Film

Marlee Matlin has a word tattooed on each of her wrists. On the left is “perseverance,” on the right is “warrior.”

“After 37 years, I’m still hustling,” she says by way of explanation in “Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore.” Referring to the ink on her left wrist, she adds, “I look at this all the time. Every day.”

“Not Alone Anymore” is hardly the first celebrity documentary to salute its subject’s tenacity. But if the contours of this story are familiar — the rise, the fall, then the rise again of an Oscar winner — director Shoshannah Stern’s affectionate portrait is all the richer for the layers it reveals about both Matlin and the larger struggles of the Deaf community she embodies. The 59-year-old actor’s legacy may indeed be one of perseverance, but “Not Alone Anymore” touchingly details just how much more challenging her battles with addiction and sexual abuse have been than those of other famous people.

The film’s inventiveness starts with its opening frames, in which closed captioning describes the sounds that accompany the production companies’ logos: “[low humming],” “[dramatic, echoey flutters].” These descriptions occur throughout the documentary, as do subtitles for every talking head, including the Deaf participants. Obviously, these creative decisions allow Deaf and hard-of-hearing viewers to more easily experience “Not Alone Anymore.”

But it’s also a subtle acknowledgement of Matlin’s trailblazing work in the late 1980s, when she used her newfound fame to convince lawmakers to require televisions to include closed captioning — a groundbreaking development for a community who had been deprived of a fuller engagement with the media they were watching.

This wasn’t the only way in which Matlin has left her mark. In “Not Alone Anymore,” she breezily recounts how, at 19, she was plucked from relative obscurity to star in her first film, the 1986 adaptation of “Children of a Lesser God,” based on Mark Medoff’s acclaimed play, about a love affair between Sarah, a Deaf janitor, and James, a hearing teacher. Matlin won the Oscar, becoming the first Deaf actor to do so. (Nearly 40 years later, she remains the youngest lead actress recipient.) At the time, her victory was hailed not just as a coronation of a promising talent but also a triumph for the Deaf, who too often feel marginalized and underestimated. But, as the documentary reveals, real progress would prove trickier to achieve.

Matlin and Stern, who is also a Deaf actor, have been friends for decades, and their interviews are mostly conducted sitting together on a couch, the conversations exuding the cozy intimacy of old chums chatting. Making her directorial debut, Stern deftly draws out her subject. Audiences will learn about Matlin’s past history of drug abuse and her fraught romantic relationship with her “Lesser God” costar William Hurt, whom she has accused of sexual and physical abuse. (Hurt died in 2022.)

But “Not Alone Anymore” gently probes the unique difficulties Matlin’s deafness created as she navigated those traumas. When she went to rehab, the facility was ill-equipped to treat a Deaf patient. And during a poignant discussion about Matlin’s sexual abuse, she explains growing up with no understanding of the phrase “domestic violence.”

“Deaf people only have their eyes to rely on for information,” she tells Stern. It’s an illuminating illustration of the dangers of what the Deaf community refers to as language deprivation.

Despite her Oscar win, Matlin would repeatedly have to advocate for herself in an industry seemingly uninterested in Deaf characters. Stern uses 2021’s best-picture-winning “CODA,” which costarred Matlin, as a happy ending of sorts for her film, without denying the ongoing movement for greater Deaf visibility. But if “Not Alone Anymore” can sometimes lean too heavily on uplifting sentiment, Matlin’s story possesses a bittersweet aftertaste.

As evidenced by Matlin’s years of striking, engaging performances, she is a winning presence in the documentary — funny, charming and open — even while we sense the lingering wounds from a difficult upbringing exacerbated by sexual abuse she endured in childhood. Beyond being a spokesperson for the Deaf, Matlin has also emerged as a voice for survivors, even when the world wasn’t receptive to what she had to say. “Not Alone Anymore” notes, with pointed irony, that Matlin published her candid memoir “I’ll Scream Later” in 2009, years before #MeToo, so her accusations against Hurt didn’t carry the same weight in the media as the ones that would later stop powerful predators such as Harvey Weinstein.

It was hardly the first time Matlin waited for society to catch up with her. When she first arrived in Hollywood, she couldn’t have possibly imagined how much of a warrior spirit she would need. “Not Alone Anymore” honors a woman who learned how to fight.

After weathering a pandemic, dual strikes and massive wildfires, Hollywood is finally getting a lifeline.

California legislators voted Friday to more than double the amount allocated each year to the state’s film and television tax credit program, raising that cap to $750 million from $330 million.

The increase is a win for the studios, producers, unions and industry workers who have lobbied state legislators for months on the issue.

Other states and countries have increasingly lured productions away from California with generous tax credits and incentive programs, leaving many in Hollywood without work for months. In interviews, town halls and legislative committee hearings, industry workers said that without state intervention, they feared Tinseltown would be hollowed out, similar to Detroit after the heyday of its auto industry.

“It’s now time to get people back to work and bring production home to California,” Directors Guild of America executive and Entertainment Union Coalition President Rebecca Rhine said in a statement. “We call on the studios to recommit to the communities and workers across the state that built this industry and built their companies.”

Gov. Gavin Newsom called to expand the annual tax credit program last year, saying at the time that “the world we invented is now competing against us.”

From there, state lawmakers looked to expand the provisions of the program. A separate bill going through the Legislature would broaden the types of productions eligible to apply, including animated films, shorts and series and certain large-scale competition shows. It would also increase the tax credit to as much as 35% of qualified expenditures for movies and TV series shot in the Greater Los Angeles area and up to 40% for productions shot outside the region.

That bill, AB 1138, was unanimously approved Thursday by the state Senate Revenue and Tax Committee. It will be up for final votes next week.

California provides a 20% to 25% tax credit to offset qualified production expenses, such as money spent on film crews and building sets. Production companies can apply the credit toward any tax liabilities they have in California.

The bump to 35% puts California more in line with incentives offered by other states, such as Georgia, which provides a 30% credit for productions.

Lawmakers and industry insiders have said the increased tax credit cap and the proposed criteria changes to the incentive program must both be approved to make California more competitive for filming. The bill was written by Assemblymember Rick Chavez Zbur (D-Los Angeles) and state Sen. Benjamin Allen (D-Santa Monica).

“After years of uncertainty, workers can once again set the stage, cue the lights, and roll the cameras — because California is keeping film and TV jobs anchored right here, where they belong,” Zbur said in a statement about the $750-million cap. “This is a historic investment in our creative economy, our working families, small businesses, and the communities that depend on this industry to thrive.”

Agnes (Eva Victor) has the face of a classical Hollywood movie star but she dresses like an old fisherman. Her expressions are inscrutable; you never know what’s going to come out of her mouth or how. When asked on a written questionnaire how her friends would describe her, she puts down “smart,” crosses it out, then replaces it with “tall.” She is all of those things: tall, smart, striking, endearingly awkward, hard to read. And she is an utterly captivating, entirely unique cinematic presence, the planet around which orbits “Sorry, Baby,” the debut feature of Victor, who not only stars but writes and directs.

Agnes’ backstory, revealed in time, is a distressingly common one of sexual assault, recounted with bursts of wild honesty, searing insight and unexpected humor. Victor’s screenplay earned her the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at the Sundance Film Festival this year, where the film had its premiere. As a writer and performer, Victor allows Agnes to relay what happened in her own way while keeping the most intimate horrors protected.

Set in the frigid environs of the English department at a rural Massachusetts university, “Sorry, Baby” carries a literary quality, emphasized by nonchronological titled chapters (e.g., “The Year With the Baby,” “The Year With the Bad Thing,”) carefully establishing our protagonist, the world she inhabits and a few nagging questions.

Agnes is a professor of English at the university where she completed her graduate studies, but we first meet her as the best friend of Lydie (Naomi Ackie), who arrives for a winter weekend visit. Two codependent besties reunited, they snuggle on the couch and laugh about sex. Lydie delights at the mystery man who turns up on her friend’s doorstep — a friendly, familiar neighbor named Gavin (Lucas Hedges).

But Lydie’s quiet concern for her friend is also palpable. When she reveals her pregnancy to Agnes, she says, “There’s something I need to tell you about my body,” as if Agnes is a child who needs gentle explanation. And in a strange way, Agnes seems to take to this childlike role with her friend. Lydie carefully probes her about her office and its previous occupant. She presses her about remaining in this town. Isn’t it “a lot”? “It’s a lot to be wherever,” Agnes replies. Lydie requests of her, “Don’t die” and Agnes reassures her she would have already killed herself if she was going to. It’s cold comfort, a phrase that could capably describe the entire vibe of “Sorry, Baby.”

Victor then flips back to an earlier chapter, before their graduation, to a time when Agnes seems less calcified in her idiosyncrasies. Their thesis advisor, Preston Decker (Louis Cancelmi), handsome and harried, tells Agnes her work is “extraordinary” and reschedules a meeting due to a child-care emergency. They both end up at his home, where dusk turns to night.

What ensues is what you expect and dread, though we only hear about it when Agnes recounts the excruciating details of the incident to Lydie later that night. The fallout renders Agnes emotionally stunted, running alternately on autopilot and impulse. Lydie fiercely protects (and enables) her friend until she has to move on with her life, leaving Agnes frozen in amber in that house, that office, that town, that night.

There’s an architectural quality to Victor’s style in the film’s structure and thoughtful editing, and in the lingering shots of buildings standing starkly against an icy sky, glowing windows beckoning or concealing from within: a representation of a singular kind of brittle, poignant New England stoicism. Victor captures Agnes the same way.

Thanks to the profound and nuanced honesty Victor extracts from each moment, “Sorry, Baby” is a movie that lingers. Even when Agnes does something outlandish or implausible — turning up on foot at Gavin’s door in a tizzy is one of her curious quirks — it feels true to the character.

But Agnes is a mystery even to herself, it seems, tamping down her feelings until they come tumbling out in strange ways. She goes about her daily life in a never-ending cycle of repression and explosion, cracking until she shatters completely. Her most important journey is to find a place to be soft again.

The only catharsis or healing to be found in the film comes from the titular apology, more a rueful word of caution than anything else. We can never be fully protected from what life has in store for us, nor from the acts of selfishness or cruelty that cause us to harden and retreat into the protective cocoon of a huge jacket, a small town, an empty house.

Life — and the people in it — will break us sometimes. But there are still kittens and warm baths and best friends and really good sandwiches. There are still artists like Victor who share stories like this with such detailed emotion. Sometimes that’s enough to glue us back together, at least for a little while.

“M3GAN 2.0” is another shiny display case for its violent antiheroine, an artificially intelligent doll with little regard for human life. In the new movie, there are two of them: Meet AMELIA, a lithesome blond who opens the film decimating a bunker somewhere near the border of Turkey and Iran. The robot babe’s name stands for Autonomous Military Engagement Logistics and Infiltration Android, and one can imagine the real White House asking if we can actually build her.

This fledgling franchise has rewired itself from horror to action-comedy. Bigger and goofier than the 2022 hit, “M3GAN 2.0” is content to be this summer’s fidget spinner: an amusement soon forgotten. You can easily accuse returning director Gerard Johnstone (who’s taken over screenwriting duties too) of assembling it from other movies’ nuts and bolts. He’s not hiding his influences, including “The Terminator,” “Metropolis” and the head-spinning theatrics of “The Exorcist.” It’s a magpie movie that’s happy to give audiences the tinselly things they want — i.e., two robots clobbering the Wi-Fi out of each other. But Johnstone creates openings for his own shaggy sense of humor. I’m excited to keep tabs on the promising New Zealander.

The snippy robot begins the film with her body destroyed but her ego as big as ever. M3GAN, voiced by Jenna Davis and embodied by both an animatronic puppet and the young dancer Amie Donald, will be reconstructed and built back better — and taller, as the physically gifted Donald has herself aged from 12 to 15. As an interim step, M3GAN gets temporarily placed in a tiny teal bot with flipper hands named Moxie, who seems adorable unless you know that Moxie was a real AI emotional support doll launched in 2020 that was abruptly bricked last year, teaching kids a sad lesson in startup funding and, in essence, death. (You can find videos online of people saying goodbye to their comatose friend.)

Meanwhile, M3GAN’S creator Gemma (a droll Allison Williams) is out of prison and rebranding herself as an anti-technology crusader. “You wouldn’t give your child cocaine — why would you give them a smartphone?” she hectors, while her bland do-gooder boyfriend Christian (Aristotle Athari) enlists the United Nations to fight back against the creeping omnipotence of AI. Cady (Violet McGraw), Gemma’s 12-year-old orphaned niece, wants a career in computer science. Gemma prefers that she concentrate on soccer.

Smartly, these films don’t create a phony dichotomy between tender humans and cold machinery. Gemma’s interpersonal skills could use an update. She can’t connect to her young charge. Hilariously and hypocritically, she orders Cady around with zero respect for the child’s free will. When Cady insists that she’s not sleepy enough to go to bed, Gemma snaps, “Take a melatonin.”

What interests Johnstone here is how biological and synthetic beings blend together. Gemma and her colleagues Cole and Tess (Brian Jordan Alvarez and Jen Van Epp) are designing a mechanized exoskeleton that would allow a human worker to toss around concrete blocks as breezily as a penny (although when it glitches, Cole can’t get out of the suit to use the bathroom). Their billionaire potential investor, Alton (Jemaine Clement, whose oily lecherousness may remind you of a recent government employee), has a neural chip in his temple that’s layered an invisible computer screen over his retinas. Blinking his eyes to take photographs, this repellent tech bro appears so ridiculous that you half-wonder if his innovation is fake, — the emperor’s new code. But when AMELIA (Ivanna Sakhno) uses his eyeballs against him, we enjoy Alton realizing how pitiful he looks.

The plot here is the same one we’re going to keep repeating until today’s technofeudalist geeks quit inventing things that the majority of people don’t want. (So, probably forever.) AMELIA wants access to the computer cloud that controls every facet of our existence, from the power grid to the financial markets. There’s a cool, if truncated, car chase in which AMELIA treats humans like roadblocks, flinging us into traffic by freezing scooters and releasing cash from sidewalk ATMs.

On a more intimate scale, Gemma and Cady’s new Bay Area rental is a smart house where everything is a potential poltergeist, from the ice dispenser to the vacuum. They thought M3GAN was dead; turns out, she’s the ghost in their machines. The movie isn’t scary in the slightest. But afterward, it’s terrifying to count how many things you own that aren’t truly under your control — and, scarier, how hard it’s getting to stop this home invasion. Does anyone really need their refrigerator authorized to order more eggs?

“M3GAN 2.0” is at heart a B-movie about a technological arms race fought by femmebots with literal swinging arms. It’s dopey by design. At least Johnstone punches up the premise. There’s not just one secret lair — there are three! — and each has its own playful reveal. Later, he finagles a physical comedy beat in which Gemma is delighted to realize she’s more like M3GAN than she thinks. I was never that moved by M3GAN’s girl-power-y argument that she has a soul (“I’m nobody’s plaything,” she growls.) And the scene in which she and Gemma bond starts off like a groaner but gets us howling when the doll goes too far and begins to sing another cringey pop song, a great gag recycled from the last movie.

Most of the other obvious yuks are flashy and hollow: Of course M3GAN will dance. Of course M3GAN will zip into a flying squirrel suit and go soaring over the trees. Of course a souped-up smart sports car will blare the theme music from “Knight Rider.” That gets a reflexive chuckle, but it mostly reminds us that today’s so-called genius inventors just wish their childhood toys were real.

But what intrigues me about Johnstone are the jokes that barely involve M3GAN at all. The most surprising laugh in the first movie came when a detective giggled as he described a little boy’s murder. Killer dolls, we get. Yet, this was the stock cop character seen in every genre flick acting fundamentally against his programming. Here, that humor has gone viral — it’s now in every scene — insisting that humanity itself is fundamentally strange and unpredictable.

The robot is the draw, but I’d watch “M3GAN 2.0” for the people. And stay for the end credits disclaimer: “This work may not be used to train AI.” Good luck with that.

No pop artist today has a more tangled relationship to a venue than the Weeknd has with SoFi Stadium.

First, he chose SoCal’s flagship stadium as the site to film the denouement of his cult-campy HBO series “The Idol” during one of his concerts. Unfortunately, during the set, he lost his voice four songs in and had to send fans home for the night so he could recover and make up the date. For such a perfectionist, that must have been a body blow.

He rebounded a few months later with a triumphal return and the concert doc “The Weeknd: Live at SoFi Stadium.” But that nerve-racking experience stuck with him. He revisited it in his recent feature film (and album) “Hurry Up Tomorrow,” where a fictional version of the Weeknd loses his voice onstage, kicking off a surrealist, violent night with Jenna Ortega. A brief interlude from that LP is titled “I Can’t F— Sing.”

So Abel Tesfaye must have had a range of mixed feelings when he walked out at SoFi on Wednesday night, the first of four nights at the site of some of his greatest triumphs and most bitter disappointments as a live performer. “This is bigger than me — it’s a reflection of the power of music and its impact on people,” Tesfaye told The Times in a brief email just before the show.

The Weeknd performs during his After Hours til Dawn Stadium Tour at SoFi Stadium.

(Luke Johnson / Los Angeles Times)

This slickly cryptic, immaculately performed 2½-hour set covered the whole of his era-defining catalog. But is this run of SoFi dates a swan song to one of the most successful recording projects of our time?

Since first emerging as an anonymous voice atop gothic, coked-up R&B productions on a trilogy of 2011 mixtapes, Tesfaye’s tastes and his unlikely commercial success grew together.

An underground fan base turned up for the nihilism of “Wicked Games” (“Bring the drugs, baby, I could bring my pain”). But with assists from Max Martin and Daft Punk, he became a bona fide pop star. His mournful Ethiopian melodic lilt stood out like nothing else in Top 40, and he hung onto enough art-freak sensibility that he could headline the Super Bowl halftime show with dancers in full-face plastic-surgery bandages. His ’80s-noir, 2019 single “Blinding Lights” remains the most-streamed song on Spotify, ever.

Darryl Eaton, his agent at CAA, told The Times that the 200,000 tickets sold for this SoFi run alone is “like selling out an entire American city.”

Yet Tesfaye has recently hinted at retiring the Weeknd as a premise. “It’s a headspace I’ve gotta get into that I just don’t have any more desire for,” he told Variety recently. “It never ends until you end it.”

Whether he wants to release less conceptual, more personal music, or if he’s simply run out of gas with this all-consuming pop entity he’s created, this SoFi run is likely one of the last chances L.A. fans will get to see the Weeknd. Tesfaye will surely keep making music and films, but it makes cinematic sense that he’d come back to the scene of his most painful night onstage to put this all to bed.

After a brief and typically roiling set from Tesfaye’s recent collaborator Playboi Carti, Tesfaye emerged in black and gold, eyes lit with LED pinpicks, over a ruined cityscape. Opening with the “BoJack Horseman”-riffing “The Abyss,” he grimly promised, “I tried my best to not let you go / I don’t like the view from halfway down … I tried to be something that I’ll never be.” It sure felt like he was saying goodbye to this way of being an artist.

The show kicked into gear with Tesfaye surrounded by a trim live band and minimalist, moving-sculpture dancers in rose-colored robes. He didn’t need much more to let that once-in-a-generation voice carry everything. Tesfaye’s a uniquely dedicated live vocalist on the stadium circuit (it’s kind of honorable that any serious vocal troubles might mean the show’s over). For all his high-concept misdirections in videos and films, you could feel the troubled intimacy that’s kept fans invested in this music over so many aesthetics.

For all his close reads of Michael Jackson’s records on singles like “Can’t Feel My Face,” Tesfaye’s not an especially physical dancer onstage. But he knows exactly how to inhabit and set-dress this music to make it eerie and monolithic, even at its poppiest.

The Weeknd.

(Luke Johnson / Los Angeles Times)

“After Hours” made a seductive case for letting an obviously toxic man back into your life (“Different girls on the floor, distracting my thoughts of you”). After finally taking off his face mask, he played “Take My Breath” like a revving, neo-disco floor-filler that still winked at the darker choke-kinks of his old music.

When he cranked up the pyro on the midcareer lurker ballad “The Hills,” the front rows of SoFi got a bracing reminder of how volatile this music is even when it sits atop streaming charts. Alongside Carti on their collaborations “Timeless” and “Rather Lie,” Tesfaye grounded his pal’s smeary Atlanta noise with evilly pretty melody. This is a voice you just can’t help but believe, even when it’s calling you to self-destruction.

The Weeknd performs at SoFi Stadium.

(Luke Johnson / Los Angeles Times)

If this tour is indeed at the end of his tenure as the Weeknd, at more than three dozen songs, Wednesday’s set delivered every possible angle of valediction — the thrumming decadence of “Often,” the desperate sincerity of “Die for You” and “Is There Someone Else?” Newer material like “Cry for Me” and “São Paolo” showed that, whatever his exhaustion with this aegis, he’s got tons of startling ideas still brimming.

When Tesfaye buried the hatchet with the Grammys back in February, it was a generous gesture to an organization that inexplicably locked him out of honors for “Blinding Lights,” which he should, obviously, have contended for. When he played that double-time, neo-New Wave single toward the end of his Wednesday set, it felt like a strange pearl that he’d discovered — one of the biggest pop songs of all time, played by a guy whose music emerged from a murk of MDMA licks and mournful threesomes.

With perhaps the exception of his (exceedingly stylish if critically skeptical) film career, he’s always found his voice, over and over again. SoFi Stadium has dealt the Weeknd his greatest defeat and some of his finest hours as a performer. Now it’s sending him off to Valhalla, wherever that takes Abel Tesfaye.

Lalo Schifrin, the six-time Oscar nominee and prolific composer best known for his Grammy-winning “Mission: Impossible” theme, has died. He was 93.

Schifrin died Thursday morning at a hospital in Los Angeles, his son Will Schifrin, a writer and producer, told The Times. He reportedly died of complications from pneumonia.

The Argentine-born composer infused elements of jazz, rock and funk into classical orchestral music and is credited with helping to change the sound of movies. Schifrin was Oscar-nominated for his scores on the films “Cool Hand Luke” (1967), “The Fox” (1967), “Voyage of the Damned” (1976), “The Amityville Horror” (1979) and “The Sting II” (1983). He also earned a song nomination for “People Alone” from the 1980 drama “The Competition.” In 2018, Schifrin received an honorary Oscar.

Schifrin wrote more than 100 scores for film and television over the course of his Hollywood career, including for the movies “Dirty Harry” (1971), “THX 1138” (1971), “Enter the Dragon” (1973) and the “Rush Hour” trilogy, as well as TV shows including “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” and “Starsky and Hutch.”

“I learned to be a chameleon,” Schifrin told The Times in 2018. “In motion pictures, the real creator is the screenwriter and the director and the producer. I have to work for what they have made. Like a chameleon, I do whatever is necessary.”

In 2011, Schifrin modestly described himself as a “music maker.” While the catchy theme for the spy series “Mission: Impossible” remains one of his best known pieces, Schifrin told The Times “it was just work.”

“For everything I’ve done, I did my best,” Schifrin said in 2016. “I like what I did. I don’t think it’s a masterpiece, but it’s OK. … If people like it, to the point of embracing it, great. That doesn’t happen too often.”

Born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in 1932, Schifrin was exposed to music from a young age. His father Luis served as the concert master of the Philharmonic Orchestra of Buenos Aires at the Teatro Colón. And Schifrin was just 5 years old when a trip to the movies with his grandmother made him realize that it was the music that made the horror film so scary.

Schifrin began studying piano under Enrique Barenboim, the father of pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim, when he was 6. He discovered and fell in love with modern American jazz as a teenager. Upon the suggestion of one of his teachers, he applied for a scholarship to attend the Paris Conservatory. During his time there, he made money playing at jazz clubs.

After returning to Buenos Aires, Schifrin started his own jazz band to perform at concerts and on TV. He eventually met American jazz trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie, who invited him to work for him in the U.S. In 1963, while he was working with Gillespie after moving to New York, Schifrin was offered a job in Hollywood.

“My first movie was called ‘Rhino,’” Schifrin told The Times in 2011. “It was a low-budget movie, but it was the beginning.”

Schifrin is survived by his wife, Donna, and his children, William, Frances and Ryan.

There is a simple tattoo of a windowpane on the middle finger of Eva Victor’s right hand. When I ask about it, the filmmaker launches into a story that involves miscommunication with an Italian tattoo artist while on a trip to Paris.

“I drew this really intricate fine-line tattoo of a window with all these curtains and little things in it,” explains Victor. “And I went to the woman and she was like, ‘I cannot do that.’ And I was like, ‘OK, what can you do?’ And she drew a box with lines in it and I was like, “OK, let’s do that.’ And she did it.”

With a little distance and perspective, what could have been a permanent disaster now means something else.

“It seriously is a really rough tattoo,” Victor adds with a lighthearted laugh. “But, you know, life is life. And that’s my tattoo and I have it on my hand every day of my life.”

Much like “Sorry, Baby,” the debut feature that Victor wrote, directed and starred in, the tattoo story is one that begins in odd whimsy but takes an unexpected turn toward something deeper, a personal journey.

“I have a lot of tattoos that are day-of tattoos,” Victor, 31, says. “Sometimes with big decisions I find it’s easier to just do it. It matters more to me that I’m doing this than what it is.

Seeing it every day, the little window is a reminder of another life. “It is definitely like a memory of a person I was who would do something like that,” she adds.

“Sorry, Baby” premiered earlier this year at the Sundance Film Festival, where it won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award and was picked up for distribution by indie powerhouse A24. The film more recently played at Cannes and opens in limited release this week.

Told via a literary-inspired chapter structure across five years, the story follows Agnes (Victor), a professor at the small East Coast liberal arts college where she was also a grad student, as she tenuously recovers from the free fall following a sexual assault by one of her instructors. Naomi Ackie (also recently seen in “Blink Twice” and “Mickey 17”) brings an openhearted allegiance to Agnes’ best friend Lydie, who, over the course of the film, comes out as gay, marries a woman and has a baby, while Lucas Hedges plays a sympathetic neighbor.

Eva Victor in the movie “Sorry, Baby.”

(A24)

It’s a recent quiet Monday morning at a West Hollywood vegetarian restaurant where we meet and Victor, who uses they/she pronouns and identifies as queer, peruses the menu with a mix of curiosity and enthusiasm.

Victor is a self-described pescatarian but will make the odd exception for a slider at a fancy party or a bite of the pork and green chile stew at Dunsmoor in Glassell Park, a favorite. Having moved to Los Angeles a little over a year ago to work on the editing of “Sorry, Baby,” Victor has settled into living in Silver Lake with their cat, Clyde.

“I love it — I do,” Victor says with quiet conviction. “It’s very comforting. I have all my little things I get when I’m home, but it’s been a while since I’ve been home for a bit. So I’m looking forward to being able to rest at home soon.”

After breakfast, Victor will head to the airport to go shoot a small acting part in an unnamed project and by the end of the week will make a talk show debut with an appearance on the “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert.”

“It’s been very intense for me,” Victor says of the period following Sundance. “I’m very interested in my privacy and also in routine of the day. I really like having things I do every day. It’s weird to go from making a movie for four years, basically, that nobody knows about. And then it premieres at Sundance and that’s how people find out about it and everyone finds out about it in the same night. That is a very bizarre experience for the body.”

Victor adds, “It does feel like there are a lot of layers between me and the film at this point.”

There’s an unusual, angular physicality to Victor’s performance in “Sorry, Baby,” as Agnes struggles to reengage with her own body following the assault, mostly referred to in the film as “the bad thing.”

“I keep hearing, ‘Oh, Agnes is so awkward.’ I’m like, ‘What the hell?’” says Victor, protectively. “I’m very humbled by people’s reactions to how bizarre they think that character is because I’m like: ‘Oh, I thought she was acting legitimately normal, but OK.’”

“It’s life-affirming for me to know that I wrote the film in a leap-of-faith way to be like: ‘Is anyone else feeling like this?’” says Victor. “And it’s nice to know that there are people who are understanding what that is.”

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Victor, grew up in San Francisco and studied playwriting and acting at Northwestern University, moving to New York City after graduation with ambitions to work as a staffer on a late-night talk show. She got a job writing for the satirical website Reductress and began making short online videos of herself, many of which became offbeat viral comedy hits for the way they jabbed at contemporary culture, including “me explaining to my boyfriend why we’re going to straight pride” and “me when I def did not murder my husband,” and “the girl from the movie who doesn’t believe in love.” She also appeared as a performer on the final three seasons of the series “Billions.”

The character sketches of those videos only hinted at the nuance and complexity of which Victor was capable. Throughout “Sorry, Baby” there is a care and delicacy to how the most sensitive and vulnerable moments are handled. In the film, the sexual assault itself occurs offscreen — we don’t see it or hear it — as a shot of the facade of the teacher’s house depicts the passage of time from day to night. Later, Agnes sits in the bath as she describes to Lydie what happened, a moment made all the more disarming for the tinges of humor that Victor still manages to bring.

“At the end of the day, I really wanted to make a film about trying to heal,” Victor says. “And about love getting you through really hard times. And so the violence is not depicted in the film and not structurally the big plot point of the film. The big plot point of the film in my opinion is Agnes telling Lydie what happened and her holding it very well. That to me is sort of what we’re building to in the film — these moments in friendship over time and the loneliness of a person in between those moments.”

The relationship between Agnes and Lydie forms much of the core of “Sorry, Baby,” with the chemistry between Victor and Ackie giving off a rare warmth and understanding. The connection between the two actors as performers happened straight away.

“The script was so incredible that, to be honest with you, I already felt like I knew them,” says Ackie on a Zoom call from New York City. “There was something about the rhythm of how the writing was that made me feel like we might have something in common. When I was reading it to myself, it felt so natural in my mouth. And then we finally met and it was like all of the humor and the heart and the tragedy of the script was suddenly in a person. There was a sense of ease in the way we were talking and openness and a joyfulness and an excitedness that was kind of instantaneous.”

Naomi Ackie, left, and Eva Victor in the movie “Sorry, Baby.”

(A24)

The film is the product of an unusual development process spurred by producers Barry Jenkins, Adele Romanski and Mark Ceryak. Based on their fandom of Victor’s online videos, Jenkins reached out through DMs and set up a meeting, setting in motion the process that would eventually lead to a screenplay for “Sorry, Baby.”

“When Ava sent the first draft of ‘Sorry, Baby,’ it arrived in the way that the most special things have for me, which is fully formed,” says Romanski. “Not to say that we didn’t then go back and continue to refine it, but it just arrived so clear and so emotional. It hit from the first draft. So it felt like it would be such a shame not to figure out how to put that into a visual form that other people could experience what we were able to experience just from reading it.”

From there, the team set about making Victor feel comfortable and confident as both a filmmaker and a performer. Having already had experience working with first-time feature directors such as Charlotte Wells on “Aftersun” and Raven Jackson on “All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt,” the producing trio knew the process would require extra care and attention.

“Part of the reason this challenge felt possible is how much work we’ve done in how best to support a director in that debut space,” says Romanski. “There was a lot of confidence and assuredness around how to be that producer for that first-time filmmaker.”

The team arranged something of an unofficial directing fellowship, allowing Victor to shoot a few scenes from the script and then sit down with an editor to discuss how to improve on the footage. Victor made shot lists after watching Jenkins’ “Moonlight” and Kelly Reichardt’s “Certain Women,” leaning further into the mechanics of how to visually construct scenes. Victor also shadowed filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun during production for last year’s acclaimed “I Saw the TV Glow.”

“There was no prescriptive timeline to the course that it took,” explains Romanski. “It was just kind of, we’ll keep finding things to help you fortify and put on directorial muscle mass until you tell us, ‘I’m ready.’ And then when you say, ‘I’m ready,’ we’ll pivot to putting the movie together. There’s no blueprint for this, at least not for us. We haven’t done it quite like this before, but that’s also what’s exciting about it.”

Without ever sharing specifics, the story is rooted in Victor’s personal experience. Going back to some of their earliest press around 2018, Victor would self-describe as a sexual assault survivor. There was material about it in a stand-up comedy routine. (“It didn’t work,” Victor notes, dryly, adding that they longer do stand-up.)

The experience of making the movie and putting it out into the world has been one of potentially being continually retriggered, sent back to emotions and feelings Victor has worked hard to move forward from. Yet the process of making the film began to provide its own rewards.

“The thing about this kind of trauma is it is someone deciding where your body goes without your permission,” Victor says. “And that is surreal and absurd and very difficult. It’s very difficult to make sense of the world after something like that happens.”

The “Sorry, Baby” shoot in Massachusetts last year was a turning point, says Victor, one of validation. “The experience of directing myself as an actor is an experience of saying: This is where my body’s going right now,” says Victor. “And a crew of 60 people being like, ‘Yes.’ It’s this really special experience of being like, ‘I am saying where my body goes’ and everyone agrees. In the making of the film, that was very powerful to me.”

Eva Victor and John Carroll Lynch in the movie “Sorry, Baby.”

(A24)

Even with the success of “Sorry, Baby” and the way it has launched Victor to a new level of attention and acclaim, there is a tinge of melancholy to discovering just how many people are connecting to the film because it speaks to their own experiences.

“It’s a very personal film for a lot of people and there’s a sadness to that because it’s a community of people who have experienced things that they shouldn’t have had to,” says Victor. “It’s life-affirming for me to know that I wrote the film in a leap-of-faith way to be like: ‘Is anyone else feeling like this?’ And it’s nice to know that there are people who are understanding what that is.”

While recently back in France, Victor got another tattoo, this time on her foot, where she doesn’t see it as often.

“Maybe there’s a dash of mental illness in it,” says Victor. “But I think with tattoos, it’s such a good one, because it’s not going to hurt you but it is intense and permanent. So it is risk-taking.”

That attention to a small shift in personal perspective, a change in action and how one approaches the world, is part of what makes “Sorry, Baby” such a powerful experience. And as it now continues to make its way out to more audiences, Victor’s experience with it continues to evolve as well.

“There is a process that’s happening right now where it’s like an exhale. I’m like, whatever will be will be,” Victor says. “Putting something out into the world is a process of letting go of it. And I had my time with it and I got to make it what I wanted it to be. And now it will over time not be mine.”

The experience of making “Sorry, Baby” has pushed Victor forward both professionally and personally, finding catharsis in creativity and community.

“I guess that is the deal,” Victor offers. “That is part of the journey of releasing something. I mean it’s legitimately called a release.”

Denis Villeneuve will direct the next James Bond film, the 26th official entry in the historic franchise. Villeneuve will also serve as executive producer, alongside Tanya Lapointe.

Amy Pascal and David Heyman are producing the project, as had been previously announced. The pair came onto the film after the series’ longtime producers, Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson, made a deal to give up creative control to Amazon MGM Studios earlier this year.

In a statement, Villeneuve, a four-time Academy Award nominee, said, “Some of my earliest movie-going memories are connected to 007. I grew up watching James Bond films with my father, ever since ‘Dr. No’ with Sean Connery. I’m a die-hard Bond fan. To me, he’s sacred territory. I intend to honor the tradition and open the path for many new missions to come. This is a massive responsibility, but also, incredibly exciting for me and a huge honor. Amy, David, and I are absolutely thrilled to bring him back to the screen.”

Also in a statement, Pascal and Heyman commented, “Denis Villeneuve has been in love with James Bond movies since he was a little boy. It was always his dream to make this movie, and now it’s ours, too. We are lucky to be in the hands of this extraordinary filmmaker.”

Villeneuve’s last film, “Dune: Part Two,” earned more than $700 million worldwide. He is preparing to begin shooting the third “Dune” movie this summer with a scheduled release date of Dec. 16, 2026.

Daniel Craig and Ana de Armas in “No Time to Die,” which marked Craig’s final film in the James Bond franchise.

(Nicola Dove / MGM)

The prior film in the Bond franchise, 2021’s “No Time to Die,” finished off Daniel Craig’s five-film run in the role, which began with 2006’s “Casino Royale.”

A screenwriter hasn’t yet been named and no announcement has been made as to who will take over playing the famed British secret agent.

Mike Hopkins, head of Prime Video and Amazon MGM Studios, said in a statement, “We are honored that Denis has agreed to direct James Bond’s next chapter. He is a cinematic master, whose filmography speaks for itself. From ‘Blade Runner 2049’ to ‘Arrival’ to the ‘Dune’ films, he has delivered compelling worlds, dynamic visuals, complex characters, and — most importantly — the immersive storytelling that global audiences yearn to experience in theaters. James Bond is in the hands of one of today’s greatest filmmakers and we cannot wait to get started on 007’s next adventure.”

LEE CARSLEY knew nothing about a potential role in new movie Saipan — but he is desperate to write his own Hollywood script in Slovakia.

The England Under-21s boss was part of the Republic of Ireland’s 2002 World Cup squad that witnessed the huge row between boss Mick McCarthy and captain Roy Keane.

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In fact, it was Carsley and Jason McAteer that had to face the media the day after the explosive incident, which led to Keane walking out on the team.

A trailer for the movie, starring Steve Coogan as McCarthy, has set tongues wagging.

Unfortunately for Carsley, despite Oliver Coopersmith being cast to play McAteer, producers felt there was no place for the Young Lions chief.

But the 51-year-old is more concerned about leading England to a second-straight Euro crown, with a semi-final against the Netherlands tonight.

Carsley said: “Holland are a team that we’ve been watching now for a while.

“They’re very attacking, very expansive in the way they play.

“Technically very good. I really like the system that they play as well.

“We’ve spoken about making sure the Spain game can’t be the highlight of our tournament.

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“So the players are really determined.

“We’ve had a good couple of days training. We’re looking forward to the game now.”

After Carsley’s side slapped Spain 3-1 in the quarter-finals on Saturday, he is now hoping they produce another masterclass to sink the Dutch.

He said: “Ideally and I’ve spoken to the players about it, you want to coach a team where you watching them play and you’re enjoying watching them. That Spain game and the second half of the Germany game, you are on the side, enjoying watching the players play and expressing themselves.

“You want foreign journalists to speak about our players the way we sometimes speak about their players, in terms of their technical ability or the way they can take the ball.

“We’re definitely changing that perception of English players.”

Holland coach Michael Reiziger has been impressed by the Young Lions.

His side beat Portugal 1-0 last time out despite Ruben van Bommel’s 21st- minute red card.

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Reiziger said: “They’re not playing in a typical English style.

“They are playing really well with a lot of good quality and they are growing into the tournament. 

“It will be a tough game but that is logical.

“We’ve watched every match of England.

“Two strong teams that love to play football, two teams that have quality.

“It is going to be an interesting game. We have some comparison with England.

“We started not that well but are getting better every time, resulting in the fact we won a game with ten men.”

After over two decades of misery in penalty shootouts, Sir Gareth Southgate helped instil a no fear factor into England players, with the seniors winning three of their last four.

And Carsley insists his lads are ready for penalties if it comes down to it tonight. He said: “There’s more of an awareness of penalties and the technique and structure that goes behind a shoot-out.

“We are fortunate to have a lot of players who take penalties for their clubs.

“It is very difficult to replicate the walk from the halfway line to the penalty spot, especially if you are not used to it.

“It’s something Gareth pushed which filtered down the pathway.

“It is so important because of the amount of resources thrown at the senior team to be the best at shootouts.

“That awareness of how important they are has definitely trickled down and we have benefited from that.”

England’s Under-21 Euros squad in FULL

ENGLAND are looking to retain their status as Under-21 European champions this summer in Slovakia.

Here is Lee Carsley’s full squad for the blockbuster tournament:

Goalkeepers: James Beadle (Brighton and Hove Albion), Teddy Sharman-Lowe (Chelsea), Tommy Simkin (Stoke City)

Defenders: Charlie Cresswell (FC Toulouse), Ronnie Edwards (Southampton), CJ Egan-Riley (Burnley), Tino Livramento (Newcastle United), Brooke Norton Cuffy (Genoa), Jarell Quansah (Liverpool)

Midfielders: Elliot Anderson (Nottingham Forest), Archie Gray (Tottenham Hotspur), Hayden Hackney (Middlesbrough), Jack Hinshelwood (Brighton and Hove Albion), Tyler Morton (Liverpool), Alex Scott (AFC Bournemouth)

Forwards: Harvey Elliott (Liverpool), Omari Hutchinson (Ipswich Town), Sam Iling Jnr (Aston Villa), James McAtee (Manchester City), Ethan Nwaneri (Arsenal), Jonathan Rowe (Marseille), Jay Stansfield (Birmingham City)

The ongoing ICE sweeps taking place across Los Angeles and the country have underscored the many challenges faced by immigrant communities. For decades, migrants across Latin America have traversed rugged terrain and seas in search of a better life in the United States, often risking their lives in the process. Various films have captured the complexities of the Latino immigrant experience. Here are five of them.

“El Norte” (1983) directed by Gregory Nava

Siblings Rosa and Enrique Xuncax (played by Zaide Silvia Gutiérrez and David Villalpando, respectively) decide to flee to the U.S. after their family is killed in the Guatemalan Civil War, a government-issued massacre that decimated the country’s Maya population. After a dangerous trek through Mexico, Rosa and Enrique find themselves in Los Angeles, the land of hopes and dreams — or so they think. The 1983 narrative is the first independent film to be nominated for an Academy Award for original screenplay; it was later added to the National Film Registry in 1995.

Decades later, “El Norte” still feels prescient.

“[Everything] that the film is about is once again here with us,” Nava told The Times in January. “All of the issues that you see in the film haven’t gone away. The story of Rosa and Enrique is still the story of all these refugees that are still coming here, seeking a better life in the United States.”

“Under the Same Moon” (2007) directed by Patricia Riggen

Separated by borders, 9-year-old Carlitos (Adrián Alonso) yearns to reunite with his mother, Rosario (Kate del Castillo), who left him behind in Mexico with his ailing grandmother. After his grandmother passes, Carlitos unexpectedly flees alone to find his mother in Los Angeles, encountering harrowing scenarios as he pieces together details of her exact location. Directed by Patricia Riggen as her first full-length feature, it made its debut at Sundance Film Festival in 2007, where it received a standing ovation.

“All these people risked their lives crossing the border, leaving everything behind, for love,” says Riggen. “For love of their families who they’re going to go reach, for love of their families who they leave behind and send money to. But it always has to do with love and family.”

“Una Noche” (2012) directed by Lucy Mulloy

There is no other option but the sea for the three Cuban youths in “Una Noche” who attempt to flee their impoverished island on a raft after one of them, Raúl, is falsely accused of assaulting a tourist. Lila follows her twin brother Elio, who is best friends with Raúl, but all is tested in the 90 miles it takes to get to Miami. The 2012 drama-thriller premiered in the U.S. at the Tribeca Film Festival, where it won three top awards; its real-life actors Anailín de la Rúa de la Torre (Lila) and Javier Nuñez Florián (Elio) disappeared during the screening while in a stopover in Miami, later indicating that they were defecting.

By this time, it was not uncommon to hear of Cuban actors and sports stars defecting to the U.S.

“[Anailín and Javier] are quite whimsical and I can see how they’d decide to do something like this,” said director Lucy Mulloy when the news broke in 2012. “But this is also an important life decision, and no one in Cuba takes it lightly.”

“I’m No Longer Here” (2019) directed by Fernando Frías de la Parra

Ulises (Juan Daniel García Treviño) shines as the leader of Los Terkos, a Cholombiano subculture group in Monterrey known for their eclectic fashion and affinity for dancing and listening to slowed down cumbias. But after a misunderstanding makes him and his family the target of gang violence, he flees to New York City, where he must learn to navigate the unknown world as an individual at its fringes. The 2019 film swept Mexico’s Ariel awards upon its release and was shortlisted in the international feature film category to represent Mexico at the 93rd Academy Awards.

The contemporary film provided a nuanced perspective on the topic of migration that did not always hinge on violence.

“The idea was to have a film that is more open and has more air so that you can, as an audience, maybe see that yes, violence is part of that environment,” said director Fernando Frías de la Parra to The Times in 2021. “But so is joy and growth and other things.”

“I Carry You With Me” (2020) directed by Heidi Ewing

Iván’s (Armando Espitia) life appears at a standstill — he’s a busboy with aspirations of becoming a chef, and a single dad to his 5-year-old son who lives with his estranged ex. But his monotonous life changes when he meets Gerardo (Christian Vázquez) at a gay bar, which shifts his journey into a blooming love story that traverses borders and decades. The story is inspired by the real-life love story of New York restaurateurs Iván García and Gerardo Zabaleta, strangers-turned-friends of director Heidi Ewing, a documentary filmmaker by training. The 2020 film first premiered at the Sundance Film Festival, where it won the NEXT Innovator and Audience Awards.

Nostalgia was a crucial element for the film, a poignant feeling for those unable to return.

“Sometimes I dream about when I was a kid in Mexico and that makes my day,” said García to The Times in 2021. “That’s all we have left, to live off our memories and our dreams.”

One of the oldest movie studios in Los Angeles is up for sale, perhaps to the newest generation of content creators.

The potential sale of Occidental Studios comes amid a drop in filming in Los Angeles as the local entertainment industry faces such headwinds as rising competition from studios in other cities and countries, as well as the aftermath of filming slowdowns during the pandemic and industry strikes of 2023.

Occidental Studios, which dates back to 1913, was once used by Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks to make silent films. It is a small version of a traditional Hollywood studio with soundstages, offices and writers’ bungalows in a 3-acre gated campus near Echo Park in Historic Filipinotown.

Kermit the Frog above the Jim Henson Company studio lot in Hollywood.

(AaronP/Bauer-Griffin/GC Images)

The seller hopes its boutique reputation will garner $45 million, which would rank it one of the most valuable studios in Southern California at $651 per square foot. A legendary Hollywood studio founded by Charlie Chaplin in 1917 sold last year for $489 per foot, according to real estate data provider CoStar.

The Chaplin studio known until recently as the Jim Henson Company Lot was purchased by singer-songwriter John Mayer and movie director McG from the family of famed Muppets creator Jim Henson.

Occidental Studios may sell to one of today’s modern content creators in search of a flagship location, said real estate broker Nicole Mihalka of CBRE, who represents the seller.

She declined to name potential buyers but said she is showing the property to new-media businesses who don’t present themselves through traditional channels such as television shows and instead rely on social media and the internet to reach younger audiences.

Occidental Studios, which dates back to 1913, was once used by Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks to make silent films.

(CBRE)

New media entrepreneurs may not often need soundstages, “but they like the idea of having the history, the legacy” of a studio linked to the early days of cinema, she said. It might lend credibility to a brand and become a destination for promotional activities as well as being a place to create content, she said. Mihalka envisions the space being used for events for partners, sponsors and advertisers as well as press junkets for new product launches.

Entertainment businesses located nearby include filmmaker Ava DuVernay’s Array Now, independent film and production company Blumhouse Productions and film and production company Rideback Ranch.

Neighborhoods east of Hollywood such as Los Feliz, Silver Lake, Echo Park and Highland Park have become home to many people in the entertainment industry, which Mihalka hopes will elevate the appeal of Occidental Studios.

“We’ve been seeing film and TV talent heading this way for a while,” she said, including executives who also live in those neighborhoods.

The owner of of Occidental Studios said it’s gotten harder for smaller studios to operate in the current economic climate that includes competition from major independent studio operators that have emerged in recent decades.

“Once upon a time, you did not have multibillion-dollar global portfolio companies swimming in the waters of Hollywood,” said Craig Darian, chief executive of Occidental Entertainment Group Holdings Inc., citing Hudson Pacific Properties, Hackman Capital Partners and CIM Group. “They are not content producers, but have a long history of providing services for multiple television shows and features.”

Competition now includes overseas studios in such countries as Canada, Ireland and Australia, he said. “When production was really robust and domiciled in Los Angeles, it was much easier to remain very competitive.”

Another factor threatening the bottom line for conventional studios is rapidly changing technology used to create entertainment including tools as simple as lighting.

“You used to know that equipment would last for decades,” Darian said. “The new tools for production are becoming obsolete in far shorter order.”

Writers’ bungalows at Occidental Studios.

(CBRE)

Nevertheless, Darian said, the potential sale “is not motivated by distress or urgency. Nothing is driving the decision other than the timing of whether or not this remains to be a relevant asset to keep within our portfolio. If we get an offer at or above the asking price, then we’re a seller.”

Darian said he may also seek a long-term tenant to take over the studio.

Occidental Studios at 201 N. Occidental Blvd. comprises over 69,000 square feet of buildings including four soundstages and support space such as offices and dressing rooms.

It’s among the oldest continually operating studios in Hollywood, used by pioneering filmmakers Cecil B. DeMille, D.W. Griffith and Pickford, who worked there as an actress and filmmaker in its early years. Pickford reportedly kept an apartment on the lot for years.

More recently it has been used for television production for such shows as “Tales of the City,” “New Girl” and HBO’s thriller “Sharp Objects.”

Local television production area declined by 30.5% in the first quarter compared with the previous year, according to he nonprofit organization FilmLA, which tracks shoot days in the Greater Los Angeles region. All categories of TV production were down, including dramas (-38.9%), comedies (-29.9%), reality shows -(26.4%) and pilots (-80.3%).

Feature film production decreased by 28.9%, while commercials were down by 2.1%, FilmLA said.

The latest round of California’s film and television tax credit program will provide government incentives to 48 upcoming projects, according to the California Film Commission.

The slate, which includes both major studio projects and independent films, is expected to employ more than 6,500 cast and crew members and 32,000 background performers, measured in days worked. These projects will pay more than $302 million in wages for California workers, the commission said Monday.

The projects are estimated to collectively generate $664 million in total spending throughout the state.

Of the awarded films, five are features from major studios, including the sequel to Sony Pictures’ “One of Them Days,” which is expected to receive almost $8 million in tax credits and spend $39 million in qualified expenditures.

An untitled Netflix project, which is set to film in California for 110 days, is expected to receive the largest credit of the slate at $20 million.

The rest of the awarded projects are independent, with 37 of them operating on budgets under $10 million. More than half of the films will be shot in the Los Angeles area, the commission said.

“California didn’t earn its role as the heart of the entertainment world by accident — it was built over generations by skilled workers and creative talent pushing boundaries,” Gov. Gavin Newsom said in a statement. “Today’s awards help ensure this legacy continues, keeping cameras rolling here at home, supporting thousands of crew members behind the scenes and boosting local economies that depend on a strong film and television industry.”

The announcement comes as the industry has expressed concern over the amount of production fleeing California in favor of other states or countries that offer more attractive tax incentives.

Late last year, Newsom proposed an increase to the state’s film and TV tax credit, upping the annual tax credit allocation from $330 million to $750 million in an attempt to keep production in California.

In March, the commission announced it was selecting a record 51 projects with tax incentives, marking the most amount of awarded films in a single application window.

When one man saw film crews working their magic in Benidorm, he and other desperate fans all jumped to the same sitcom-related conclusion – but some disputed it

Rumours are circulating in Benidorm that something exciting is happening – and it’s all about the TV show of the same name. The last series of Benidorm aired in the UK in 2018. For those not in the know, Benidorm is a sitcom that focuses on the adventures of a group of British holidaymakers staying at the Solana holiday resort in Spain.

Back in April, fans started speculating that the show would be making a comeback, despite the fact that the creator, Derren Litten, confirmed in 2019 that the tenth series would be the last. But when a TikToker spotted a film crew in Benidorm, he jumped to the conclusion that they must be filming the elusive 11th series.

Harry, a Brit in Benidorm who posts on TikTok as @harrytokky, wrote over the top of a video of a film crew on the strip: “Breaking news. Film crews are filming right now in Benidorm outside the Red Lion”.

At the bottom of the video, he penned: “Wait… are they filming Benidorm series 11 right now?! What do you think?”

He showed the camera crew filming, as he gushed: “Holy moly, this is unbelievable”. In the short clip, someone in the background could be heard saying they thought it was Benidorm series 11.

However, in the comments, people were sceptical, and one woman even put the rumour to bed with the information she’d managed to get from film crews.

“I doubt they’d film in peak season,” a sceptic wrote, but someone shared: “Another 4 weeks until peak season. They film in the ‘Solana’ with people on holiday there. They just close off one end of the pool”.

“They use the tourists as extras in Benidorm, it’s well known,” another man alleged.

Others shared that it couldn’t be Benidorm, because none of the beloved actors could be seen in the video. One fumed: “Not hard to tell if it’s Benidorm or not.”

And another penned: “Not to be a Debbie Downer, but Benidorm hasn’t officially been commissioned, so unless this is for an announcement ad (which I highly doubt), it’s not Benidorm unfortunately”.

But someone argued, saying: “Makes sense it would be Benidorm though, cause Darren and all the main cast have been cryptic as f*** lately online trying to hint to the fans about a season 11 coming, wouldn’t talk about it if there was no chance and now this. I’d say it’s likely I can’t lie”.

However, others said they’d seen the crew themselves and stopped to ask more questions. One tourist claimed: “We were walking down before and my dad asked the light crew. They said they can’t say what it is but it’s a Spanish program!!!!!”

Meanwhile, someone else alleged: “They’re making a film, not Benidorm. I asked them last night.”

Do you think season 11 of Benidorm will ever happen? Let us know in the comments…

Warning: This article discusses spoilers for the twisty new horror film “Barbarian.” If you haven’t seen it yet, check out our nonspoilery review here and more with the cast and director here.

That one-word title looms large over “Barbarian,” one of the most delightfully twisted horror films of 2022, in which a woman named Tess (Georgina Campbell) stumbles into a nightmare when she finds her rental house already occupied by a stranger.

It’s a roller-coaster horror ride filled with suspense, scares, surprising laughs and some of the most delicious cinematic twists since last year’s “Malignant.”

What Tess discovers in the basement leads her into a labyrinth of unimaginable horrors — some closer than you might think. But who’s the real monster in filmmaker Zach Cregger’s Airbnb-of-horrors solo feature debut?

Bill Skarsgard stars in “Barbarian.”

(20th Century Studios)

The nice guy and the meet-cute from hell

At first, signs point to said handsome stranger, Keith (“It” star Bill Skarsgard, also an executive producer, cannily playing off his Pennywise persona), who turns up the charm to get Tess to lower her guard and spend the night, else brave the storm outside. After a few nice gestures and good conversation, she ignores her instincts and says yes — even as Cregger’s script and Skarsgard’s delivery create a sizzling ambiguity around Keith’s motivations.

“My only note to Bill [Skarsgard] was, ‘Don’t lean into creepy. Lean into nice,’” Cregger said. “The nicer you are and the more disarming and friendly and appealing and nonthreatening that you behave, the more the audience is going to be convinced that you’re bad.”

Inspired in part by security expert Gavin de Becker’s book “The Gift of Fear,” “Barbarian” conjures a minefield of misogynist red flags for its heroine to navigate even before she crosses paths with shouting local Andre (Jaymes Butler), sitcom actor AJ (Justin Long) and a violent tunnel dweller known as the Mother (played expressively by Matthew Patrick Davis).

“[Keith] insists on bringing her luggage in, he makes her tea that she said she didn’t want, he says, ‘Pretty name,’” said Cregger. “These are not appropriate things to be doing in this situation. But he’s not aware of it, because he thinks he’s being nice.”

Is there something more sinister about Keith that Tess can’t see? Does it have anything to do with the doors that open and close in the middle of the night? The question hangs in the air as Tess makes a series of chilling discoveries in the basement, where a hidden door leads to a shadowy hallway and a secret room where very bad things have clearly occurred.

Beyond lies yet another door leading to the subterranean lair of the film’s apparent titular monster — the volatile Mother.

A creepy basement, or bonus square footage? Hidden rooms lead to unexpected terrors in “Barbarian.”

(20th Century Studios)

The mother under the stairs

“She was described as being 7 feet tall, naked, her face looking like it was the product of inbreeding, and having an impossible strength,” said Davis, the 6-foot-8-inch actor and musician behind the most surprising character in “Barbarian.” He was cast after a Zoom audition in which he stripped to his underwear and mimicked biting the head off a rat with a pickle he found in his fridge.

“I was very aware that this could be funny in the right way or the wrong way,” Davis said of his “Barbarian” performance. “When you’re in it, you have no idea how it’s going to be perceived. You’re aware that it’s a big swing and that it is bonkers and that, you know, you’re sitting there naked in Bulgaria with boobs taped to your chest. Are people going to buy this?”

Before filming began last summer, he received advice from legendary creature performer Doug Jones, including the fine line between physical expression and nonverbal overacting and another handy pro tip: Get prescription creature contacts made, else risk biting it while chasing your co-stars through those dark tunnels.

But Mother’s backstory is also the film’s most tragic. To inform her emotional state, Davis studied profiles of feral children and adults, diving deep into “a dark, disturbing YouTube rabbit hole” of research. As he sat in a chair for three hours getting into prosthetics and makeup each day, he watched the videos to prepare.

“It opened me up to the reality of the lives of people that have been deeply abused, raised in cages, raised like animals, kept in the dark and never spoken to in their formative years,” he said. “It allowed me to have empathy for this character. This is not just a scary character for scariness’ sake. If you’ve seen the movie, you know that she’s a victim.”

“I think that she’s the most empathetic character in the movie. She has never had a chance,” echoes Cregger, who also credits Davis with inspiring him to write certain gestures into Mother’s well-worn maternity VHS tape, which come full circle in the film’s bittersweet final scene. “And Matthew plays it with such tenderness.”

The sins of the father

After introducing Mother, the textbook horror movie monster we expect, Cregger challenges us throughout the film to reconsider who the actual barbarian of the story is. First seen in a Reagan-era flashback, Frank (Richard Brake, who starred recently in Amazon’s “Bingo Hell” and killed Bruce Wayne’s parents in “Batman Begins”) is her inverse — an average suburban family man on the outside and a true monster within.

Borrowing from serial killer films “Angst” (1983) and “Elephant” (both Gus Van Sant’s 2003 feature and the 1983 Alan Clark short of the same name), Cregger builds unease as the camera follows Frank to the store, where he stocks up on a suspicious grocery list, and as he stalks a young woman to her home.

It is revealed that he has kidnapped, raped and impregnated several women in the secret chambers beneath his house without repercussions for decades, and that Mother is the daughter of another of his victims, born into miserable captivity.

But it’s telling that it’s not Tess who learns Frank’s horrible truth in the film. Instead, it’s AJ (Long, playing deftly against type) whoruns from Mother to a section of the tunnels where even she dares not follow.

Justin Long stars as AJ, the owner of the rental house, in “Barbarian.”

(20th Century Studios)

Enter the Hollywood actor

Introduced cruising carefree down Pacific Coast Highway singing along to Donovan’s “Riki Tiki Tavi,” the narcissistic Hollywood star has recently stepped into his own version of a nightmare: an accusation of sexual assault that threatens to unravel his successful career.

“Because I’m an actor, and I know the world of actors very well, I was writing from an amalgam of people in my life,” Cregger said of conceiving the character of AJ. “I was trying to think of, ‘What’s this guy’s horror movie?’ Before he gets into the real horror movie — what’s the horror movie that he thinks he’s in? The collapse of your career and reputation due to your own bad behavior. This guy thinks his world is ending.”

AJ, who at first appears to be a ridiculous comedic figure, is revealed to be arguably the scariest character in the film. In Detroit to liquidate his rental home to cover his impending legal fees, he is the embodiment of male privilege and casual misogyny, his puffed-up bravado masking an inherent cowardice and refusal to take accountability for his actions. (Although not explicitly addressed in the film, Cregger says he deliberately wrote the men of “Barbarian” to be white males.)

When AJ discovers the ailing Frank and judges him by his brutal crimes, the audience is invited to wonder: Just how different is he from the monster staring back at him?

Frank, at least, seems to know he can’t escape what he’s done. AJ’s brief moment of clarity reverts to gaslighting self-preservation as he commits one final heinous act, attempting to hide his true nature behind a well-practiced nice guy veneer — a quality Long borrowed from watching men deliver empty apologies on “The Bachelorette.”

“There’s a glimmer of accountability,” said Long, “and I just love that Zach refuses to take the conventional way out.”

As for Tess, it’s her innate sense of empathy — the one that repeatedly sends her toward danger to help others, at her own peril — that helps her understand Mother before she sets them both free. “She’s someone that is used to traumatic situations and is able to understand how to survive in this situation,” said Campbell. “By the end of the film, I feel like she gets her own agency and is able to get out of the pattern she found herself in again and again and again.”

In the latest episode of The Envelope video podcast, Janelle James discusses her character’s arc on “Abbott Elementary,” and Aaron Pierre details the training required to master the “seamless” action of “Rebel Ridge.”

Kelvin Washington: Hey, everybody, and welcome to The Envelope. I’m Kelvin Washington alongside Yvonne Villarreal, also Mark Olsen. Great to have you two here this week, as usual.

Let’s get to it. Yvonne, someone I’ve never met, but I’m gonna be saddened if she’s not as pleasant or just as fun and hip as she seems: Janelle James. It just feels like I know her, even though I don’t. Tell me about your experience.

Villarreal: I have to tell you, I was super nervous that she was going to hit me with some one-liners about my appearance or something.

Washington: She’s got zingers.

Villarreal: No, but she was super lovely. She plays the blunt and hilarious principal, Ava Coleman, in “Abbott Elementary.” And she’s done an amazing job in that role, because she’s already been nominated three times for an Emmy. But Season 4 brought a lot of depth to this seemingly incompetent and uncaring character. We really see how she [goes] to bat for the students at the school, maybe in some unorthodox ways, but in ways that really help them. We also see a little bit of her relationship with her father. She also develops a relationship of her own, a romantic relationship. And — spoiler alert, I’m giving you guys time to dial down the volume —

Washington: Just hit the little 15-second thing or something.

Villarreal: Her character was fired this season. And I’ll just leave it at that. But we talked a little bit about all of that, all the development that we saw from her character this season.

Washington: Spoiler alert.

Villarreal: Sorry, I’m telling you, you gotta keep up, Kelvin.

Washington: Why is it me? I’m just saying it could be someone listening. Mark, I swing over to you and …

Olsen: I didn’t know she got fired.

Washington: Aaron Pierre. Let’s just say the three Washington girls in my household, my daughters, including my 3-year-old, “Aaron Pierre!” I mean, they had to do the whole, “That’s Mu-fa-sa!” for about a good month and a half.

Villarreal: Is that how you started the interview?

Olsen: I mean, we did talk about Mufasa, but I didn’t say it quite like that.

Washington: You didn’t do it? Oh, come on!

Olsen: Well, you know, the TV movie category in the streaming era has just really exploded. And it’s become a much more dynamic category than it had been in a few years previous. And “Rebel Ridge,” which stars Aaron Pierre, is really a great example of that. Written and directed by Jeremy Saulnier, the film stars Aaron as a man who comes to a small town. He wants to bail his cousin out of jail and he runs afoul of the crooked local sheriff. It just becomes this really muscular and exciting action thriller. Aaron brings a real gravitas and power to his role and has some very exciting fight scenes. And also it’s just such a great time for Aaron Pierre. As you said, he just was the voice of Mufasa in Barry Jenkins’ “Mufasa: The Lion King,” and then he also is gonna be seen in the next [season] of “The Morning Show,” and then is currently filming “Lanterns,” which is a DC Green Lantern property.

Washington: You can always kinda see certain folks have that moment where the boom happens, right? And then they just take off, and then someone’s gonna go, “Where’d this person come from?” Not knowing the whole, it takes 10 years to become an overnight success. He’s been putting in the work for years.

All right, well let’s get into Yvonne and Janelle James. Let’s start it now.

Janelle James in “Abbott Elementary.”

(Gilles Mingasson / Disney)

Villarreal: You’re in this big career moment. In what ways did you feel ready for it and in what ways has it just thrown you for a loop?

James: Ooh, I mean, I feel ready for this career moment — not only moment but this career from performing for 15 years prior to getting this role. I’ve been performing for a long time. What has thrown me for a loop is fame. I had no concept of what that meant. I had no concept of what being on a show that immediately takes off entails and what that feels like. That’s definitely been a surprise.

Villarreal: Can you break it down, what it does mean to be on a hit broadcast sitcom? How have you had to reconfigure your life?

James: Can’t go to Target — not that we are — can’t go to Target. I remember the first season, I was in Target and I was looking at doormats, as you do, and this guy comes up to me — I didn’t see him, I heard him say, “I got to hug you.” And I was like, “He’s not talking to me, because I don’t know this man.” And he picked me up. This huge guy picked me up off the ground and gave me a hug, which I’m sure was in love. But that had me shook. I remember I went to work the next day and it was on my face that I was shook, like, what just happened? And Tyler [James Williams], my co-star, was like, “What’s going on with you?” And I was like, “A stranger picked me up in Target to compliment the show.” He was like, ‘What are you doing in Target? You can’t go to Target anymore.” And that used to be my happy place. That was an adjustment, people knowing who I am when I’m in my jammies, trying to get some gummy bears.

Villarreal: I was with Chris Perfetti at a museum [for a story], and kids were on their field trips, coming up to him and ready to share what they’re learning in school.

James: And I’m way more famous than him. (That was a joke.)

Villarreal: What do you hear most often, and do you feel the need to be on as Ava because this is what people are expecting from you?

James: What do I hear most often? “I’m a principal.” “I know a principal like you.” “I also went to school.” I feel like that’s part of the reason why the show is a hit. Who hasn’t gone to school? It resonates with a lot of people because they’ve had the experience. And do I feel the need to [be like Ava]? Yes. You don’t want to disappoint people. I’ve learned to take people approaching me as Ava as a compliment, like, “Oh, I’m doing this character so well they think that it is me that they’re talking to.” They’re [thinking] I just stepped off the screen and now I’m in Ralphs for some reason — although she [Ava] would never be shopping for herself. I want to give them what they want and sometimes I don’t, so I just stay in the house.

Villarreal: Well, Ava Coleman, the character you play, has had so much character development this season and it was very earned too. She started out the series as this very polarizing character. She can be rude. She’s not politically correct. She really won over the audience over the run of the show. I’m curious what it felt like for you to really get in depth with her this season. We get more of her background. We see her open herself up to a relationship, and we see just how far she’s willing to go for the students.

James: I was really proud and honored that Quinta [Brunson, the show’s creator and star] and the writers trusted me with the material that they’re giving me. And, like you said, it’s earned. I feel like it was time. There’s been [a] little dribbling out of her character over the seasons, but this, to me, was an Ava season, basically. [I’m] happy that they trusted that I can bring these different flavors to her. And [it’s] just a testament to, like, the writing that this is a sitcom, it’s 22 minutes, and we’re doing so much story in such a short time; to be able to, for instance, reveal about her dad or have a dramatic moment and go right back into comedy [when] I’ve only been onscreen for maybe four minutes and you’ve already found out so much about her is amazing, and it makes me feel very talented.

Villarreal: What were your conversations like with Quinta?

James: I mind my business. I’ve been in a writers’ room before, and I know nobody cares what the actors think. I know we certainly didn’t when I was in one. I just try to let them do their gig, and because they have been doing such a good job, that’s why we’re a hit. They’ve been doing a great job with the show and developing the characters. I feel like each one of us gets a year. I feel first season was a Barbara [played by Sheryl Lee Ralph] year; second was Tyler [who plays Gregory]; then this one. I’m never worried or trying to involve myself. I’m so lucky that Quinta is like the coolest boss and that she gives me a heads-up for big stories, but I’m never like, “Whaaat?” or “Oh, I feel this …”

I know I have said things to her on the side that ended up happening. And then I’m just psyched that they decided to go with my idea. But I’m never like, “I have a pitch.” I would be annoyed with that. If it’s my show and I feel like I’m killing it, I don’t really want to hear a pitch from the actor. My job is to make those words feel real and convincing. And that’s it.

Villarreal: The father element [to Ava’s] story was a really a revelation for me. I’m curious what that unlocked for you. Ava’s father is played by Keith David. You were able to capture so much about the daddy issues that she has and where the maybe hardness or prickliness comes from.

James: Exactly what you said. It’s just more about her ethos and why she is like she is, why she’s so untrusting, why she’s short with people, doesn’t want to get close with anyone. Because she’s already been disappointed by somebody — as we find out in the date episode — that’s very important to her, and then abruptly went away to start another family. I thought that was a really great way to show that and to show her strength. He comes in, they have that moment, but then she’s back to Ava right away. I feel like Ava just like keeps it moving, to her detriment sometimes — like [she] doesn’t process. But it makes sense. That’s what I like about the writing for the characters on this show. Everything we do makes sense, it seems very real, it’s relatable. So many people wrote me and said, “I have this situation with a parent, and it struck me as real.” It also illuminated for me what I think is the most important relationship on the show is Janine and Ava and how we have similar backgrounds and parental issues, but we’re coming at it from different ways. She’s coming at it with endless optimism and nonpessimism. So we’re opposites sides of the personality spectrum, but I think as the show goes on, we’re moving closer and closer together. I think that’s so smart and [makes for] good story development.

Villarreal: We see that Ava gets fired at near the end of the season. Did Quinta or the writers prepare you that this was coming, or did you read it in the script?

James: So Quinta told me maybe a couple of days before, like, “You’re gonna get fired.” I was like, “OK.” I think I did say, like, “Oh, do I still get paid?” Which I meant. Do I still get paid? Because I thought that meant I wasn’t gonna be in the show at all. So I’m like, “Can I just pop in and get paid or…? Just let me know.” I wasn’t concerned about being off the show [permanently], because that didn’t make sense story-wise to me. I don’t know why they would have done that, and I don’t think she would have pitched it to me so casual if I was out of a job. But again, just trusting them, I was like, “Oh, if I’m getting fired, that means we about to shake something up, and I would love to see the reaction to it,” which was fabulous. That was one of the best days of my life.

Villarreal: It goes back to earning it. You’ve reached a point where the audience wants you back, wants to see Ava back. How do you think your background in stand-up and playing to either packed crowds or nearly empty venues and having to win over an audience, how did that prepare you for a character like Ava?

James: Exactly what you said! Exactly what you said. Even when it’s a packed house of people that love me, my stand-up is also very antagonistic, and that’s for my own pleasure because I do like that. I’m gonna say something that you might not agree with or you don’t find funny or touches you in a certain way, and you’re gonna love me by the end. Then I’m going to make you laugh. There’s a power in that. Stand-up has definitely prepared me for this whole Ava arc of people being like, “I don’t like her.” And I’m like, “Yeah, really? You don’t? OK, we’ll see Season 4.”

Villarreal: Can you tell me about a time where you just felt like you bombed [onstage] and how you turned it?

James: I thought you meant just bombed, because I have bombed and just went home and had this one tear. [But] bombed and came back … I feel like that’s every set, truly. I like to craft a set, especially if I’m doing an hour, where it has different levels. Of course, you want to crush the whole time, and I am, but I like my jokes to have downbeats and then ba-da-ba. I’m not really a one-liner, which is what Ava was for a long time, so that’s been a new muscle for me to do, where I’m just saying a line and have to hit those beats. But I like to do a joke that has different peaks and valleys to it and where people are like — you see them physically going back, then they’re like, “Ah, I love that.” That’s what I like about stand-up, that instant reaction and the feeling of winning.

Villarreal: Do you get the nerves doing “Abbott” the way you get the nerves of stand-up?

James: Yes. I feel like if you don’t get nerves, that means you don’t care. Did I say 15 years? Jesus. 15 years doing stand-up, I still get nervous beforehand. Four seasons doing “Abbott,” I still get nervous. It just means that I care about my performance.

Villarreal: “Abbott” is a single-camera show. You’re not filming in front of an audience. And you’re used to doing your stand-up in front of people. What is a signal to you that you’re delivering Ava the way you want? Is it hearing a cameraman, his laughter come through or breaking one of your scene mates?

James: All of that, but also I’m just confident in my comedic timing at this point. I don’t need a response. I love it. [But] I don’t need a response anymore to know that I’ve hit the beats. Comedic timing is a skill just like anything else.

Villarreal: I lack it, so I have no idea what that’s like.

James: Thank you for admitting, because everybody thinks they can do it. I’d like to hear a man say it — never will happen. I always say my confidence in myself and in what I’m doing is earned. I think that’s part of what some people don’t like in Ava. Some people don’t like confident people because it makes them think about themselves. I feel like it’s OK to be confident. There’s confidence and narcissism. My confidence comes from putting in the work. I have the respect of my peers, in comedy and now in acting. I know what I’m doing. And, so, I don’t really need the instant feedback, but it’s lovely to have it, which is why I’m back onstage.

Villarreal: Do you think she always had it?

James: Ava? Yeah. Especially like I said, the first season, I’m the joke machine. One-liners wasn’t my thing, but I know what the beats are. I know the jokes are supposed to sound like and how it’s supposed to hit and how we’re supposed to parry off of another statement. Can you say parry? Is that a word? I don’t know. Is that tennis? I might have made it up, but hey, confidence. It’s a word.

Villarreal: One of the great things about the show is how the writers build the characters with these seemingly small details that say so much about the characters. For Ava, she owns a party bus, or she dated Allen Iverson, or she hasn’t used capital letters in years. What are some of the details that you’ve loved learning about her?

James: One of my favorites is that her “Hello” sign [on her desk] is facing her and that was totally a mistake when we did that. I had turned it and props turned it back, and both me and Quinta was like, “No, that’s funny if it’s facing you,” and now that’s become a thing because that’s totally something she would do, like, “Don’t come in here.” Anybody that comes in, she’s like, “Don’t come in my office, I’m doing my side hustles; I’m not really trying to talk to you, so no hello. Hello to me. You’re doing a great job, Ava.” I love just the continuity of our props department is hilarious in that I think Season 1 we took the picture with Gritty and she says, “Oh, this is cute picture I’m gonna have to Photoshop Janine out.” Then behind me for the whole season [is the framed photo], not Photoshopped, [but what] I think is is is even more cutting: She literally cut her [Janine] out [of] the picture with scissors. That’s some real hate. I love that. And the fact that she does know all these people that she’s talking about. She’s popular outside the school. She has all these hookups. Just recently, she had her list of high-net-worth drug dealers that came in. But also, that rings true. That’s who she would know. And those are the high earners in a neighborhood like that. It’s just, again, excellent storytelling to remind people where we are. We’re in the inner city in Philly. That’s what she knows. She grew up in that neighborhood, she knows them. She know they got money. That’s her friends. But she just happens to be a principal.

Villarreal: As you mentioned earlier, you’ve been in writers’ rooms before — “The Rundown With Robin Thede,” “Black Monday.” How does being behind the scenes and knowing what goes into making the show inform you as a performer?

James: Well, like I mentioned earlier, I leave them alone. I know it’s a different process than what we’re doing. I know it’s difficult to craft out a whole season. I’ve never been on a show that’s done 22 episodes and we just [deliver] back-to-back bangers — that’s amazing [and] even more reason to leave them alone. They know what they’re doing; Quinta knows what she’s doing. I feel like Quinta has a vision, not only for each season but from the start of the show to when we eventually end it. And I know for me, as the seasons go on, I’ve become more comfortable with suggesting things and maybe improv-ing. But only when asked, and I always ask first. I always try to say what’s on the paper. I never try to be like, “Oh, what I think might be funnier…” or whatever, even though that’s what I believe. I always do what’s the paper first. And then I say, “Hey, I have a suggestion,” and then I get to find out if they chose mine or not, and they frequently did.

Villarreal: How were you in writers’ rooms?

James: How was I? I feel like you got inside information.

Villarreal: No, no, I don’t. I don’t. Please share with me that experience because it feels intimidating.

James: Nah — I mean, it depends. I guess for some people. I ain’t intimidated by much. I’m a joke machine. I’ve only written for comedies so far, so that’s my bag. Pitch, pitch. If you want a joke, I’m all day with it. I have a story. I thought you had inside information with “Black Monday.” When I first started — it’s usually men. Was I the only woman? No, there was two women in that writers’ room. One of my favorite jobs, by the way. Let me just say that before they think I’m talking s—. All the men are pitching, and I said, “Ugh, ugh.” And I had just gotten there because I came in, like, late to the season. And my boss, David Caspe, was like, “What’s going on with you?” And I was like, “None of this is funny. I’m just waiting to hear some funny s—” or something like that. He wrote it on the window, and it stayed there for the whole season. Seeing it written, I was like, “That’s outta line.” But I meant it.

Villarreal: How did your fellow writers feel about that?

James: They loved me. I just saw one just recently, hugged me and everything.

Villarreal: Would you ever want to write an episode of “Abbott”?

James: Yeah, I was just talking about that with someone. I don’t know if we’re allowed. I also don’t how it would work because I wouldn’t be in the room to build with them. They start way before we do, and I know each episode is assigned to a writer. But it’s already pretty formulated by then. I don’t know if I would write, like, a one-off type of situation, but however it would work out, I would love that.

Villarreal: I would love to see that. Which character would you be interested in writing for?

James: Ooh, I think Tyler’s character is so interesting and funny. Tyler’s comedic timing is so funny and underrated. Quinta too. I love the Janine character. And then myself, duh. Everybody. I feel like I know the least about Barb’s. I feel I would maybe write her too much as a caricature.

Villarreal: I can only imagine the lines.

James: Easter Sunday every line. Chris too. Just some real — ooh, I almost cursed. Some real high jinks for him.

Villarreal: Do what you want.

James: Some real f— high jinks. That was in me the whole time. I was like, “Oh, God, can I say one curse word?”

Villarreal: Let it out.

James: One of my favorite things to do as the cast is when we’re in a group in the kitchen, and we have like we’re all bouncing off of each other — those are my favorite scenes. So, yeah, anything.

Villarreal: What’s it like filming with the kids? You don’t do it as often as some of the other actors on the show.

James: It’s great. I’m just always constantly surprised and impressed with how chill they are. I know me, we do [a scene] three times, I’m like, “All right, I am done with that.” But they are engaged, and they’re doing it, and they’re good. And it’s so amazing because I know, especially first season, we had a lot of kids who had never acted before, who aren’t even professional actors. A lot of Black kids, which we want to represent where we are, it’s very hard to be a child actor. A lot of times, if you’re a professional child actor, your parent has quit their job because they’ve got to drive you around auditions, they’ve got to be on set with you. And a lot of Black kids don’t have that privilege. So to have all these Black kids there and it’s their first acting job, and they’re so good. And now they’ve grown with the show.

Villarreal: Do they call you Miss James?

James: No, they call me Ava. Which is fine. The kids are the least annoying as far as approaching me as a character. They can call me whatever. Of course, they think that’s who I am. And I don’t mind performing for them. You want me to do the TikTok dances with you and all that? I don’t want them to feel like they have a job. I think that’s lame. You’re a child, let’s have fun and reward them for being so chill.

Villarreal: When the show was entering its second season, you made the decision to move out here. I know Tyler had to persuade you not to buy a Mazda —

James: Oh, that story. I have regrets, actually. I love a Mazda.

Villarreal: I’m more curious what that transition was like, moving out here, that period of settling in.

James: I had lived in L.A. for short periods just for a job, and I would go back to New York. That’s what happened with the first season. I remember we did the pilot and I was like, “That was cool.” I went right back home. Then we got picked up. I truly didn’t even know what that meant. Then we like did 13 [episodes] in the middle of the pandemic, by the way — I feel like a lot of people, of course, have wiped that from their brain, but we did all of that with the masks and [personal protective equipment]. So that was just a whirlwind of things happening. Then all of a sudden it’s, “Oh, it’s a hit, 22 episodes next season.” So that’s nine months out of the year. I’m like, “Well, I guess I live in L.A. now.” It was a big transition. I’ve been in New York for a long time, and I am a New Yorker — you hear it? I’m a New Yorker. And my family is still on the East Coast and my friends and my nightlife and my community. So, yeah, it’s been a big transition and I’ve left all my comedians, and I hang with actors.

Villarreal: On the subject of the growth with Ava, is there a limit to the growth you would like to see with her? Is there something that you don’t want to see from Ava as the series progresses?

James: I’m not afraid that this is going to happen, because if it would have, it would’ve happened already, [but] one thing I’m very pleased with is, although we’re revealing more about her, her core personality stays the same. She’s still that b— I liked, especially when she got fired, it wasn’t this big [moment] — on her part — of like, “Woe is me! What am I going to do now?” She was instantly like, “Next.” Find out that wasn’t even her main job. I loved that. And the next time you see her, she’s rising from the audience for her speaking engagements. She had people picking up her checks. But that’s who she is. She’s a hustler. That’s what I really relate to with her. I get that, “Next. Let’s move.” And anyone who dares to let me go, that’s your loss because I’m killing it and doing multiple things, which is not only relating to being a hustler, at the core of that is relating to being poor. That’s what you got to do. You got to have multiple streams. That’s what all those lame guys are talking about. Multiple streams. I saw a couple people [say], “I hope that we find out she’s been like lying this whole time.” She’s too fab for that. It is very true that this person exists who is a hustler, who is as fly as she says she is and who has not only book smarts but street smarts, which I think is very underrated, or what’s the word I’m looking for, not valued as much as a book learning. She has both.

Villarreal: Before we wrap, what is it like to have your performance captured in meme form and live on in that way? Do you find yourself actively thinking about that now?

James: A lot of times, I’ll see a meme, and it’s not even me. I don’t see it as myself. Maybe the first season, I was like, “Oh, my God, I can’t open my phone without seeing myself.” I also was living in a place where the billboard was right across from my window. I’m like, “That’s weird.” It’s really been a real — they said I could curse — mindf— sometimes, seeing myself so much and not even just in the context of the show. That’s what a meme is. It’s in a thread about taxes and then it’s me. I’m like, “What does this have to do with it?” But now I’m taking it more like, “Oh, wow, this character is like iconic. Not like, is iconic.” She’s in the lexicon. She’s gonna be around forever. Anytime somebody plays [Juvenile’s] “Back That A— Up,” they think about me.

Villarreal: Talk about that moment.

James: It’s crazy. Everywhere I walk in — I walk into the Ralphs, “Back That A— Up” on there. Everybody like, “Hey, that’s for you.”

Villarreal: The way people like glommed onto it, like it was all over TikTok with captions like, “This is me in my kitchen.”

James: Again, excellent writing, excellent character development. Because that is the song. Nothing is written because we just want it to be. That is the jam that people such as Ava and people in that age group, you hear it, you on the dance floor, and it would make you act out at work. It’s true.

Villarreal: Was that so fun to do?

James: Man, I was so nervous.

Villarreal: Were you worried you were not backing it up right?

James: Not even backing it up right. I had to find a middle ground. Hit show, ABC. I feel like I could have went crazy and they would have cut it up. But I also wanted it to be — I know grandmas and kids are watching, and I wanted it to be funny too. So I was trying to do so much in that little time. We had Randall, he’s circling around. How that was shot, it was like cinematic.

Villarreal: The timing.

James: I had a silk blouse, I was like, “I can’t be sweaty, I still gotta look fly, the hair gotta flow, gotta be a little funny, gotta be little sexy, gotta be believable that I’m letting loose.” It was a lot. Again, we’re doing so much, and I’m doing so much, in a short amount of time. That scene was maybe 30 seconds. I had to convey all of that in a dance. I’m not even saying anything. I’m doing my little giggle because that’s what girls do. I had to make all of that and remember what that feels like to hear that song.

Villarreal: To go from something like that, which again, like the joy and fun of a scene like that to the depth we saw this season from her, like I said, with like the moments of vulnerability, it’s such a testament to you and what you’re delivering. So kudos to you. I can’t wait to see what’s ahead with Season 5.

James: Thank you so much.

Aaron Pierre in “Rebel Ridge.”

(Allyson Riggs / Netflix)

Mark Olsen: You’ve been so busy these past few years, I can imagine there are times when you’re like, “What am I here to talk about?” You have so many projects that you’ve been involved in.

Aaron Pierre: I’ve been very fortunate and very blessed on my journey. I’m just trying to keep it about a commitment to doing the best work I can. A commitment to evolution and growth and just enjoying the moment.

Olsen: When you came to “Rebel Ridge,” there initially was another actor in the project who left. I’m curious, for you did you feel like you were jumping onto a moving train? What was it like to get involved in a project that was already in motion?

Pierre: The first time I heard about this project was from [director] Jeremy [Saulnier] himself. My team had read this script, which we now know to be “Rebel Ridge,” and they were just really thrilled and excited to have something cross their desks that felt original, that felt exciting and that energized them in a way that perhaps they hadn’t been energized in a long time. So more or less immediately, I read the script, got onto a Zoom with Jeremy himself, and we just immediately connected. I think there is something to be said for instincts and something to be said for a gut feeling, and I think in both departments we had a positive experience of that with one another, and we felt as though this collaboration would only be conducive to an enjoyable time. And that’s certainly what was happening.

Olsen: Did you know Saulnier’s work from his other films, “Green Room” or “Hold the Dark,” were you familiar with him before this came to you?

Pierre: Yes, I was familiar. My favorite is “Blue Ruin.” I think that is a masterpiece. And I think that is Jeremy arguably at his happiest as a filmmaker and just getting to flex all of those different muscles and talents that he has. After seeing “Blue Ruin,” I always wanted to work with him. I didn’t know if it would ever come to fruition or if it would even be a possibility. And then “Rebel Ridge” came along, and we got rockin’ and rollin’.

Olsen: You mentioned instinct and how you have to learn to trust your gut working with someone like Jeremy, saying yes to a project. At the end of it, do you ever get some sense of what that instinct was? “That was what I was responding to, that’s why I wanted to do this”?

Pierre: I have this sort of checklist for myself, any project that I do, when I wrap. At the end of it, if I can say that I did my best to give my best, and also if I can say that I earned my own respect — which is a very challenging thing to do because I demand so much from myself and I’m hypercritical of myself — but if I can check those two boxes, then I feel satisfied. I don’t try and control or puppeteer anything beyond that because the space that I’m in, you’re in, we’re in, it is so subjective. But that’s why we love it. It’s art. And if I can have that peace in myself of, “I really gave everything I had,” then beyond that whatever happens is just additional blessings. And to have the response that “Rebel Ridge” received was beyond my wildest dreams, to be honest with you. Speaking candidly, I’m still processing it now. It was really moving. I think in part it was so moving because we poured so much into it. Everybody in every department. I’m not speaking exclusively about the cast. I’m not speaking exclusively about the director and the [producers]. I’m talking about everybody, from crafty to catering to transpo[rtation] to the teamsters to the crew. Everybody poured so much into it. We were all there every day from the beginning to the end. And I think there is something so beautiful about a project which is so physical and demands so much. That sort of brings you all together. So I’m just thrilled for everybody who poured themselves into this, and it really wouldn’t have been possible without everybody’s commitment to it and everybody’s commitment to excellence.

Olsen: When you say that you’re still processing your feelings about it, what’s changed for you? How do you feel your response to the movie has evolved?

Pierre: I think what I’m processing still is just the abundance of joy that it gave people and the reception it received. So many people have reached out to myself, to Jeremy, to others who were part of project and shared what it meant to them. And even requested a sequel. I just feel very grateful, and really the film wouldn’t be what it is today without the audience. And that really ties into why I do what I do — I don’t take myself seriously, but I do take what I do and my craft very seriously. And that is me attempting to honor the time and the energy that an audience gifts you with when they engage with a film, or they engage with a TV series, or they come to the theater and watch a play that you’re in. Life is busy. Life is hard. People have multiple things to juggle. So when people gift you with that time, I feel as though, as an artist, as an actor, whatever I want to describe myself as, I have a commitment to honor that. And that really just ties into the audience response. Just to get that, it feels really special.

Olsen: One of the things that’s so remarkable about your performance in the film is you remain so calm through the whole thing. No matter how wild the story and the action gets, you’re still very cool throughout. How did you come to that choice? Tell me a little bit about that essential nature of your performance.

Pierre: I arrived at the decision that I wanted Terry to feel like — I wanted his energy to be “loudest quietest person in the room.” And what I mean by that is, I wanted his silence to speak tremendous volumes. Somebody who steps into a room and they don’t say anything, but the fact that they don’t say anything is so loud. The fact that they are not demonstrative in their physicality is so loud, and almost their lack of emoting at times, their lack of being physical at times, is what indicates their capacity and is what tells you everything you need to know about them. That’s what I was playing with during the entire filming process. And it was a lot of fun to do so. That’s one of the beautiful things about a character that is so wonderfully written. Terry is written in such a dynamic way, in such a nuanced way and really such a generous way. And I have to credit that to Jeremy as the writer, he was so generous in how he created Terry, so that the individual that portrayed him had so much to work from.

Olsen: People often talk about Jeremy’s work as being slow-burn thrillers. That’s what they call them because they typically take a while to get to the action and to really pop off. Was pacing something that you talked about with Jeremy, both in how the story was going to be paced, but also how your performance was going to be paced? How do you capture that sense of the slow burn?

Pierre: As an actor, I think doing things in a slow pace is not something I have an issue with. If anything, directors have to say, “Hey, Aaron, let’s [pick it up]” because I like to enjoy moments in the context of portraying a character. So this was exactly the lane that I enjoy operating in, so far as action and thriller. I love enjoying those beats and enjoying those moments and really being unapologetic about it. So it was a lot of fun. The moment where, for example, Terry rides into where the sheriff’s office and he puts his pedal bike down and he just waits there calmly, and then Don Johnson comes out and he has this whole speech about P.A.C.E. and he breaks [the acroynm] down: I could be wrong, but I feel like a number of other action movies might have taken the route of, let’s just get straight to it. But I love that Jeremy had his character break down what was going to happen should this police department not adhere to his request. I love moments like that. I love that Jeremy was so unapologetic about it, and that gave me permission as his collaborator within this film to also be unapologetic.

Olsen: That is one of my favorite scenes in the movie as well, because it’s this very tense dialogue scene between you and Don Johnson, and then it suddenly erupts into a very physical, rough-and-tumble fight, a physical sequence between you, Don and another actor. I have to say, it sure looks like that’s really you in close combat with those two guys. What kind of training did you do for that? And what was it like to sort of go from paced, restrained dialogue to break into the action like that?

Pierre: Oh, it was so much fun. You’ll hear me commend and celebrate the crew a lot because they deserve it, they earned it, and they’re just phenomenal. I had a lot of help with the physicality of Terry, with the intellect of Terry, from the stunt department and from our advisors. [Marine Corps Martial Arts Program] instructors, for example. We really did a lot of physical training prior to production commencing. We did wrestling training, we did boxing training, we sparred. So I was really in my body. I’m already a student of martial arts, and I love it. It’s the most humbling thing in the world, and I just adore it. And I’ll always be a student of it. So that was really fun for me, to be able to do that for my job. By the time we got to choreography, it just felt somewhat fluid and easy because moving in that way was already in my body. That was how we warmed up, that’s how we would sometimes start days, that’s sometimes how we would end days. That’s sometimes how we would spend a day on the weekend. So it was really in me at that time. And again, it goes back to being the loudest quietest person in the room. I like that Terry goes from that speech to, “OK, you’ve now left me no option but to demonstrate everything I just told you I had the capacity to do, but I was hoping not to have to do.” There was sort of a running joke in the crew that Terry is there to teach manners.

Olsen: There also is a scene in the film where Terry, your character, is on a bicycle and he’s racing a bus. And I’ve seen some of the behind-the-scenes footage. You’re on this contraption that’s sort of a motorized cart that has a bicycle sticking off the front of it. But I have to say, I would 100% believe that you were, like, racing that bus.

Pierre: So here’s the thing. As you know, it takes a lot to make a film and it takes a lot to capture a scene like that. And all of these get cut together, and then it all just looks seamlessly like one take, or whatever it might be. But there was a version of that bus scene where I’m pursuing the bus on a pedal bike, just me. There’s a version of it where I’m pursuing the bus on a bike rig that is fueled by a motor, almost like a small go-kart. There’s a version of it where I’m quite literally attached to the bus and I am physically pedaling and exerting myself as hard as I can. And then [key grip] Big Bruce Lawson — who I love, by the way — he’s gently pushing me closer and closer to where the driver is, driving the bus. So all three of these versions require me to pedal, but not all of them am I making movement purely on my own accord. Then you put them all together and it looks seamless and wonderful.

Olsen: How surprised are you when you see the final product? Like, “Whoa, looks pretty good!”

Pierre: I have to be honest, with Jeremy, I wasn’t surprised. Jeremy’s Jeremy, he does wonderful work all the time as far as I’m concerned. I remember well before the film came out, he showed me an early cut, I think it was maybe like the first eighth of the film, and I was just really excited by it. And then to see the final product, I just commend him.

Olsen: There also are a number of scenes in the film where you disassemble a gun, a handgun, in your hands without really looking at it while you’re doing it, like you’re looking at another person while you are taking this gun apart. How hard is that? I don’t think I could ever manage that. Had you had any kind of weapons training from other projects?

Pierre: Not prior to “Rebel Ridge.” But I really had to immerse myself in that in order to achieve what I wanted to achieve, which was authenticity. And which was honoring Marines. That’s very important to me, as it’s very important to me with every role that I play to be authentic and to honor the individual and the history of that individual and their respective communities and units. So I really immersed myself in it, and even reflecting on it now, I’m surprised that I managed to even get to the level where I could do a scene and be looking you in the eye but [be] disassembling a gun or unloading a gun and unloading a magazine and putting that on the side. They really had me in sort of like a boot camp, and luckily I took to it. Because one thing about Jeremy is we will not move on from the scene until it’s seamless, and that’s what I love about him.

Olsen: Were there any other films that you and Jeremy would talk about or maybe that he showed you as a reference as you were working on this part?

Pierre: Actually, no. I mean, of course, he and I were aware of wonderful films that share similar themes. But for the whole maybe three-month shoot, we didn’t actually speak about any other action films. And I even remember Don, Jeremy and I one day, I think we were shooting the scene where Don’s character takes Terry with David Denman’s character to the hospital before they break the news to him. And Don actually doesn’t watch any films when he’s shooting a film. So that was kind of the energy, actually, while we were filming “Rebel Ridge”: Let’s just focus on creating this original film without influence or at least without any conscious influence. Of course, it’s art, so subconsciously you’re always going to be influenced; it’s going to be a version of [something]. And that’s inspiration. But we really just focused on “Rebel Ridge” and how do we want to tell the story of “Rebel Ridge.”

Olsen: Tell me more about working with Don Johnson. He seems like a super cool guy that it would be fun to meet and hang around with. But then it’s funny that he’s so good at playing this like really smug jerk of a crooked sheriff.

Pierre: Don and I get along really wonderfully. It’s so funny, I think actually the fact that we got along so well allowed us to create such tension and friction within the scenes because we were able to, outside of the context of the scenes, discuss what we wanted to achieve and how we wanted to achieve it. And then when the cameras started rolling, we had substance because we had everything we had discussed. And in those moments, it wasn’t Aaron and Don, it was really Terry and the sheriff. Jeremy creates this environment where it really is conducive to, I think, the best work, because he protects with everything the scene and the place where the scene is taking place. So you can have a laugh and a joke outside, because you know as soon as you step into that atmosphere, that arena, you’re in that world now.

Olsen: The story of the film is about a Black man coming into a Southern town. Race is a real undercurrent to the story, and yet it’s something that apart from one scene, where a Black female police officer calms down a group of white men, it’s never really explicit in the film. For you, what was it like to have that sort of bubbling underneath? Did you like the fact that there was never a big conversation about it, that’s not that scene in the movie. How did you feel about the way the story dealt with that?

Pierre: I think Jeremy did a brilliant job of navigating multiple important and pressing issues, all within one film. And I think he did it in a way that was not didactic. And I might even say that … allowed for it to resonate even deeper with audiences. Because versus the audience is feeling like they were being sat down, it was more of an invitation to come and engage in this conversation with us, within the context of the film.

Olsen: I want to go back to something you said earlier, that you feel on a project you have to earn your own respect. Can you talk a bit more about what means to you? What, in essence, does it take for you to earn your own respect?

Pierre: When an audience engages with your work in any capacity — theater, film, TV, radio, wherever it is — that’s them gifting you with their time. Time is precious. Time is valuable. I need to feel as though I’ve served the character. I need to feel as though I’ve served the story. I need to feel as though I’ve served the creative team. And I need to feel as though I’ve served the audience. Even if an audience walks away from something and they say, “That wasn’t for me,” that’s OK because the work is subjective. Just so long as the result of that wasn’t me not giving my all. If I don’t give my all, I’m not at peace. And I think that really just comes from gratitude for the opportunity. And that ferocity of work ethic that I have is just fueled by gratitude. I’m well aware that this is something that isn’t a given, to be blessed in a position where you can tell stories on this level with such wonderful creatives. I’ve been in a position where this is everything I wanted to do, all I could do, but I was unemployed and I was in a very financially challenging position and telling people I’m an actor, but I had nothing, nothing to show. So I think actually having all of those life experiences of those rough times, and those challenging times, when I am now in this position where I’m fortunate to have an abundance of options and things available for me to engage with, it’s just never missed on me. Ever. And it just would never feel right to take that for granted. What are we doing here? We have an opportunity, let’s give it our all. Maybe it lands flat, maybe it’s a major success, but whatever we’re doing, let’s not hold our punches, let’s give everything we’ve got.

Olsen: Last year, you were also in “Mufasa: The Lion King,” you did the voice of Mufasa. And as I understand it, you had previously worked with Barry Jenkins on “The Underground Railroad” —

Pierre: That’s big bro.

Olsen: And as I understand it, he initially reached out to you. He saw you onstage, and he sent you a DM.

Pierre: He did.

Olsen: As an actor, is that kind of what you’re hoping for? You can’t even really hope for that to happen, in a way.

Pierre: I thought somebody was messing with me, I promise you. We had just finished an evening performance at Shakespeare’s Globe on the South Bank, of “Othello.” Mark Rylance was playing Iago, Andre Holland was playing Othello. Phenomenal actors both. The whole team, phenomenal actors. And I just finished the evening show, and I think I was coming out of the underground at Earl’s Court Station and my phone pinged. And it was a DM from Barry, and I was like, “This has got to be a joke. Somebody has heard me talking about how much I want to collaborate with him, heard me talking extensively about what he achieved with ‘Moonlight.’” And then I opened it and it had the little verified blue tick, and I was like, “This is actually Barry Jenkins.” And he was just saying, “Hey, man, I really enjoyed your work on the stage as Cassio, I have this project upcoming. And I would like to engage in a conversation with you about it.” That was a really special moment for me.

Olsen: With “The Lion King” in particular, what was it like taking on the role of Mufasa, originally voiced by James Earl Jones? Was it a challenge for you to find your own way, essentially your own voice, for that character?

Pierre: First and foremost, James Earl Jones originated Mufasa and is and always will be synonymous with Mufasa, and his portrayal is just so beautiful and timeless. And it’s not only with me for the rest of my life but with all of us for the rest of our lives. And most importantly, it can never be matched. That actually brought me a lot of peace entering that conversation and entering that creative process. Knowing that is in its own stratosphere, and rightly so, it gave me a lot of peace and it gave me permission to find my own version. And I hope that he would be proud of the version that I discovered, and I hope that he would feel as though we did everything we could to uphold the legacy that he established and the legacy that he built. Because that was our intention and that was what we were striving for. And, just on a separate note, James Earl Jones, he’s the top of the mountain for me. I study him. He’s just the top of the mountain for me.

Olsen: As we’re having this conversation, you’re in the midst of production on “Lanterns,” which is a very different production from “The Lion King.” I’ve seen this iteration of the Green Lantern story described as a sci-fi “True Detective.” And I’m curious just how that project is going for you and what the experience so far of shooting that has been like?

Pierre: It’s been great. It’s been a really beautiful process and experience. Everybody is so close. Everybody is so tight and connected. And I think that is because we all love this project.

Olsen: You also are in the upcoming season of “The Morning Show,” again a very different project, and I’m curious, for you as an actor, do you feel like this has kind of become your moment? As an actor you work so long and so hard. What is it like for you when it seems like suddenly so many things are lining up for you?

Pierre: It’s very surreal. It’s very surreal. There was a time when there was nothing available to me, despite me trying to have things available to me. So it’s very surreal. Again, I’m abundantly grateful, and I think it’s about just utilizing these moments to learn, to grow, to evolve. And just to serve this space as best I can. It’s impossible not to have an amazing time on “The Morning Show.” All of those wonderful artists and creatives, we had a really great time.

There is no single figure in television history whose longevity and influence match Barbara Walters’.

She became a star on NBC’s “Today” in the early 1960s, raising the stature of the morning franchise. She opened doors for women as a network anchor and turned newsmaker interviews into major television events — 74 million tuned into her 1999 sit-down with Monica Lewinsky. She created one of daytime TV’s longest-running hits with “The View,” which evolved into a major forum for the country’s political discourse.

“The audience size that Barbara was able to capture and harness is unmatched in today’s world,” said Jackie Jesko, director of the new documentary “Barbara Walters: Tell Me Everything,” debuting Monday on Hulu after its premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival earlier this month. “Everything she did sort of made a difference.”

Jesko’s feature — produced by Brian Grazer and Ron Howard’s Imagine Documentaries and ABC News Studios — is the first in-depth look into Walters’ storied career. The film also serves as a sweeping historical review of the decades-long dominance of network news that made figures such as Walters a gatekeeper of the culture, as Jesko describes her.

Before the advent of social media and podcasts that allowed celebrities to control their messages, going through the X-ray machine of a Barbara Walters interview delivered exposure on a massive scale. David Sloan, a longtime ABC News producer who worked with Walters, recalls how the screen images of her specials flickered through the windows of Manhattan apartment towers.

“Tell Me Everything” came together not long after Walters died at the age of 93 in 2022. Sara Bernstein, president of Imagine Documentaries, approached Betsy West, executive producer and co-director of the Julia Child documentary “Julia,” about taking on a Walters project. Sloan, who oversaw an Emmy-winning tribute after Walters’ death, also wanted a deeper exploration into the impact of her career. West, also a former Walters colleague, and Sloan became executive producers on the film. “Tell Me Everything” taps deeply into the ABC News archives, which contain thousands of hours of interviews Walters conducted over her 40 years at the network.

Former President Richard M. Nixon during an interview with Barbara Walters in 1980 for ABC.

(Ray Stubblebine / AP)

Imagine not only gained access to program content but also outtakes that give parts of the film a cinema vérité-like look at Walters on the job. The newly unearthed footage provides some surreal moments, such as Walters — in a pink Chanel suit — exploring the damaged palace of Libya’s deposed leader Moammar Kadafi.

“The archive gave us a the perfect canvas to relive her scenes and her moments,” Bernstein said.

Walters’ story also gives a guided tour of the obstacle-ridden path women faced in the early days of TV news when it was dominated by patriarchy and self-importance. Female reporters were relegated to writing soft features and kept at a distance from hard news. But Walters shattered those barriers through her grit and wits. She toiled as a writer in local TV and a failed CBS morning program before landing at NBC’s “Today” in 1961. (“They needed someone they could hire cheap,” she said.)

Walters went from churning out copy for the program’s “Today Girl” to doing her own on-air segments, including a famously beguiling report on a Paris fashion show and a day-in-the-life look at being a Playboy bunny. More serious assignments came her way.

The morning viewing audience loved Walters even though she didn’t believe she was attractive enough to be on camera. Her career trajectory was slowed down only by male executives unwilling to embrace the idea that a woman could be the face of a network news operation.

Harry Reasoner with Barbara Walters during her first broadcast as co-anchor of ABC Evening News on Oct. 4, 1976.

(Associated Press)

By 1971, Walters was the main attraction on “Today” when she sat alongside host Frank McGee every morning. But she was denied equal status.

A respected journalist with the demeanor of an undertaker, McGee insisted to management that he ask the first three questions of any hard news subject who appeared on “Today” before Walters could have a chance.

The restriction led to Walters going outside the NBC studios to conduct interviews where her subjects lived or worked. The approach not only gave her control of the conversations but added a level of intimacy that audiences were not getting elsewhere on television.

Walters also had written into her contract that if McGee ever left “Today,” she would be promoted to the title of co-host. NBC brass agreed to the provision, believing McGee was not going anywhere.

But McGee was suffering from bone cancer, which he had kept secret. He died in 1974 and Walters was elevated to co-host, making her the first woman to lead a daily network news program. (Or as Katie Couric candidly puts it in the film, “She got it literally over Frank McGee’s dead body.”)

Walters made history again when she was poached by ABC News in 1976. She was given a record-high $1-million annual salary to be the first woman co-anchor of a network evening newscast, paired with Harry Reasoner, a crusty and unwelcoming veteran. Walters was mistreated by her colleague and roasted by critics and competitors such as CBS News commentator Eric Sevareid, who, with disgust in his voice, described her as “a lady reading the news.”

The evening news experiment with Reasoner was a short-lived disaster, but Walters found a supporter in Roone Arledge, the ABC Sports impresario who took over the news division and had an appreciation for showmanship. He recognized Walters’ strengths and made her a roving correspondent.

Barbara Walters arranged a joint interview with Egypt’s President Anwar Sadat and Israel’s Prime Minister Menachem Begin in 1977.

(ABC Photo Archives / Disney General Entertainment Con)

Walters scored a major coup in 1977 when she was the first TV journalist to speak jointly with Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin during Sadat’s historic visit to Jerusalem.

“She was a household name in the Mideast,” Sloan said.

Over time, Walters would become known for her prime-time specials, where lengthy interviews with world leaders aired adjacent to conversations with movie stars. She could be a blunt questioner in both realms, asking Barbra Streisand why she chose not to get her nose fixed and former President Richard M. Nixon if he wished he had burned the White House tapes that undid his presidency (“I probably should have”).

News purists clutched their pearls, but the audience welcomed it. “She had a vision back then that celebrities are news,” said Walt Disney Co. Chief Executive Bob Iger in the film. “She was practicing the art of journalism when she was interviewing them.”

The film explains how Walters developed an understanding of celebrities after growing up around her father’s nightclub, the Latin Quarter, a hot spot in Boston. Sitting in the rafters above the floor show, she observed how audiences responded as well.

Barbara Walters with Barbra Streisand, whom the journalist interviewed for a special in 1976.

(ABC Photo Archives / Disney General Entertainment Con)

Even though Walters’ programs earned significant revenue for ABC News, she still had detractors, including the network’s star anchor Peter Jennings. A clip from the network’s political convention coverage in 1992 shows Jennings surreptitiously flipping his middle finger at her following an on-air exchange.

But Walters was unstoppable, and as the 1980s and 1990s progressed, she became a mother confessor for perpetrators and victims of scandal. During a memorable jailhouse meeting with the Menendez brothers in which Eric describes himself and Lyle as “normal kids,” a stunned Walters replies, “Eric, you’re a normal kid who murdered his parents!”

As always, she was speaking for the person watching at home.

“She always wanted to ask the question that was percolating in the brain of someone who didn’t have the opportunity or was too afraid to ask,” said Meredith Kaulfers, an executive vice president at Imagine Documentaries.

Walters became a pioneer for women broadcasters out of necessity. While in her 20s, her father’s nightclub business collapsed and she became the sole source of financial support for her family, which included her mentally disabled older sister. The terror of the insecurity she felt during that period never left.

President Barack Obama speaks to Barbara Walters during his guest appearance on ABC’s “The View” in 2010.

(Pablo Martinez Monsivais / Associated Press)

“There was a survival instinct in her that drove her,” said Marcella Steingart, a producer on the film. “Not necessarily on purpose, but in her wake, she opened doors for people.”

“Barbara Walters: Tell Me Everything” is not a hagiography. The film explores her fraught relationship with her adopted daughter Jacqueline, who did not sit for an interview. Walters’ unhealthy obsession with colleague and rival Diane Sawyer is covered, too, as is her willingness to use the social connections she developed through her career, and not just to land big interviews.

Walters had a friendship with unsavory lawyer Roy Cohn, who pulled strings to make her father’s tax problems go away. She carried on a secret romance in the 1970s with a married U.S. senator — Edward Brooke — while she was a fixture in national political coverage.

While the film draws on interviews where Walters laments not being able to have both a successful career and a family life, Jesko sensed no regrets. “I think if she could live her life over again, she wouldn’t change anything,” Jesko said.

Yes, Tom Cruise will soon own an Oscar. But has he ever flown a Boeing 737 with 150 passengers on board?

I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter, here to explain why Nathan Fielder should be the Top Gun of this Emmy season.

A show too singular to ignore

The second season of Nathan Fielder’s brilliantly bonkers “The Rehearsal” opens inside a commercial jet cockpit where the plane’s captain and first officer are having a tense exchange as they prepare to land at a fogged-in runway. The first officer suggests they’re off course. The captain disagrees but is soon proved wrong as the plane crashes. We see the pilots slumped in the cockpit, dead. Then the camera pans to Fielder, surveying the fiery aftermath, a disaster he just re-created in a simulator on a soundstage.

With that prelude, it may seem strange to tell you that I laughed out loud as many times watching “The Rehearsal” as I did any other TV series this season. Not during the simulated disasters, of course, which Fielder used to illustrate what he believes to be biggest issue in airline travel today — pilots failing to communicate during a crisis.

So, yes, “The Rehearsal” is about airline safety. Mostly. But Fielder is a master of misdirection. There is no way you can predict where he’ll direct his premise, and I found myself delighting in utter surprise at the tangents he took in “The Rehearsal” this season.

An alternate biopic of pilot Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger, with Fielder playing Sully from diapered baby to the Evanescence-loving hero landing in the Hudson River? Yes! Re-creating the German subsidiary of Paramount+ as a Nazi headquarters? OK! Vacuuming up air from San Jose to help train a cloned dog in Los Angeles while he attempts to understand how the nature-vs.-nurture dynamic might play out in human behavior? Ummmmm … sure. We’ll go with it!

Nathan Fielder takes the controls in “The Rehearsal.”

(John P. Johnson / HBO)

With Fielder’s incisive mind, the detours are everything. Even the destination this season came as a jolt. Yes, it involves that Boeing 737 I mentioned in the intro, and, no, I’m not going to elaborate because I still feel like not enough people have watched “The Rehearsal.” The series’ first two seasons are available on HBO, as are all four seasons of Fielder’s Comedy Central docuseries “Nathan for You,” which had Fielder “helping” small-business owners improve their sales. (Example: Pitching a Santa Clarita liquor store owner that he should sell booze to minors but just not let them take it home until they turned 21.)

The humor in “The Rehearsal” can be just as outrageous as “Nathan for You,” but the overall tone is more thoughtful, as it also explores loneliness and the masks we all wear at times to hide our alienation.

For the Emmys, HBO has submitted “The Rehearsal” in the comedy categories. Where else would they put it? But the show is so singular that I wonder if even its fans in the Television Academy will remember to vote for it. They should. It’s funny, insightful, occasionally terrifying, utterly unforgettable. And I hope Isabella Henao, the winner of the series’ reality show competition, goes places. She sure can sing!

Tom Cruise, Dolly Parton will have their Oscar moments

Meanwhile, that other pilot, Tom Cruise, will finally receive an Oscar, an honorary one, in November at the Governors Awards, alongside production designer Wynn Thomas and choreographer and actor Debbie Allen.

Dolly Parton, singer, actor and beloved icon, will be given the annual Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award for her charitable work.

Cruise has been nominated for three acting Oscars over the years — for playing Marine Corps Sgt. Ron Kovic in Oliver Stone’s 1989 antiwar movie “Born on the Fourth of July,” the sports agent who had Renée Zellweger at hello in Cameron Crowe’s 1996 classic “Jerry Maguire” and the chauvinistic motivational speaker in Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1999 opus “Magnolia.” Cruise was also nominated as a producer for 2022’s dad cinema favorite “Top Gun: Maverick.”

Tom Cruise, left, and Paul Newman in “The Color of Money.”

(Fox Broadcasting Company)

Cruise should have won the supporting actor Oscar for “Magnolia,” a ferocious turn in which he harnessed his strutting brashness to play an odious character hiding a deep well of pain. It came the same year as his star turn opposite then-wife Nicole Kidman in “Eyes Wide Shut.” Not a bad double feature! Instead, Michael Caine won for “Cider House Rules” during an Oscar era in which there was seemingly no prize Harvey Weinstein couldn’t land. It wasn’t even Caine’s first Oscar; he had already won for “Hannah and Her Sisters.”

Cruise has devoted himself to commercial action movies, mostly of the “Mission: Impossible” variety, for the past two decades. He did recently complete filming a comedy with director Alejandro González Iñárritu, scheduled for release next year.

It’d be funny if Cruise wins a competitive Oscar after picking up an honorary one. It happened with Paul Newman, Cruise’s co-star in “The Color of Money.”

Read more of our Emmy coverage

Dispatches from northern China, Jia Zhangke’s movies constitute their own cinematic universe. Repeatedly returning to themes of globalization and alienation, the 55-year-old director has meticulously chronicled his country’s uneasy plunge into the 21st century as rampant industrialization risks deadening those left behind.

But his latest drama, “Caught by the Tides,” which opens at the Frida Cinema today, presents a bold, reflexive remix of his preoccupations. Drawing from nearly 25 years of footage, including images from his most acclaimed films, Jia has crafted a poignant new story with an assist from fragments of old tales. He has always been interested in how the weight of time bears down on his characters — now his actors age in front of our eyes.

When “Caught by the Tides” premiered at last year’s Cannes Film Festival, critics leaned on a handy, if somewhat inaccurate, comparison to describe Jia’s achievement: “Boyhood,” which followed a young actor over the course of 12 years, a new segment of the picture shot annually. But Richard Linklater preplanned his magnum opus. Jia, on the other hand, approached his film more accidentally, using the pandemic shutdown as an excuse to revisit his own archives.

“It struck me that the footage had no linear, cause-and-effect pattern,” Jia explained in a director’s statement. “Instead, there was a more complex relationship, not unlike something from quantum physics, in which the direction of life is influenced and ultimately determined by variable factors that are hard to pinpoint.”

The result is a story in three chapters, each one subtly building emotionally from the last. In the first, it is 2001, as Qiaoqiao (Zhao Tao) lives in Datong, where she dates Bin (Li Zhubin). Early on, Qiaoqiao gleefully sings with friends, but it will be the last time we hear her voice. It’s a testament to Zhao’s arresting performance that many viewers may not notice her silence. She’s so present even without speaking, her alert eyes taking in everything, her understated reactions expressing plenty.

Young and with her whole life ahead of her, Qiaoqiao longs to be a singer, but her future is short-circuited by Bin’s text announcing that he’s leaving to seek better financial opportunities elsewhere. He promises to send word once he’s established himself, but we suspect she may never see this restless, callous schemer again. Not long after, Bin ghosts Qiaoqiao, prompting her to journey after him.

“Caught by the Tides” richly rewards viewers familiar with Jia’s filmography with scenes and outtakes from his earlier movies. Zhao, who in real life married Jia more than a decade ago, has been a highlight of his movies starting with his 2000 breakthrough “Platform,” and so when we see Qiaoqiao at the start of “Caught by the Tides,” we’re actually watching footage shot around that time. (Jia’s 2002 drama “Unknown Pleasures” starred Zhao as a budding singer named Qiaoqiao. Li also appeared in “Unknown Pleasures,” as well as subsequent Jia pictures.)

But the uninitiated shouldn’t feel intimidated to begin their Jia immersion here. Those new to his work will easily discern the film’s older footage, some of it captured on grainy DV cameras, while newer material boasts the elegant, widescreen compositions that have become his specialty. “Caught by the Tides” serves as a handy primer on Jia’s fascination with China’s political, cultural and economic evolution, amplifying those dependable themes with the benefit of working across a larger canvas of a quarter-century.

Still, by the time Qiaoqiao traverses the Yangtze River near the Three Gorges Dam — a controversial construction project that imperiled local small towns and provided the backdrop for Jia’s 2006 film “Still Life” — the director’s fans may feel a bittersweet sense of déjà vu. We have been here before, reminded of his earlier characters who similarly struggled to find love and purpose.

The film’s second chapter, which takes place during 2006, highlights Qiaoqiao’s romantic despair and, separately, Bin’s growing desperation to make a name for himself. (This isn’t the first Jia drama in which characters dabble in criminal activity.) By the time we arrive at the finale, set during the age of COVID anxiety, their inevitable reunion results in a moving resolution, one that suggests the ebb and flow of desire but, also, the passage of time’s inexorable erosion of individuals and nations.

Indeed, it’s not just Zhao and Li who look different by the end of “Caught by the Tides” but Shanxi Province itself — now a place of modern supermarkets, sculpted walkways and robots. Unchecked technological advancement is no longer a distant threat to China but a clear and present danger, dispassionately gobbling up communities, jobs and Qiaoqiao’s and Bin’s dreams. When these two former lovers see each other again, a lifetime having passed on screen, they don’t need words. In this beautiful summation work, Jia has said it all.

In the latest episode of The Envelope video podcast, we sit down with “Paradise” creator Dan Fogelman in front of a live audience at the Newport Beach TV Festival to hear what he has planned for Season 2 of Hulu’s buzzy dystopian drama and much more.

Kelvin Washington: Hey, everybody, welcome to this week’s episode of The Envelope. Kelvin Washington here alongside Yvonne Villarreal and Mark Olsen as usual. You two, we want to have a conversation about Emmy nominations. We know they’re gonna be coming up — this will be the last episode before we find out who is nominated — so you got some some bold takes? You got some things on your mind? Don’t roll your eyes!

Yvonne Villarreal: No, not rolling! I’m getting ready. You know, streaming obviously still dominates a lot of the conversation, whether it’s “Severance” or “The Studio.” But I’m going to say, I look forward to seeing my girl Kathy Bates get a nomination for “Matlock” on CBS. That is my prediction and I’m sticking with it.

Washington: All right, Mark, you got a bold one for us?

Olsen: I’m going to go with Matt Berry for “What We Do in the Shadows.” The show just wrapped up its sixth and final season. And he’s just been such a comedic powerhouse on that show. And season after season, he’s been so inventive, so fun. And I just think it’d be great to see him recognized for the totality of the work that he’s done there.

Washington: The person I’m gonna name is in this show you mentioned, “Severance.” Tramell Tillman. Milchick. There’s a moment on my other show that I do, I danced and everyone said, “Oh, you’re Milchick! What do you think, you’re Milchick?” Everyone’s just screaming — it was a whole thing. That was one of the signature moments of the season, I think.

Villarreal: Why don’t you ever do that here?

Washington: First off, it’s early. You don’t know what I’m gonna do the rest of this episode. You don’t know.

Villarreal: I don’t have a drumline here.

Olsen: He’s in the new “Mission: Impossible,” “The Final Reckoning,” and I saw that at a public [screening], and the moment he came onscreen, people cheered in the audience. Like he has such a fan base from the show.

Villarreal: Well earned.

Olsen: Beautiful thing for him! Let’s talk about, you had something cool you got to do, Yvonne, speaking with someone that you’re familiar with, Dan Fogelman, showrunner for “Paradise.” You got to this at the Newport Beach TV Festival, where you sat down and had this conversation in front of a live audience. He got a showrunner of the year award as well. It was really cool, right?

Villarreal: It was very scary. I do like audiences, but I do get a little nervous. Speaking with somebody that I’ve talked to many times helps ease the sort of stage fright there. Dan Fogelman is somebody that I have spoken to a lot of times over the years because I covered “This Is Us” from beginning to end.

And it’s funny because I remember, last year I was on the set of “Only Murders in the Building,” which he is a producer on, and they were filming on the Paramount lot for their sort of trip to L.A. last season. And he had just started production on “Paradise” on the same lot. And he took a break and headed over to our neck of the woods on the Paramount lot to show everybody a cut of a scene that they had just wrapped for “Paradise.” He was so excited to share that with everyone, and he’s like, “Yvonne, you gotta see this, you gotta see this,” and it’s Sterling K. Brown doing a scene and you’re just in awe of it. This show has political intrigue, there’s a murder mystery, there’s the destruction of the planet, and the premise is Sterling K. Brown plays a Secret Service agent who’s accused of killing the president and is sort of trying to unravel who was really at fault here, and that’s just on the surface. There’s a lot more to it than that because Dan Fogelman is known for his twists, and he didn’t disappoint here. So it was really fun to unpack that with him in front of an audience

Washington: A whole lot of twists in that show, for sure. All right, without further ado, let’s get to that chat with Dan Fogelman. Here’s Yvonne.

Sterling K. Brown in “Paradise.”

(Brian Roedel / Disney)

Villarreal: Dan and I go way back.

Fogelman: “This Is Us” days.

Villarreal: I had the great privilege of covering “This Is Us” from beginning to end. And that show, I would often come to you and say, “Why are you making me cry?” And “Can you make me cry some more?” This show, it was very much, “What is going on here?” Talk about the genesis of this show, because it actually predates “This Is Us,” the kernel of the idea.

Fogelman: I’d started thinking about this show long before “This Is Us.” When I was a young writer in Hollywood, they start sending you on all these “general” meetings, which is, basically, you go to meetings with important people with no agenda. And it can be a very awkward dance. You tell your same origin story a hundred times. At one of these meetings, I was meeting with a captain of industry, a very important person. As that person was speaking to me, I was not hearing anything he or she was saying. I was calculating how much money I thought they were worth. I was thinking, “Is this a billionaire? Am I in the room with a billionaire?” And on the way home — this was a long time ago — it was in the shadow of 9/11, and a nearby construction site dropped something, and it made a loud boom, one of those booms that shakes you for a second, and I thought to myself, “Wow, when the s— really hits the fan, that guy’s gonna be as screwed as all the rest of us, because all the people that must take care of him are going to run after taking care of their own people.”

I started thinking about that. I started to think about a Secret Service agent and a president, somebody whose job it is to take a bullet. And this idea of telling a murder mystery of an ex-president underground and learning later that the world has ended above. That was the impetus behind it. I kind of put it away. I wrote “This Is Us.” I talked with some big sci-fi writers about the idea, thinking maybe I could produce it for somebody better than me to make it. And then when “This Is Us” ended, I was like, “I’m gonna try and do that one.” And so it took like 15 years to come back around.

Villarreal: What do you remember about those conversations with the other sci-fi writers?

Fogelman: People thought, “Oh, that’s a cool idea.” But that’s as far as it goes because that’s lot of work to then figure out the cool idea. And that became the problem with this show. I wrote it and I had to sit down and figure out how we were going to do it, and what was the tone going to be, and what were the twists and turns. They all kind of said, “Thanks but no thanks,” because it seemed really hard, I think. I just waited and did it. It takes a while and it takes a village; it takes a lot of writers sitting with you and figuring out how to shape the world.

Villarreal: How much was it tugging at you during “This Is Us”?

Fogelman: During “This Is Us,” I was pretty in “This Is Us” and a couple of other projects at the time. The last two years were like fraught with COVID, and there was no more in-person stuff, and everybody was wearing masks on set. It was a really tough two years of a six-year show. At the end, in the final season, we did 18 episodes and I had 18 Post-it notes on my wall in my office, and each time I would finish a script, I would “X” it out. And each time I’d finish an edit, I’d “X” it out. Because that was how much left I had to do. They’re still on my wall in my office to this day because it was so exhausting and it was such a big accomplishment to just be done with that, when it was over, I was like, “Oh, now’s the part where I take the Post-it notes off the wall.” And I never did. They’re just still hanging on by a thread there. But then I took a break for six months, and I started getting the itch to write something. That idea kept poking through and poking through. I just wrote it without telling anybody first.

Villarreal: One of my favorite things about a creator like Dan, a writer like Dan, is you’re that person who likes to watch people watch something. During “This Is Us,” I remember you would be so excited about a scene or something, and you’d be like, “You gotta see this,” and you would screen it in the next room. “Paradise” too — when “Only Murders in the Building” was shooting on the Paramount lot for their trip to L.A., you were doing “Paradise” at the same time, and you took a break to sort of come see the set of “Only Murders,” which you’re an executive producer on. And you had this scene with Sterling and you wanted to show it.

But you were hesitant about pitching this to Sterling, which I’m sort of surprised by because I think you know when something’s good. Talk a little bit about what made you nervous about giving it to him and what he would say.

Fogelman: I’m a person who operates off of obligation. My best friend, [who] gave a speech at my wedding, said, “You can ask Dan for anything and he’ll feel too guilty not to do it.” He’s like, “He’s my ride home tonight” — that was his joke at my wedding. I felt worried that Sterling would feel obligated after “This Is Us.” When we ended “This Is Us,” I remember very vividly Sterling wrapping, and I did a little impromptu quick thing when he was wrapping and I was like, “Sterling, you go out in the world now and make us proud.” We could all see what’s coming for Sterling and what remains to be coming for him. I was like, “Go win your Oscars. Don’t forget us when you’re even more famous” — that kind of thing. To come back to him a year and a half later with a script for another TV show with the same guy, I wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t like it; I was worried that it would put him in a weird position. He was so gracious. I sent it to him. I had written it picturing Sterling but never vocalizing that to myself. Then I started letting friends read it to get their feedback, and they’re like, “Did you develop this with Sterling, or was it his idea?” And I was like, “No, I’ve never talked to Sterling about this.” And it started occurring to me that if I didn’t get Sterling, I had a huge problem because that is who I’ve been picturing. I sent it to him, and he read it that day and called me back and said, “Tell me where it goes” — because obviously if you watch the pilot, it doesn’t tell you a lot about where it’s going. I gave him the broad strokes of where it was going for three seasons. I said: “It’s three seasons, I want to shoot it in L.A. Here’s what the arc of it is. Here’s where it’s going. Here’s what happened in the world.” And he said, “I’m in.” We just kind of shook hands. And that day we were off to the races.

Villarreal: What did he think about the twists in that first episode?

Fogelman: Sterling emotes, right? Sterling will come into the writers’ room — he’s an executive producer on the show — and if you pitch him something surprising, he falls to the floor and rolls on his back like a golden retriever. He reacts and he emotes. So, he was really into it. He had the same question I think everybody had after the pilot, which is, “What happens now?” I kind of had the rough answers. As you know, he’s the best guy. I was just outside, and somebody was asking me, like, “How do you get Julianne Nicholson and James Marsden to do your show?” I’m like, “Well, it helps if you already have Sterling K. Brown because they all want to work with Sterling.” And hopefully they tolerate me and the script. It’s been a gift with him.

Villarreal: You said Sterling sort of became the person you were thinking about as it evolved. How did you decide who should be which characters? Why was Sterling right for Xavier? Why was Julianne right for this tech billionaire?

Fogelman: There’s not a lot of art to it. You just kind of see it in your brain a little bit. Sterling I’d worked with, I had known Julianne and James from their work, not personally. The other actors in the show, for the most part, I’d known of their work or whatnot. Most of them read, and when you’re doing this job, a big part of your job is you see a lot of really beautiful, talented people read the same lines of dialogue. And your job is to think, “Which person fits it? And which person makes it most interesting?” Jon Beavers, who plays Billy Pace, was an actor I didn’t know. And I really wanted him from the moment I saw him on tape. I was like, “This is the guy for that part.” But I knew, because it was only four episodes, that there might be a clamoring for a bigger name in the part. Because it would be possible. Because you could go cast anybody because it’s a month of work if they were willing to pay him. And so Jon came in and he read and he read again. And then you get to a part where it’s like chemistry tests. And he was reading with Nicole [Brydon Bloom] and a couple of other people who [were in the running to] play Jane. And I just loved him. He walked out of the room at the end of it, and I ran out after him and I said, “Jon, would you ever look at a new scene that I haven’t given you yet? It’s from the fourth episode, and you’ve only got the pilot to audition off of.” I knew the scene was big, and I wanted to have a piece of material that would be undeniable if I needed it to win with the powers that be. And Jon sat with the scene for three minutes and came in to me and said, “I’m ready.” And he came in, and it became his big scene right before his death in the show where he confronts Julianne’s character, Sinatra. And actually, when I first Zoomed with Julianne, I showed her the scene. I was like, you want to see something cool? This guy did this in three minutes without any preparation and look how good it is. And so part of it is just like a gut instinct or really liking somebody for it. And I had that with everybody in the cast on this one.

Should I be funnier? I feel like I should be funny.

Villarreal: Do you have a Sterling story?

Fogelman: What’s my best Sterling story…

Villarreal: He’s bare naked in this.

Fogelman: Oh, my God. When I first showed him — because Sterling takes eight years to watch or read anything, except for this pilot. And it drives me crazy because I want Sterling to like it, and I’m very excited. I’m like, “Have you seen the second episode?” He’s like, “I haven’t had time, man.” I’m like, “You haven’t had time to watch a 50-minute episode of television? It’s been a month!” And it drives you crazy. But then he finally saw that third episode and he was like, “Dan, all anyone’s going to talk about is my ass. Is it gonna be released in the first batch of episodes?” ’Cause he went a hundred years down the road and was seeing the press where they always wanted to ask a question about his ass. But he loves it. He’s so proud of it. And the first person to see “Paradise” was my mother-in-law [and wife]. I showed them the first three episodes at home before anyone had seen it. [My mother-in-law] had lived and breathed “This Is Us” with me; my wife was in the show. And when that part came on, the shower, she started fanning herself. And she said “Oh, Sterling!” That made him very happy. That was his proudest moment of the show, I think.

Villarreal: This show is marketed as a political thriller, and the question that looms over the season is, “Who killed the president?” But then you get to the final moments of that season opener and you realize, “OK, there’s a lot more to this. This seemingly all-American town is really this community carved under a Colorado mountain after an apocalyptic event.” What was going through your mind in terms of how to piece it out? How meticulous were you in the edit — like, is this is revealing too much too soon?

Fogelman: It’s less in the edit, because at the edit you’re already pretty bound to what you’ve scripted, but it was in the writing stages. My intent for the show was that in the first season of eight episodes, we were going to provide answers every week, ask new questions and hopefully have provided a complete meal by the end of the season where, for the most part, I think any question you’ve been asking in the course of the first series of the show is answered by the end of the season. I was very clinical about that. I get frustrated when shows give you too much too quickly but also when they withhold for too long. I thought, for this one, I wanted to be really calculated about it. In the second episode, you start learning, “Oh, wow, the world really did end, something catastrophic happened” and you’re learning more about Sinatra; in the opening sequence of [Episode] 2, Sinatra is telling all these other scientists that something imminent is coming for the world. We would constantly, in the writers’ room, put ourselves in the minds of the television audience. If I was watching at home, I’d say, “Oh, they’re all in the ‘Truman Show’; this is all fake, it’s a social experiment.” At what point do we get rid of that theory for the audience? At what point do we tell the audience and show the audience what actually happened on the day the world ended? And so that was really calculated with how we were gonna parse it out.

Villarreal: The press get episodes ahead of time. But it was interesting watching people watch it week to week and see their reactions on social media. The show launched with three episodes, then it switched to weekly. How much were you involved in those discussions about starting with three episodes at launch?

Fogelman: That was a big conversation. I’ve got a great studio and network who involve me in the conversations. I don’t know if I could move the needle if I disagreed strongly with anything, but they at least involve me. My first instinct had been, “Let’s let the pilot be the only thing that gets put out in the world and let people talk about it and what that ending says.” But then you have to acknowledge the fact that people are being served television in just a very different way these days. The whole point of the show is I wanted to make something that was hopefully artful and well done but also propulsive, and you don’t want to frustrate people. We’re accustomed to hitting that drip of next episode, next episode. So while I did want that week-to-week build and momentum, I was also aware we have to give them a little bit more to hook them in. And ultimately you trust the people that are like, “We know how things play.” I wanted this show to get seen. That was a big conversation: Was it one episode? Was it two? Or was it three? Ultimately, they decided three. The downside of that is you get less weeks to build the momentum of a television show that people are starting to talk about. It worked in our favor this time. I think it’s what we’re going to do this coming season, most likely. We do it on “Only Murders” as well — release two or three up top. I did “This Is Us” and other network television shows where it was like, you know when “This Is Us” launched, it had that big twist ending, and then people sat on it for a week and talked. But it was a different time. It was 2016, and we were not as on that Netflix kind of drip of just sitting like hamsters hitting the dopamine button. You have to weigh that. I love a weekly release. My whole goal with this show was to capture a small sliver of the zeitgeist where people could be talking about something, hypothesizing and talking, and I knew that required a weekly release. But how many [episodes to launch with] to get people like locked and loaded was a big debate.

Villarreal: What was the episode or the moment that you were most eager to see how people responded to?

Fogelman: So, my process always has been, I find strangers — I could pick out 20; I try and have them vetted by people who know them, so friends of my writers, friends of actors — and I start bringing them into my edit bay early and screen for them. There’s this old screening process that used to happen in television and film, which is really bad, because you just literally give people dials. You guys familiar with this? You give people dials and you say, “When are you liking something? Turn up your dial.” All you’ll hear is they don’t like that actor, they don’t like that moment. And I’m like, “Well, yeah, the grandfather was dying. I don’t expect them to be going, ‘Weeeee!’” It was a very broken system. But I do believe in screening stuff for people and seeing how they react, even if you’re not going to change it; even if you go, “Well, you’re stupid, you don’t get how brilliant I am.” I bring people into my edit bay all the time and strangers who sign [nondisclosure agreements] — I would do that on “This Is Us,” I did that here. I was very interested to see what happened at the end of the pilot to people. Are they following it? Are they following the ending the right way, the way I want them to? After that, you would start hearing murmurings in the room as the camera’s rising and as the guy’s going “the world’s ending” and they realize they’re underground. After, I will say things like, “When did you start realizing something was amiss? Did any of you get ahead of it?” I will get a little bit more granular. It was exciting in the fourth episode when we killed a character, watching an audience in my small little edit bay, watching them go with that episode, knowing we were about to pull the rug out from under them. And that they were going to have a reaction — that was exciting. It’s exciting when it goes the way you want it to go. They were turning to me going, “You motherf—, you can’t!” You’re like, “Oh, good. That’s good. That’s a good day at work!” Watching people watch that last episode and feeling them move with the explosions, that’s my most exciting thing. I started doing films, and this experience of communally watching stuff you don’t get in television. For me, you get limited opportunities to watch people react to the thing that you slave over every detail of as a group. I have 300 people making our TV show right now, and we never get to see people watch it. That’s a really exciting part.

Villarreal: Fans are so savvy — they can rewatch, they can zoom in, they can pause and really look at details. Are you ever worried they’re going to get to the mystery before you’ve gotten there?

Fogelman: I screen ad nauseam. As an example, in our premiere, there’s an assassination attempt of the president in the premiere, and the guy doing the assassination attempt is a character that hides in plain sight throughout the series; then we get to the end, and that’s the murderer.

Villarreal: Spoiler alert.

Fogelman: But that actor’s mother, or longtime manager, was at the premiere and said to the actor, “I wish I got to see an episode you were in.” And he was like, “I was in that episode.” And she said, “What?” We do that level of testing where we feel pretty confident when it’s going out in the world, it’s not gonna get spoiled. But we were locking our pilot, the first episode, before Christmas, to air in January, and the big expensive shot was the big final shot that goes up and reveals the inner workings of the dome. I showed my brother-in-law and my sister-in law. My brother-in-law had taken way too many weed gummies, so he wasn’t the best audience, but at the end, he’s like, “Are they in outer space?” I kind of was like, “You’re so stoned. You need to stop with the weed gummies.” But then somebody else in the room was like, “Oh, I thought that for a second.” I went back into my writers; I was like, “Go screen it for your families more.” And one out of every 20 persons was having a misunderstanding that they were in a space station. So we went back and we spent a fortune — I had people work over the holidays because I got more granular. I was like, “What is it that’s saying space station to people?” And it was these red lights we had combined with a couple of other different lighting choices, and we went to the drawing board with our visual effects to make sure there was no confusion about what was going on at the end of it. I’ve always said good television is made by people who take it way too seriously. And I have like 20 people in my writers’ room and 300 people on my crew that take it really seriously and that’s part of it.

Villarreal: How does it compare to sort of the secrecy that surrounded “This Is Us”? There were red scripts, there were NDAs.

Fogelman: The world has moved faster now, so I’m less worried about it. “This Is Us” was an anomaly because it was so in the zeitgeist for a moment — “How did he die? What were the secrets?” But it was also so early in this moment of the internet and spoilers and whatnot that now I’ve kind of chilled out a little bit. I do “Only Murders in the Building,” and the showrunner of that show, John Hoffman, is very frenetic all the time that if one little Easter egg is in a trailer, it’s going to ruin the surprise for everybody. And I worry a little bit less now, maybe because I’m old and lazy, but I worry a little less. I think the media is pretty forgiving. I watch “Survivor,” it’s my favorite show, and I’m so tired of those blurbs you see on your timeline that they show the face of the person who got voted out the night before; it drives me absolutely insane. I have to like blur my vision all the time. I hate it. But I think for the most part, the media’s done a better job [with] if there’s a spoiler, you’re going to have to dig for it as opposed to it being accidentally in your face. I thought “White Lotus,” did it [well]; everybody was really responsible with it this year.

Villarreal: Inherent to this apocalyptic event is this idea of starting over, starting fresh and trying to correct some of the mistakes or errors of the past. What intrigued you about those existential questions at play here?

Fogelman: I think we’re all there a little bit right now. I had this idea 15 years ago, and the idea that everything was changing and it was quicksand under our feet was a little less prevalent back then. I was very drawn into the early years of “The Walking Dead” — those early seasons of that show were so good because ultimately it wasn’t about zombies or apocalypse, it was about, “If the s— hits your fan, what levels will you go to to protect the people you love? How far would you break bad?” I was interested in that notion. I was interested in the notion of putting a really good man in the center of it as opposed to an antihero. Because Sterling exudes decency as a human being, and this character is so hard and quiet and [an] old-school action hero. I was curious about what it was like to put that guy in that world, so that appealed to me.

I went to a little carnival recently, and my little boy wanted to get a balloon animal. He was really patiently waiting in line for the balloon animal. And I was watching him, and he was really patiently just waiting and waiting, and this mother kept coming over and bringing multiple kids and cutting the line in front of him because her kid was in front him, and she kept bringing friends and other kids. And I was using it as a case study and I was watching my little boy; I’m like, “I wonder how he’s gonna react.” He stood there patiently, but the balloon animal guy said “five more minutes and I’m packing up.” I was like, “Oh, is he gonna run out of time?” I was originally watching it as a case study on my little boy. Then I started filling with rage. And I was like, “I’m going to kill this woman. I’m going to have to go over and be the parent who says, ‘Excuse me, ma’am, your children are not in line for the balloon animal. My son is.’” And I was like, “No, don’t do it, don’t do it.” It fascinated me what started happening in me as I held back and didn’t say anything. And he got his balloon animal. He’s a spoiled little brat. He’s fine. But that stuff really intrigues me, especially if you raise the stakes to end of the world and all of that.

Villarreal: What did it make you think about in terms of the lengths you’ll go to?

Fogelman: I think we’d all go to extraordinary lengths. And whereas “The Walking Dead” focused on that, this focuses a little bit more on what the people in power do. As you learn more about Julianne’s character, Sinatra, [the question becomes], “What length will you go to save not just your own family but a portion of humanity? What are the right things to do in these situations?” And so it takes my balloon animal story and puts it on steroids a little. And that was really interesting to me.

Villarreal: Speaking of case studies, I feel like we’re living a case study right now in terms of a president and the people around him and the influence or power that they have. And obviously [the show] predates some of the [recent] headlines — whether it’s Trump and Elon Musk or whomever. What was the research you were seeing about the power dynamics in a role like that that were interesting to you at the time?

Fogelman: That really caught us off guard, the Elon Musk-president relationship, because there was one point in our third episode where, in a flashback, Julianne [as Sinatra] walks into the Oval Office from a side room, and I remember having my bulls— meter going off on my own television show going like, “Is this realistic? She’s not the chief of staff of this guy. Could she really be walking in and out of the Oval Office?” And lo and behold, here we are, all this time later. So I was like, “I guess it’s realistic.” Our research was actually somewhat more focused on the logistics of building a bunker city, of governing in a bunker city, of, “What would the electric vehicles be like? How would they source food and clothing?” There are so many more answers hidden in the production design of the show than you actually see onscreen. We had a dissertation written by a professor of sociology on how the best way to govern would be. A benevolent dictatorship was deemed the best form of government for this particular situation by people who said, “How would you keep people alive and in a functional way?” I’m not talking in the United States, I’m talking about in this bunker city. That’s what we think in our mind’s eye Sinatra had the research to see and say, “I’m going to try and do the right thing for all these people down below as best I can and try and keep the people at bay.” We did a lot of research on governance, on infrastructure, on things about nuclear and thermal energy that I can’t fathom nor understand, but that my writers all understood — how the place was powered and all of that. A little less on power dynamics between billionaires and power just because I think you kinda know what that is. It’s a lot of people in a room who are used to being the only person who everybody listens to.

Villarreal: But also, who do you trust? Cal [the president, played by James Marsden] has Xavier, he’s got Sinatra. It’s interesting to see whose input he takes in.

Fogelman: And ultimately, we try and make everybody fallible, but also everybody kind of have a point of view and a place where they’re coming from. I think in the second season of the show, you’ll see where Sinatra was coming from on the big picture even more. You kind of know where Marsden’s coming from, you know where Sterling’s coming form, and those are all the people pushing against one another in the show.

Villarreal: No matter what side of the political spectrum you fall on, I feel like everybody feels like we’re in a doomsday situation at the moment and change is needed. How do you create escapist TV at a time like this where people have issues on either side?

Fogelman: I remember when the show was coming out, having a degree of concern about that, just based off the timing and things I couldn’t control. We’ve been here in different ways before. When you look at all the periods of history, it always felt at different points of our history, like, “Oh my, wow, the sky is really falling. This is for real this time. This isn’t like it was for our parents’ generation or the generation before; this is worse.” The X factor right now that’s making people say, “No, this is the one that’s the worst” is the technology has shifted so dramatically. When the Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated, it was with a single person. Now those single people have much more scary stuff. The technology and the AI is much scarier. I wanted to make something that had climate change as a factor, but I also wanted to create a scenario that wouldn’t be the one that would keep people up at night. This is an extreme kind of worst-case scenario fluke occurrence that could happen. It’s based in some science, but it’s not the most likely way the world is going to end. We were trying to find ways so it could be palatable.

Villarreal: Thanks for that assurance because that was my concern. How likely is this to happen?

Fogelman: We have a writer on our show who’s one of the foremost experts on climate change.

Villarreal: Please talk about that.

Fogelman: Stephen Markley. He wrote a novel recently — it’s a masterpiece of a novel. He was hired for the show because of it — called “The Deluge.” Part of entertainment is we created a big tsunami and a big crazy action-adventure episode of television. The reality of climate change will happen quickly, but in less world-encompassing kind of ways. And if we don’t get on top of it, it’s a huge, huge catastrophe waiting to happen. As an example, and Stephen covers this in his book: I’m by no means a climate-change expert, but a lot of us roll our eyes when we talk about six inches of sea-level rise because it doesn’t seem like the thing that’s going to necessarily end the world. But along with the many, many, many, things that come along with that, when that inevitably happens, if we don’t stop, when parts of Miami go underwater, it won’t be a drowning of a half of a state or a city necessarily, because it will happen slowly and then quickly. What will happen is, as we’ve seen out here in California with the fires, you’re talking about an economic and housing collapse that will dwarf anything we saw in 2008. If you think about how hard it is to get your home insured now in California, just wait. That’s the stuff that’s less sexy than a tsunami sweeping over a 400-story building. But unless we get our heads out of our asses, it’s coming. Our balancing act is, “How do we make something not pedantic, make it entertainment, make it so that you can do it, but also maybe shake people a little at the same time?”

Villarreal: The conversations in that writers’ room must be insane — just TED Talks all the time.

Fogelman: It’s also a lot of fart jokes. It’s a nice balance. But it’s a heady, heady place. Season 2 deals with a lot really heady stuff, and I try and understand it as best I can and then let the smart people battle it out.

Villarreal: I want to get into some of the details of the show because details make everything. Can you talk to me about why Wii?

Fogelman: We just thought it was funny. But also, in Season 2, you’ll learn the origin of the Wii for Jane. Our sixth episode that we’re shooting right now actually is called “Jane,” and it’s her backstory episode.

Villarreal: How about the fries? How did you land on the cashew cheese fries?

Fogelman: We landed on the fries primarily because we decided there would be no dairy down below because having real dairy would require so much maintenance of chickens and eggs and infrastructure and animals and cows that it wouldn’t be feasible. Cashew and nut cheese was the thing that they would put on cheese fries. We thought it was an interesting way of making it a key clue in the show, but that also tied into where they were and what they don’t have.

Villarreal: Are we going to learn any of the other songs on Cal’s mixtape? Are they important?

Fogelman: No, there is another song that plays heavily towards the end of our season from his oeuvre of music, but no. We’re actually getting very Elvis-heavy [in] Season 2, not related to Cal’s music. That’s a little bit of a spoiler.

Villarreal: Can you talk about Phil Collins of it all and finding that cover? Was it originally like, “We want the Phil Collins version”? Or “We want this really eerie, scary version”?

Fogelman: Originally, the show was called “Paradise City,” and the song at the end was Guns N’ Roses’ “Paradise City.” Then I soured on it as a title and it made the song being the song less important. When I got my first editor’s cut of the pilot, she had found that cover — Julia [Grove], our editor — and put it in. And I was like, “Oh, yeah, that’s it. That’s the one.” In my mind, I always thought it would probably be a cover of one of those two songs. I don’t know why, because there’s something about ’80s music — you’re really on a fine line when you use it on a show or in a movie; it can get funny quickly, even if accidentally. Like, “We Built This City,” if you put that in without it being a cover, it makes you smile, but maybe in the wrong way in the genre of television. We felt that it would be good to use covers from the very beginning that could evoke the songs but kind of transform them a little bit.

Villarreal: This show has you thinking about budgets in a different way because you’re dealing with special effects or action scenes in a way you weren’t on “This Is Us.” What’s a scene from the series we’d be surprised got a lot of notes because you have to be like, “I don’t know if we can do it this grand because this is what we’re working with…”?

Fogelman: We never got that. We have a really great studio and network that work with us. We’re given the money we have, and then it’s how we choose to use it. We knew Episode 7 was going to be an expensive episode for us where you show the world actually ending. So what we would do is on Episodes 5 and 6, if we needed to cut a corner here or there, we would do that to save up the money for that. But we never really had that on this show. We also stayed on budget. I’m sure we would have had that if we were over budget, but we never really had that.

Villarreal: You’re about to get the showrunner of the year award, and as a fellow writer who’s very fearful of ever becoming management, I’m very interested to know how your creative process has changed since becoming a showrunner.

Fogelman: It’s a big job. I don’t always relish it. I was with a group of showrunners the other night for a different thing, and we were all just lamenting how exhausted and miserable we all were — in a funny way, because we also all love it. The management is tough. You’re the CEO of a large company. I say 200, 300 people, [but] it’s really 1,000 people when you talk about the people who day play and do special effects and visual effects and all of the stuff. It’s a lot of bodies, and you’re managing a lot of people, and managing people is the hardest part of your job. It takes up a lot time. I don’t go to set very much anymore. I did at the beginning of my showrunning career because I felt like I should and because I wanted to be there because I was the boss. And I started realizing it was just not a good use of my time. I mainly focus on writing, breaking the episodes, writing them and editing them, and that’s where my time goes. But you need to be there for people. On any given day, there’s somebody on your crew who’s not happy with something, and you’re putting out those fires. It’s a tremendous amount of work. One of the things that’s been striking to me, and I say this to people all the time, is, at the end of “This Is Us,” I would make gestures to people who worked on the show, whatever they were, but what would stand out more than anything, and I always felt like it was doing so little, [was] to write somebody a note on stationery. And I was constantly struck by how much it meant to people to be individually seen. People are really kind of lovely and great and don’t require that much. They just wanna be seen and they want their work to be seen. And it’s the difference between writing a little note to somebody that says, “You’re doing a great job” versus “I saw what you did on Tuesday, on Thursday, with that scene, and it’s not lost on me, and I see you, and I appreciate you.” It takes one minute of my time, but I’ve learned how meaningful it can be to people. You try to be better at it and then you inevitably fail. If you were a decent person, you go home and you’re scolding yourself, but it’s been an eye-opening, weird experience.

Villarreal: Well, before we wrap, I know we talked earlier backstage that you’re about halfway through shooting Season 2. What can you share?

Fogelman: I’m really excited about it. I just started editing. Like you said, I show people stuff all too much. And so I’ve just started editing the first two [episodes] and they’re really good.

Villarreal: How soon do things pick up?

Fogelman: Right after. It’s a slightly different show at times in the second season in that part of the season lives outside in the world. We’ve lived almost entirely claustrophobically inside the bunker [so far], and we do live there a lot in [Season 2] and pick up directly from where we left that world. But you’re also living in Sterling’s story and the story of the people he comes across, and those stories eventually collide. It’s a different, exciting show. Shailene Woodley joins the cast this year. I just wrote her a note. She’s extraordinary in the show. I’m really excited for people to see her in it. When you’re doing something different, it’s exciting and daunting, and that’s the best kind of feeling. You’re like, “Oh, I’m not dead inside. I’m very excited about this season.”

Villarreal: Is there something that won’t make sense now but will when we watch?

Fogelman: Elvis.

Villarreal: Any other people from “This Is Us” making an appearance?

Fogelman: Right now, yes, there’s a few. I’m careful about it because I don’t want it to get distracting with Sterling. I did a show called “Galavant,” and one of my actors in it, Tim Omundson, was one of my favorite actors ever, and he had a part in “This Is Us” and now is joining in a part here. There’s another one that I think they’ll yell at me if I announce it, but it’s smaller. I’m always looking at stuff to do with those guys. I just saw Mandy [Moore] and Chris Sullivan the other day, and I’m always looking for stuff for those guys; Milo [Ventimiglia] and Justin [Hartley] and all those guys.

How much can you strip away from the war film and still have a war film?

That question invigorates “The Damned,” the new movie from Roberto Minervini, an Italian-born director who has spent the last 25 years living in America, our worrying cultural undercurrents seeping into his portraits of the marginalized and the discontent, usually documentaries.

“The Damned” represents his first foray into more traditional narrative storytelling, yet this existential drama bears all the hallmarks of his earlier work, less concerned with incident than conjuring a sense of place, time and, most important, a state of being. In his latest, Minervini brings viewers into the thick of the Civil War, only to find the same dazed souls and gnawing uncertainties that have always been his focus. It’s a war film with very little combat, but it’s about a war that still rages today.

Minervini’s naturalistic, observational style is on display from the film’s first scene, which lingers on a pack of wolves meticulously digging into an animal carcass. “The Damned” stays on the images just long enough for them to grow discomforting — when will Minervini cut away? — before introducing us to his anonymous protagonists, a collection of volunteer soldiers in the U.S. Army who have been sent out west in the winter of 1862.

The specifics of the mission are as mysterious as these men’s names as we watch them carry out the minutiae of military busywork. They set up tents. They play cards. They do target practice. Are they meant to represent the hungry wolves from the movie’s opening? Or are they the prey?

To call “The Damned” an antiwar film would be to assign an arbitrary value to what is really a series of offhand episodes consisting of only modest activity. In Minervini’s recent stellar nonfiction projects “The Other Side” and “What You Gonna Do When the World’s on Fire?,” the director collaborated with his subjects to create unvarnished glimpses of everyday lives, sometimes working from prearranged scenarios. Although Minervini is credited as “The Damned’s” screenwriter, his new film draws from a similarly close relationship with his cast, the actors drawing on aspects of their real lives to inform their roles, scenes developing from a loosely sketched-out plot.

In such an intimate, pensive atmosphere, characters emerge gradually out of the rugged landscape like windswept trees or weathered stones. The man identified in the end credits as the Sergeant (Tim Carlson, one of the subjects of Minervini’s 2013 documentary “Stop the Pounding Heart”) is ostensibly the leader, but as the untamed Montana wilderness goes from barren to snowy over an unspecified period of time, the more apparent it becomes that no commanding officer is necessary. The skeletal score by Carlos Alfonso Corral, who doubles as the film’s cinematographer, hints at an elemental menace just over the horizon. But real danger rarely occurs. Instead, these men are trapped in their own heads, their tender, confessional musings about God, war and manhood so rudimentary that they never aspire to the heights of folksy poetry. These soldiers are nothing special — as unimportant as their assignment.

Because Minervini avoids the tropes of the antiwar film — no big speeches, no ponderous metaphors — it’s almost a shock that he allows for one convention, an actual battle scene, which occurs about halfway through the 88-minute runtime. But even here, “The Damned” refuses to follow formula, resulting in an intentionally haphazard sequence as the soldiers are ambushed, the characters fleeing and shooting in every direction, the camera trailing behind them, desperate to keep them in frame. Whether it’s enemy forces or some random buffalo, the movie’s shallow depth of focus ensures that we only see our troops. Everything else resides in a permanently fuzzy, unsettled background, a constant middle distance that traps the characters in their spiritual purgatory.

There are limitations to Minervini’s spartan approach. Whereas his documentary films crackle thanks to his unpredictable interactions with his subjects, “The Damned” cannot help but feel slightly overdetermined, the outcomes predestined rather than organically unearthed. And yet, the concerns he brought to those earlier movies ripple here as well. “The Other Side,” his somber 2015 study of racist drug addicts and gun-toting militia members in rural Louisiana, remains the definitive warning of our modern MAGA age, while 2018’s “What You Gonna Do” prefigures the Black Lives Matter movement.

Now, for the first time, this prescient filmmaker visits America’s distant past, subtly pinpointing the economic inequalities, senseless brutality and thwarted masculinity that will bedevil the nation for the next 160 years. The Civil War is long over, but the country’s divisions remain, those core tensions naggingly unresolved.

Don’t think of “The Damned” as an antiwar film — consider it an origin story for Minervini’s perceptive, understated exploration of an America still in conflict.