservedPenelope (Anne Hathaway) and son Telemachus (Tom Holland)Credit: Alamy Stock Photo
One is Antinous (Robert Pattinson), a snarly, devious man who can barely hide his contempt for the family but longs for their power.
Stories run alongside this one, showing Odysseus lost on the island of Ogygia, eating lotus flowers with only the nymph Calypso (Charlize Theron) for company.
She tries to get his memories from him, and he retells the journey he took to get washed up there.
It includes battles, terrifying gods, curses, hauntings, a witch (Samantha Morton) who loves to feed her prey and Zendaya as Athena.
Each tale feels like a film in itself and alongside adrenalin-spiking action, there is a lot of heart.
The basis of the story is love, protection and the attempt to right wrongs.
Damon is spectacular in a role that must have pushed him to his limits physically. While being part of huge battle sequences, he is able to show a range of emotions on his face.
The standout performance has to be Pattinson, who as the hateful Antinous, manages to curl his lip to perfection.
Don’t let the nearly three-hour run time put you off.
Like any great ride, the moment it is over, you want it to start all over again.
A CLOSE SHAVE
(U) 30mins
★★★★★
The Wallace and Gromit films have been given national cinema release for a whole new generation to enjoy
IT’S been more than three decades since Nick Park made us all fall for a cheese-loving bachelor and his silent inventor dog.
And to mark the 50th anniversary of Aardman, the world-famous Bristol-based stop-motion and clay animation studios behind Wallace and Gromit, the films have been given national cinema release for a whole new generation to enjoy.
In this tale, from 1995, Wallace (Peter Sallis) and Gromit are running a high-tech window-cleaning service, which introduces them to wool shop owner Wendolene Ramsbottom (Anne Reid) and her evil-genius dog, Preston.
Thanks to his new canine enemy, Gromit is jailed for crimes he didn’t commit. With the help of his clumsy buddy – who is infatuated with Wendolene – he works to clear his name. Film fans will love the parody of prison movies, and there’s an impressive, climactic cheese scene.
Having won the Oscar for Best Animated Short Film and introducing the character of Shaun the Sheep – who went on to have his own TV spin-off series – this really is a delight to watch again. Brilliantly funny, with enough jeopardy and action to keep you hooked.
HEARTSTOPPER FOREVER
(15) 114mins
★★☆☆☆
Nick (Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke)Credit: Samuel Dore/Netflix All Rights Reserved
AFTER three series of the incredibly successful coming-of-age Netflix drama, the story of the much-loved schoolboy couple, Nick and Charlie, is coming to an end.
This feature-film finale shows Nick (Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke) are still very much in love.
In fact, they’re obsessively infatuated. At every party they stare at each other across the dance floor. They take selfies every few minutes and all their friends fawn over how they’re the best couple ever.
But Charlie is off to university soon and newly crowned head boy Nick has another year at school. So this throws their relationship into a very mediocre level of disarray.
They go back and forth over what they’re going to do, with high levels of self-inflicted angst and many moments that feel excruciatingly cringey.
Meanwhile, their tight-knit friendship group seem to chat exclusively about their own complicated sexualities.
Written by Alice Oseman and produced by Brett Thomas, the fondness for this couple feels like it can’t forgive the incredibly lame storyline that offers little to no jeopardy.
Netflix viewers meet grown-up versions of Charlie and Nick in Heartstopper Forever
22:14, 16 Jul 2026Updated 22:15, 16 Jul 2026
Netflix’s Heartstopper has returned with a final feature-length film (Image: Netflix )
Heartstopper fans should prepare for more steamy scenes in the new Netflix film.
The young adult show returns with one final chapter called Heartstopper Forever tomorrow (July 17), which sees Joe Locke and Kit Connor reprising their roles as Charlie Spring and Nick Nelson.
As well as a new challenge, though, fans will notice that Charlie and Nick are more intimate in the new film than in previous seasons.
When asked about the final chapter featuring “a lot more sex,” Connor told The Guardian: “It’s a line that you have to walk: ‘How far are we going to take this?'”
He went on to explain that the inclusion reflected a natural progression in the characters’ romance.
“But at the end of the day, it did feel like these two guys are really attracted to each other at the age where they probably would have been doing it,” Connor added.
Locke agreed, explaining: “It would be weird if we hadn’t shown it. Just because our show is a more earnest version of a queer representation doesn’t mean that sex [shouldn’t be shown]. It’s still a big thing for anyone in the world.”
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The new coming-of-age drama includes traditional sex scenes as well as segments depicting masturbation, which is pretty standard for the genre.
However, Heartstopper has previously centred on the less-explicit elements of young queer relationships.
The actors were actually eager to push the envelope even further with their characters, Connor revealed.
He said: “If I’d had my way, I would have had Nick and Charlie cheating on each other and doing all those stupid things.
“Because young people do that and don’t necessarily need to be villainised for it. Heartstopper Forever takes a step in that direction of not being so rose-tinted about being human.”
Heartstopper Forever premieres on Netflix this Friday, July 17.
“Remake” has a tragic tale to tell and director Ross McElwee wastes no time revealing its grieving heart. Near the start of this funereal documentary, the filmmaker addresses his subject directly: “It’s been seven years since you died,” he says to his late son Adrian through voice-over, “and I still miss you every day.”
Across McElwee’s 50-year career, he has worked intimately without a crew to make sense of his own life by diligently recording it. In the process, he turned his friends and loved ones into the unlikely stars of his acclaimed independent documentaries.
With “Remake,” he looks back at that footage, concentrating on the images he shot of Adrian since his birth in 1989. Adrian died on Christmas Eve 2016 of a drug overdose and McElwee clearly remains shattered. For a documentarian who specializes in personal movies, “Remake” feels especially revealing — both in terms of the glimpses we get of this father-son relationship and of unsolved mysteries that linger just outside the frame.
The film’s title ostensibly refers to a surprising phone call McElwee received about 20 years ago, when he was approached by Steve Carr, the director of broad comedies like “Paul Blart: Mall Cop,” who was eager to adapt McElwee’s 1986 documentary “Sherman’s March” into a movie. That landmark picture features McElwee, then in his mid-30s, as he tries to chronicle the exploits of Union Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman, who laid siege to the South during the Civil War. Except, in the midst of that project, McElwee’s focus shifts, delightfully, to his disastrous love life and the fascinating women he meets in his travels, becoming a deeply humane examination of modern courtship.
Carr doesn’t seem like an obvious choice to oversee a narrative remake, but McElwee decides to sell him the rights anyway. Soon in “Remake,” though, it becomes apparent that this is just one chapter of the story — and hardly the most essential. McElwee’s last film, 2011’s “Photographic Memory,” dealt with his increasingly frayed connection to Adrian, who was already fighting substance-abuse issues. “Remake” retraces Adrian’s childhood while filling in the details of the director’s life after “Photographic Memory,” including brain surgery and the dissolution of his 24-year marriage.
But Adrian is never far from his thoughts or absent from the screen: this smiling, happy boy slowly transforming into an edgy, troubled young man whose sweetness still occasionally shines through.
The passage of time is central to McElwee’s work, but he’s rarely scrutinized the topic as aggressively as he does here. It’s not simply that we watch Adrian age or revisit some of McElwee’s “Sherman’s March” subjects. (“Sherman’s March” is now screening in a new 4K restoration at the Laemmle Royal with “Remake.”) It’s also in the way that McElwee’s formerly wry narration now sounds far more resigned, his voice grown froggy and hushed as he nears 80. McElwee has often pondered the downside of essentially treating himself like a human camera, observing the world rather than fully engaging in it. But in “Remake,” he openly questions his artistic approach and, fittingly, he lets his son be his loudest critic.
As a boy, Adrian is enchanted by McElwee’s filming. In childhood, he paints an abstract picture of God in which the Almighty eerily resembles a movie camera. But although Adrian soon picks up a camera as well, increasingly interested in being a filmmaker himself, he resents how his father intrudes on their time together by constantly shooting their conversations. McElwee’s scenes of them at the Venice Film Festival for the “Photographic Memory” premiere are especially fraught, Adrian’s prickly reaction to a movie about his drug abuse creating tension between the two men at the subsequent press conference.
In “Remake,” McElwee laments that he didn’t do enough to help him navigate addiction and the mental-health issues that exacerbated it. (Adrian was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.) Was McElwee too consumed with his own career to be there for his son? The question haunts “Remake” — he includes an indelible sequence from “Sherman’s March” in which his longtime friend Charleen upbraids him for always having the camera out. “This isn’t art,” she hollers. “This is life!” Did McElwee never come to appreciate the difference?
A eulogy that also serves as an apology, a reckoning and a confession, “Remake” is filled with moments that are crushing because of how understated they are, none more brutal than when McElwee visits Adrian near the end of his life, when he’d moved to Colorado to get a fresh start. “He seemed to be doing OK,” McElwee recalls thinking. “But I always leave knowing I’m probably not seeing the whole picture.”
Even now, poring through his footage, desperately looking for clues, McElwee pines for that larger view — the one that might somehow bring the boy back to his inconsolable father.
The industry saw immediately just how lucrative fear could be. More than a century later, there is always someone in the entertainment media willing to trade in racist tropes for money, as well as an audience ready to receive them.
Two new films, “Citizen Vigilante” and “Run, Fight, Hide: Infidels,” demonstrate that streaming platforms and social media no longer simply distribute controversial content but in fact thrive on content that provokes, polarizes and sustains attention, regardless of the social cost.
Both of these xenophobic and Islamophobic films are being pushed as “anti-woke” vehicles, deliberately engineered to bypass traditional critical reception and capitalize on a fractured media ecosystem. “Citizen Vigilante,” which features an American protagonist killing dark-skinned immigrants and Muslims in an unnamed European setting, was denied a rating certificate by the German government for inciting violence. Yet despite that determination, the film secured global reach through decentralized digital distribution and high-profile promotion from Elon Musk.
Similarly, “Run, Fight, Hide: Infidels” — a campus siege narrative evoking 1980s action film nostalgia that leans heavily into outdated, post-9/11 anxieties — relies on a built-in conservative media apparatus to guarantee financial returns. The film is produced by the conservative media figure Ben Shapiro and the Daily Wire, which he co-founded. It is a sequel to a 2020 film that was their film company’s premiere.
But while promoters of such films frame their work as a brave rebellion, the reality is much more sinister: rehashing 40-year-old tropes while invoking conspiracy theories of Muslims bringing sharia law to America, because outrage is cheap to produce and easy to monetize.
Stories matter. Stories shape how we see one another. They influence what we love, what we celebrate, whom we trust, whom we understand and whom we fear.
Since January, the Muslim Public Affairs Council has documented a sharp escalation in threats and attacks targeting Muslims and Islamic institutions across the United States, including vandalism, shootings, bomb threats, attempted assassinations and physical assaults. These are not isolated incidents. They reflect a broader climate in which dehumanizing representation increasingly manifests as real-world violence.
Entertainment and politics increasingly employ the same tactic as one another, recycling narratives of fear and “otherness” to mobilize audiences, voters and consumers. When political leaders encourage those narratives, as President Trump recently did by amplifying and commenting on a photo of young Muslim American students in hijab, they further normalize the same stereotypes that entertainment companies have learned to monetize.
Yet while the social costs continue to mount, the economic incentives remain firmly intact. “Citizen Vigilante” earned a 93% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes despite receiving just a 6% critics’ score. More tellingly, it quickly climbed to the top of Amazon’s and Apple TV’s paid video-on-demand charts.
And this isn’t just a Muslim and immigrant issue — and it’s not only about who is portrayed on screens, but also who is not. Representation has been backsliding, and audiences are left with fewer opportunities to see the reality and humanity of diverse communities, making them more vulnerable to fear-based narratives.
According to a 2026 report from the nonprofit Define American, which tracks representation across television and film, Latinos account for only 23% of immigrant characters represented on screen, even though they make up more than 40% of the immigrant population in the United States. In 2020, 50% of immigrants on screen were Latino.
The industry’s defense is that whitewashed and xenophobic films reflect audience demand. But the recent research by Define American challenges this assumption. Data show that nuanced, multidimensional storytelling, in which immigrants and minority characters are woven into the fabric of everyday narratives rather than tokenized or villainized, actually leads to greater audience engagement and deeper systemic understanding.
Entertainment doesn’t simply reflect culture; it teaches us who belongs within it. Studios, distributors, streaming platforms and filmmakers all have a responsibility to reject narratives that portray immigrants as enemies and instead embrace stories that reflect the diversity and complexity of our world. At the same time — as with voters — the power ultimately rests with consumers. The choice to demand storytelling that challenges prejudice rather than profits from it belongs to all of us.
Actor Sam Neill expressed a simple wish for his legacy nearly a year before he died at age 78.
The New Zealand star beloved for his leading role in the “Jurassic Park” films said in an August 2025 interview with The Telegraph, published Wednesday, that he wanted to be remembered for his kindness. Neill, reminiscing on mortality, said this wish was inspired by a painting he owned by Helena Bonham Carter’s mother, Elena Propper de Callejón.
“It is a very sweet watercolor of a funny old thing in a flowery dress and bonnet,” Neill said of the artwork. “At the bottom of the painting is an inscription: ‘But she was kind…’ When I am no longer about, I hope someone will be able to say that about me.”
Neill died suddenly Monday in Sydney, his family confirmed on Instagram.
The actor announced in April that he was in remission after five years of living with cancer due to a new cancer therapy. He battled Stage 3 angioimmunoblastic T-cell lymphoma, a rare and aggressive type of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Neill was in remission at the time of his conversation with The Telegraph.
After news of Neill’s death spread, his collaborators remembered him for his talent and his kindness — just as he had hoped. Laura Dern, who played Dr. Ellie Sattler opposite Neill’s Dr. Alan Grant in Steven Spielberg’s “Jurassic Park,” wrote, Neill “showed me the depths of loyalty, protectiveness and love always with the driest of wit.”
She continued: “He was a true and noble gentleman, wrapped up in my dream leading man. I will love you forever, Dr. Alan Grant.”
His “Peaky Blinders” co-star Cillian Murphy remembered Neill as “one of the kindest, funniest and gentlest people, and one of the finest actors,” while Nicole Kidman celebrated Neill as “one of the greats.”
Neill appeared in about 150 film and TV productions throughout his career. His notable credits include films “The Hunt for Red October,” “The Piano” and “Evil Angels” and shows “The Tudors” and “Apples Never Fall.”
For The Telegraph, Neill also discussed his humble upbringing, how he felt his acting career had been a “complete fluke” and his perspective on life amid his cancer battle.
“I have had the odd brush with cancer, so every day is a bonus these days,” he explained. “Life lesson: never take a single day for granted.”
Artist Vija Celmins and filmmaker Denis Villeneuve will be honored at Los Angeles County Museum of Art’s upcoming Art + Film Gala, the first to be hosted after the spring opening of LACMA’s new David Geffen Galleries.
Now in its 15th year, the glitzy annual event co-hosted by Eva Chow and Leonardo DiCaprio is set to take place Nov. 7. If the museum follows the blueprint it implemented with its Geffen Galleries opening party, the evening’s festivities will unfold in a posh tent beside the new building with a cocktail hour at the base of Peter Zumthor’s concrete creation.
With LACMA still in the international limelight, this year’s Art + Film gala is poised to be its most high-profile yet, enabling it to further its mission of creating connections between the city’s thriving arts and cinema ecosystems. Celmins and Villeneuve certainly live up to the hype. The former, 87, is a pioneer in photo-realistic paintings of natural settings and objects; the latter is an Oscar-nominated director and filmmaker whose projects include the “Dune” movies as well as the upcoming James Bond film for Amazon MGM Studios.
“This year, we are honoring two icons of visual creativity. Whether in painting, drawing, printmaking or other media, Vija Celmins’ exacting renderings of the natural world blend realism and imagination, resulting in sublimely beautiful works,” Michael Govan, LACMA’s director and chief executive, said in a news release. “Likewise, Denis Villeneuve’s meticulously crafted worlds give his films an unforgettable visual impact, from contemplative and cerebral stories to global blockbusters. It will be a privilege for LACMA to honor both of these artists and their extraordinary careers in November.”
Over the years LACMA’s Art + Film Gala has featured a high-profile list of respected artists and filmmakers, including Simone Leigh, Baz Luhrmann, Judy Baca, David Fincher, Helen Pashgian, Park Chan-wook, Amy Sherald, Kehinde Wiley, Steven Spielberg, Betye Saar, Alfonso Cuarón, Catherine Opie and Guillermo del Toro.
Last year’s event, held in honor of Mary Corse and Ryan Coogler, netted a record $6.5 million in support of the museum and its programs.
Rarely would Sam Neill, who died Monday, carry a film on his own, but what he did in several of them, modestly and dependably, was equally as important. His nuanced supporting work allowed some of the greatest actresses of their moment attain their first fireworks. And even though he starred in one of Hollywood’s hugest blockbusters, it takes a certain kind of confidence to share the spotlight with a dinosaur. Here are Neill’s highlights, all worth rewatching for the sake of better appreciating a sophisticated presence often on the sidelines.
‘My Brilliant Career’ (1979)
Sam Neill and Judy Davis in the movie “My Brilliant Career.”
(Michael Ochs Archives / Getty Images)
Gillian Armstrong’s first feature is a landmark of the Australian New Wave and feminist cinema, signaling the arrival of the great Judy Davis and containing the most erotically charged (and quite possibly the longest) pillow fight in movie history. It works splendidly for countless reasons, not the least of which is Neill’s presence as the charming suitor of Davis’ headstrong heroine. Set in 1897 in rural Australia, the film follows Davis’ Sybylla, who dreams of becoming a writer, an unconventional aspiration given her family’s poverty and societal norms. Then she meets a wealthy charmer, played by Neill, and he proposes. It should be an easy decision, particularly since Sybylla loves him and Neill makes him so irresistible. That Sybylla does, in fact, resist, choosing independence over love and the possibility of perennial pillow fights, makes “My Brilliant Career” so daring and thrilling. — Glenn Whipp
‘Possession’ (1981)
Isabelle Adjani and Sam Neill in the movie “Possession.”
(Metrograph Pictures)
It’s being remade with Margaret Qualley and the main reason for the movie’s notoriety remains Isabelle Adjani’s unhinged, incantatory performance, a collection of freak-outs that’s still unmatched. But one can argue that Adjani couldn’t have gotten there without the slightly milquetoast banality of her character’s husband, played by Neill as one of the least exciting on-screen spies of the 1980s. (She’s already cheating on him when the movie begins.) He doesn’t seem cut out to be a family man either, but Neill’s cuckolded complaining, hard to pull off this confidently, may be what’s driving her to self-harm in the first place. — Joshua Rothkopf
‘The Final Conflict’ (1981)
More than a decade before his “Jurassic Park” role, Neill delivered a chilling turn as the Antichrist in “The Final Conflict,” better known as the third film in “The Omen” franchise, about a couple that unwittingly adopts the son of Satan. In this second sequel, Neill plays an adult Damien Thorn, now a U.S ambassador to the United Kingdom who is determined to stop the second coming of Christ. With sinister smiles and steely glares, Neill makes Damien his own, waging a murderous campaign against a group of priests, his voice dripping with contempt as he vows to slay “the Nazarene” when he is born. — Greg Braxton
‘Dead Calm’ (1989)
Sam Neill and Nicole Kidman on the set of the movie “Dead Calm.”
(Michael Ochs Archives / Getty Images)
We remember Philip Noyce’s claustrophobic cat-and-mouse thriller primarily as Nicole Kidman’s big-screen breakthrough. But, and you may be noticing a theme here, the movie would not work without Neill, who had a gift for playing opposite strong-minded women. Kidman and Neill are a married couple embarking on an ocean adventure to work through the loss of their child. They happen upon a crazy-eyed stranger (Billy Zane) on a sinking schooner, take him aboard and things go south from there. Part Cary Grant, part MacGyver, Neill gives a great physical performance, which he parlayed into well-paying Hollywood action roles for the rest of his career. None came close, though, to his flare-gun theatrics here. — Glenn Whipp
‘Jurassic Park’ (1993)
You go for the dinosaurs and there’s no shame in that. But credit Neill for both understanding the assignment and not quite settling for those awed stares of Spielbergian wonder. His Alan Grant is distinct enough to register as prickly and a little inside himself. He absolutely hates children, even as the whole plot, somewhat obviously, steers him in the opposite direction. He’s not Jeff Goldblum-level rascally, but he’s confident enough to go his own way and make a killer joke at a high-voltage fence. Acting-wise, Neill has already held his own opposite several forces of nature (see above). Raptors were nothing. — Joshua Rothkopf
‘The Piano’ (1993)
Sam Neill in the move “The Piano.”
(The Criterion Collection)
So many of Neill’s most memorable movies feature him supporting the singular vision of great directors, as is the case with Jane Campion’s 1993 landmark. Neill plays the awkward, ignorant Scottish farmer who arranges for a mail-order marriage with Holly Hunter’s mute pianist and then becomes possessive and driven to jealous despair. We hate him. Which was fine by Neill, as he wrote in his 2023 memoir: “There is honour to be found in the second fiddle. Or fourth. No one notices you much, you don’t get nominated for things. But you served. I was there in an important feminist film. It’s a work of art. And look, that tiny little figure in the fabric — see down there on the right — that’s me. It’s a film that will always have a place in cinema history. And I served in it.” — Glenn Whipp
‘In the Mouth of Madness’ (1994)
Finally, a leading role. Granted it’s one in which Neill, strapped in a straitjacket, screams things like “I’m not insane!” But if you’re a fan of his brand of slightly unconvinced heroism, John Carpenter’s horror movie — about an insurance investigator on the hunt for a missing Stephen King-like author — is an enjoyable watch. Carpenter was never one to overexplain things to his actors (it’s why you find so many rich, self-directed performances in his movies) and Neill’s snoop definitely goes through the looking glass, from disbelieving cynic to true believer. Genre movies thrive on his kind of total commitment. — Joshua Rothkopf
SACHA Baron Cohen has brought back the iconic Ali G character at Wimbledon ahead of a new film.
Sacha, 54, first played faux-streetwise poseur from Staines in 1998 on The 11 O’Clock Show before landing his own series, Da Ali G Show.
Sacha Baron Cohen has returned as Ali G with an appearance at WimbledonCredit: InstagramHe wore a Wimbledon-coloured tracksuit as he took his seat in Centre CourtCredit: Twitter
Sacha last played Ali G in 2014 but at the men’s singles final at Wimbledon on Sunday, the star resurrected the character.
Sitting in Centre Court, Ali wore a Wimbledon-coloured tracksuit with the motif ‘Official Ganja Dealer’ on the back, hat, heavy gold chain and glasses, Sacha sported his alter ego‘s facial hair, and attitude.
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Ali also joined Instagram to share videos from the tournament and said: “I iz BACK!
“And if u iz at dis borin wimbledore final lookin 2 get grand slammed, I iz here wif de hookup. dm me, especially if u iz fit.”
Ali also shared posts from Wimbledon on his new Instagram pageCredit: InstagramSacha is preparing a new film as his comic creationCredit: GettyAli G first appeared in 1998 on The Eleven O’Clock ShowCredit: AF archiveThere was also an Ali G movie in 2002Credit: Alamy
He also shared a shot of a DVD of his TV series and wrote: “dm me if u want to buy one of these DVD box sets.
“Me iz got like 10,000 of dem. Dey iz very rare. Free pickup in the northwest surrey area.”
Sacha’s appearance at Wimbledon as Ali G comes as he prepares a new film for his comic creation.
More than three dozen California legislators are calling for Gov. Gavin Newsom to exempt the state’s film and TV production incentive program from a recently approved cap on corporate tax credits, warning that without action it will be “significantly kneecapped.”
Though the state’s budget has already been approved, the legislators say a solution must be devised before the end of the year so that production companies do not lose the “full value of tax credits they earned in exchange for creating middle-class entertainment industry jobs,” according to a letter dated Friday and addressed to Newsom, State Senate President Pro Tempore Monique Limón and Assembly Speaker Robert Rivas.
“Tax credits earned for creating jobs in motion picture and television production are not the same as tax credits provided for research and development,” the letter states. The legislation “creates short-term budget savings by reneging on commitments made to the entertainment industry and the working families who depend upon it for their livelihoods.”
The letter comes shortly after Newsom signed his final state budget as California’s governor, a $351.7-billion spending plan that includes new limitations on corporate tax credits.
The budget includes a provision that restricts the maximum tax credit companies can claim in a given year to $5 million or 50% of a company’s tax state tax liability, whichever is greater.
Hollywood industry representatives had warned the governor’s office that the new restrictions could affect the state’s production incentive program, which was just bolstered last year to an annual cap of $750 million.
The film and TV industry in Southern California has struggled to rebound from the effects of the pandemic, the dual writers’ and actors’ strikes in 2023 and the exodus of production to other states and countries.
Members who voted for the budget bill had believed there was a carve-out for the film and TV tax credit program, said Assemblyman Rick Chavez Zbur (D-Los Angeles), chair of the Assembly Democratic Caucus.
“I don’t think that anyone understood what this cap was, what it did and that it effectively kneecapped and reverses the progress that we made last year,” Zbur, who co-authored last year’s bill, said in an interview. “We need to have people understand that these changes, which I think people believed were minor, are really significant and will result in significant job loss if we don’t fix them.”
The new changes to the state’s film and TV tax credit program, which included expanded eligibility for additional shows and films, came after intense lobbying from studios and industry workers, who argued that more funding was necessary to lure production back from other states and countries.
Last week, the California Film Commission said the expanded tax credit program was set to deliver $6.6 billion in direct production spending in-state and more than 34,000 cast and crew jobs across the 170 total film and TV shows that received production incentives this year.
Don Iwerks, an Academy Award-winning special effects pioneer whose innovations transformed film and Disney theme parks, died peacefully Thursday at the age of 96, the Walt Disney Co. announced.
For Disney and his own studio, Iwerks Entertainment, Iwerks helped develop technologies and techniques like Circle-Vision, the 360-degree camera behind “America the Beautiful” and other early Disney attractions, and the 3-D effects used in attractions like Captain EO and the Star Tours ride.
“There was a ‘can-do’ attitude I learned from Walt and my father,” Iwerks said, according to a statement shared by the Disney Co. “Walt gave everyone a feeling that they were creating things that others had never thought of before, of being a part of history.”
Born July 24, 1929, Iwerks received his first camera at age 14 as a gift from his father, animator Ub Iwerks.
The elder Iwerks met fellow artist Walt Disney when both men were teenagers working at a Kansas City, Mo., art studio. They would go on to work together at the Disney Brothers Cartoon Studio, where Iwerks designed and animated “Plane Crazy,” the first Mickey Mouse cartoon.
After a stint at his own animation studio, Ub returned to Disney as a special effects engineer, pioneering techniques like the 360-degree motion-picture camera.
“He was absolutely my inspiration because he was technically minded. He made my childhood and formative years one of the greatest times of my life,” Don Iwerks told The Times in 1998.
The Iwerks family moved to the San Fernando Valley in 1936, where Don graduated from Van Nuys High School in 1947.
He served as a photographer in Germany during the Korean War and joined his father at Disney following his 1952 discharge from the U.S. Army. An allergic reaction to chemicals used to develop film led to his transfer to the company’s Studio Machine Shop, where he spent the next 34 years.
Don spent three months in the Bahamas manning underwater cameras for the 1954 Disney film “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.” He then worked as the camera technician on “A Tour of the West,” an original Tomorrowland attraction at the soon-to-be opened Disneyland. The immersive 360-degree film was shot on the Circarama camera system his father invented.
Together, Don and Ub developed technologies like the “endless loop” system that enabled a single film print to run for up to 10,000 performances with minimal intervention and refinements to the photography processes used in “Mary Poppins” (his favorite of the Disney films) and other movies.
His own hands were used as the model for those of the Abraham Lincoln Audio-Animatronics figure in “Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln,” which opened at Disneyland in 1965. The “Iwerks Hands” now appear on similar figures at Disney parks around the world, according to his family.
In 1986, he co-founded Iwerks Entertainment, which soon became a major player in the film and theme park industries. The company specialized in large-format films and created the 3-D projection system used in the Terminator rides at Universal Studios parks in Hollywood and Florida.
His innovations were honored with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ honorary Gordon E. Sawyer Award and an Academy Scientific and Technical Award, among other prizes.
“It’s very obvious that computers are playing a big role in motion pictures today. The digital technology in film is able to put elements of scenes together on a film and have them look lifelike. It’s hard to know where that will go,” Iwerks said in a 1998 interview.
“My view is that technology should support a good story and add to it. Technology for technology’s sake?” he said with a shrug. “You still need good films.”
Iwerks is survived by his wife of 54 years, Betty; his sons, Larry and John; John’s wife, Chris; his daughter Leslie, and great-nephew,Mike, both of whom have also worked for Disney, according to an obituary shared by his family. His daughter Tamara preceded him in death.
“Like his father, he was a humble genius, a consummate problem solver, and delighted in sharing knowledge, encouraging others, and approaching every challenge with confidence and grace,” his family said in the statement from Conejo Mountain Funeral Home in Ventura.
Both Don and Ub Iwerks are commemorated in a storefront window on Main Street U.S.A. in Disney World’s Magic Kingdom. Located above the Main Street Bakery, the window is a lasting tribute to a family who made some of the park’s magic possible.
“Iwerks-Iwerks Stereoscopic Cameras,” the lettering reads. “No Two Exactly Alike.”
Walt Disney Co.’s “Moana” lost its way at the box office this weekend as the company’s latest live-action remake opened to a sluggish $43 million in the U.S. and Canada.
The domestic haul for “Moana” underperformed studio expectations, which ranged from $60 million to $65 million. Globally, the film brought in a total of $95 million on a production budget of about $250 million.
Despite its lackluster debut, the film still came in first at the box office during a weekend where it had few new competitors in the family film space.
The “Moana” franchise has been a box-office and streaming juggernaut. The original 2016 animated movie brought in more than $643 million worldwide and is the most-watched movie on Disney+, while a 2024 sequel grossed more than $1 billion at the global box office. On the merchandise side, more than 22 million “Moana”-themed toys have been sold. “Moana” also appears in the Disney theme parks.
But the theatrical reception for the live-action film may signal that audiences think there’s been too much “Moana” in just 10 years. (The 2024 film sequel was originally set to be a streaming series before it was moved to Disney’s theatrical calendar.)
Most of Disney’s previous live-action remakes have come decades after the original animated movie, such as 2025’s “Lilo & Stitch,” which arrived 23 years after its animated predecessor and grossed more than $1 billion in worldwide box office receipts.
The theatrical haul for the latest “Moana” may also have suffered from poor reviews — the film got a 34% on aggregator Rotten Tomatoes, with several critics highlighting its nearly frame-by-frame similarity to the original film. The audience score on Rotten Tomatoes, however, was 90%.
Still, as the last of this summer’s major animated films, “Moana” could see a longer tail in theaters, particularly with many children still on break from school. Disney’s live-action “Mufasa: The Lion King” opened in 2024 to a middling $35 million, but ended up grossing more than $722 million globally through the holiday season.
Universal Pictures and Illumination’s “Minions & Monsters” came in second at the domestic box office this weekend with $20.5 million. Disney and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5” continued its strong run with an $18.5-million haul, enough for third place and contributing to a total global gross of $879.1 million.
Warner Bros.’ “Evil Dead Burn” ($13.7 million) and Angel Studios’ “Young Washington” ($6.4 million) rounded out the top five.
Also notable this weekend: Lionsgate’s musical biopic “Michael” crossed $1 billion in worldwide box office revenue, the first time that the studio has reached that milestone and the second film this year after “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” to hit that mark.
Tomi Adeyemi, the author of the bestselling fantasy “Children of Blood and Bone,” isn’t planning to see the forthcoming film adaptation — even though she co-wrote it.
Over the weekend, the Nigerian American author posted a video on TikTok addressing fans who have been asking her the same question, “Why don’t you post about the adaptation of your first film adaptation anymore?”
“There is a reason I will not post anything about the adaptation of my work,” the author wrote in what appear to be screenshots of a group chat. “I have not seen the film, and I will not watch it.”
The adaptation of the first installment of Adeyemi’s “Legacy of Orïsha” fantasy trilogy is slated to hit theaters in January 2027. Gina Prince-Bythewood — who wrote and directed “Love & Basketball” and helmed “The Woman King” — is directing. The film stars Amandla Stenberg, Thuso Mbedu, Tosin Cole, Damson Idris, Cynthia Erivo, Lashana Lynch, Regina King, Idris Elba, Chiwetel Ejiofor and Viola Davis.
Alongside the screenshots of her comments in the group chat, she shared a February 2025 exchange with Stenberg that shows the author severing ties with the actor.
Adeyemi shared only her final message to Stenberg, which reads, “Do not ever use my name in an interview or video again. Do not text me. Do not call me.” That exchange is followed by a notification that she blocked Stenberg, who plays Princess Amari in the upcoming fantasy flick.
The message from Stenberg that preceded Adeyemi’s reply is not shown in full.
Stenberg, who played Rue in “Hunger Games,” Starr Carter in “The Hate U Give” and, recently, Verosha “Osha” Aniseya and Mae-ho “Mae” Aniseya in Disney’s “Star Wars” series “The Acolyte,” had been getting flack from readers of the series, who claimed colorism was an issue while casting the movie.
In February 2025, Stenberg posted a since-deleted nine-minute TikTok addressing the controversy and told followers that Adeyemi had given the actor her blessing when cast as the series’ princess.
“I am four months into training for ‘Children of Blood and Bone’ and I am getting my ass whooped,” Stenberg joked in the video, per BET.
“This year was mostly defined for me, honestly, by contending with what it felt like to receive racist death threats just for existing in the ‘Star Wars’ universe, and that was a really difficult thing for me to move through,” she continued. “But honestly, it feels so much more painful for me to feel like I’m at odds with my own community.”
Stenberg said that she considers her skin tone when navigating her career choices and would “never go after a role” she didn’t feel well suited for. “I know that colorism is an insidious system that relentlessly impacts every facet of entertainment.”
The actor continued that it was actually a meeting with the “Children of Blood and Bone” author that gave her the confidence to pursue the role.
“I had the opportunity to meet Tomi, the novelist, for the first time. … And she goes, ‘Amandla, I want you to know that when you were a little girl and you were cast as Rue in “The Hunger Games,” and people said that Rue’s death wouldn’t be as sad because you’re a Black girl — that inspired me to write this series so that Black girls like you and Black girls of all shades could have a story written about them,’” Stenberg said in the video. “We started crying, and I said to myself, ‘God wants me here.’”
Representatives for Stenberg, Adeyemi and Prince-Bythewood did not immediately respond to The Times’ request for comment.
The actor and musician Jason Schwartzman pulled a cassette tape from his pocket on stage at the L.A. Phil’s tribute to Wes Anderson. Schwartzman was just a teenager when he was cast as the obliviously ambitious Max Fischer in Anderson’s 1998 film “Rushmore,” and on Friday, he recalled the night Anderson played him the film’s entire soundtrack in his car.
“He said, ‘This is the soundtrack to the movie, this is the order it’s going to be in, and he walked me through the entire film narrating it,” Schwartzman said, still agog at the completeness of Anderson’s vision before a frame was shot.
More recently, Schwartzman said, “I was at my mom’s house tying my shoe, and I see a cassette tape on the ground titled ‘Rushmore songs’.” He then chucked the tape into the audience, a piece of film history that hopefully someone caught unscathed.
Anderson’s use of far-flung needle drops and lovely original score work is, like everything in his film universe, planned down to exacting detail. But this opener of a three-night stand — sporting an all-star roster of guest vocalists, an exceptional backing band, and a light touch from the Phil — was more in the spirit of how fans revisit Anderson’s films. As old friends that pop back into your life, affection only deepened with time, right when you need them.
Guided by the genial riffing of the night’s MC, Bill Murray (an Anderson regular from “Rushmore” onwards), the program made its case that Anderson’s savvy with soundtrack curation and delicate, evocative scores are the heart of his films, right along with his meticulous visual style and arch, melancholy tone.
The director, recently freed from a malfunctioning elevator in a pithily Andersonian incident, made a brief appearance onstage with Murray in his regal white suit. But the focus was the music itself on Friday, and the ragtag roster of artists that fully conjured it.
To start, huge credit due to the show’s musical director Justin Meldal-Johnsen and the session-killer band of Roger Joseph Manning Jr., Jason Falkner, Joey Waronker and Gus Seyffert. The sheer amount of music to arrange and assemble for this was vast and demanding, and they got to all of it from 1996’s “Bottle Rocket” to the present.
The Phil took a more modest role, performing poignant, rigorous slivers of scores from Anderson’s go-to composers Alexandre Desplat (“Canto at Gabelmeister’s Peak” from ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel” and “Mr. Fox in The Fields,” from “The Fantastic Mr. Fox”) or his frequent collaborator, Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh (the propulsive “Ping Island” from “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.”)
Pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet took a lively solo crack at “Moses Rosenthaler” off “The French Dispatch;” Rajib Karmakar and Aakash Pujara played aching sitar and flute drones from “The Darjeeling Limited,” and taiko drummer Kaoru Watanabe nearly blew out the Bowl’s speakers on “Shinto Shrine” from “Isle of Dogs.”
The surprises came from the rock acts brought in to re-imagine the most evocative needle drops from Anderson’s ouvre.
Jackson Browne, in an unbelievable career first, finally got around to performing “Fairest of the Seasons” and “These Days,” tracks he wrote as a teenager eventually covered by German art-rock chanteuse Nico, mournfully used on “The Royal Tenenbaums.”
Beck took a pass at the late Elliott Smith’s ghostly “Needle in The Hay,” used to harrowing effect in the same film, and later Love’s “Alone Again, Or”. Karen Elson beautifully covered Françoise Hardy’s “Les Temps De L’amour” from “Moonrise Kingdom” while the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Karen O simmered through the Rolling Stones’ “Play With Fire” off “Darjeeling.”
Yet the delighted gang’s-all-here element that ties Anderson’s regular cast together was embodied by an endearingly shaggy run through “Zorro Is Back” with Jenny Lewis and Rogê. Towards the end of the night, just before a closer with the Faces’ “Ooh La La,” Murray brought out a one-of-a-kind instrument for a big flourish. A nine-dollar desk bell, seemingly purchased at Staples hours before showtime, requested specifically by Anderson.
“Front of house, make sure Bill’s bell is ripping,” Beck implored the sound techs at the Bowl. Indeed, as the band, including Jim James of My Morning Jacket, Lewis and Schwartzman, performed the Bobby Fuller Four’s single “Let Her Dance,” Murray indeed whacked the hell out of that thing.
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.
‘Evil Dead Burn’
Rated: R, for strong bloody horror violence and gore, and language
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.
“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.
1
2
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.
