filmmaker

PARIS — Acclaimed Iranian-French cartoonist and filmmaker Marjane Satrapi, a prominent advocate for women’s rights, has died at 56, the French presidency said Thursday.

“Her passing marks the loss of a leading figure of French culture and an artist devoted to freedom, whose work carried a universal message and earned her immense international acclaim,” the French presidency said in a statement.

President Emmanuel Macron and his wife “pay tribute to a remarkable artist who transformed an Iranian childhood into a universal fable,” the statement said.

News broadcaster BFM TV and other French media reported Satrapi has “died of sadness” a little over a year after the death of her husband, Swedish film producer and actor Mattias Ripa, according to a statement from people close to the artist.

The French Academy of Fine Arts, of which she was a member, expressed its deep sadness in a social media statement, paying tribute to “a passionate advocate for cinema and film education” who earlier this year created a foundation to help international students come to Paris to study film.

Satrapi is best-known for her monochrome autobiographical comic book and film “Persepolis,” a coming-of-age tale set against the Islamic Revolution in her native Iran.

“Persepolis” won the Film Critics Grand Prix at the Cannes Festival in 2007 and the César Award for adapted screenplay in 2008, in addition to being nominated for animated feature at the 2008 Oscars.

The film, which details her life in Tehran as the willful daughter of intellectual Marxists, is a reminder that Iranians are just like everyone else, Satrapi told The Associated Press in a 2007 interview in Cannes.

“What we wanted to say is, if these people scare you, look closer: They have parents, they have lovers, they have hope, they have stories,” she said.

Iranian authorities at the time protested the movie’s inclusion at Cannes, sending a letter to the French Embassy in Tehran.

Satrapi was born on Nov. 22, 1969, in Rasht, Iran, but her parents sent her to Vienna, Austria, in 1983 to finish her studies because of the extremism in their country following the 1979 Revolution that brought Ayatollah Khomeini to power.

But Satrapi, who found Austria hostile and who desperately missed her parents, returned to Iran in 1989 to attend Tehran University, where she earned a degree in visual communications.

By the time she graduated, Satrapi decided she finally was ready to leave Iran and accept the opportunities her parents had been so desperate to give her a decade before. In 1994 she moved to France. She studied in Strasbourg and later moved to Paris.

Her graphic novels also include “Broderies” (“Embroideries”) and “Poulet aux prunes” (“Chicken with plums”), which also was adapted into a film. As a filmmaker, she has directed several works including “La Bande des Jotas” (“The Gang of Jotas”) and “Radioactive” (“Madame Curie”), a biography about the Polish physicist Marie Curie.

Satrapi in 2023 coordinated the book “Femme, vie, liberté” (“Woman, Life, Freedom”) together with a group of artists and academics to illustrate the revolts that occurred in Iran after the death of Mahsa Amini in 2022 at the hands of the so-called “morality police.” The work denounces the repression and lack of human rights that Iranian society, especially women, suffers at the hands of the Iranian regime, the foundation said.

Satrapi was elected member of the French Academy of Fine Arts in 2024. She also was offered France’s highest award, the Legion of Honor, that same year but declined it, arguing France was not doing enough to support Iranian people fighting for democracy.

“Supporting the women’s revolution in Iran cannot be reduced to photos or speeches,” she wrote in a January 2025 letter to French authorities. “When people are fighting for democracy, we should support them.”

In 2024, Satrapi won the Princess of Asturias Foundation award in Spain for communication and humanities. The organization said she was “an essential voice in the defense of human rights and freedom.” The judges described her as “a symbol of civic engagement led by women.”

Satrapi’s husband, Ripa, died in April 2025 at 53. On her Instagram page, only one message was left in a series of posts: “Because I have lost the love of my life.”

Brooke McCree, a 22-year-old recent UCLA graduate, is the first to admit she’s been going to the movies a lot less.

Back when Regency operated the local Village and Bruin theaters in Westwood Village, she would often take advantage of the student discount and see as many movies as possible. But in the two years since the theaters closed, she said moviegoing for many UCLA students has become inaccessible.

“At UCLA, it’s been rough because I’ll have to walk really far or take the bus [to the movies]. There’s nothing really nearby,” said McCree, who recalled fond memories of seeing movies like “Madame Web” and a “Hunger Games” prequel in a dense crowd of excited college students. “I was pretty devastated when it initially closed.”

There is still hope for the Village Theatre, which recently received a breath of new life thanks to some of Hollywood’s biggest names.

For the first time since 2024, the theater opened its doors early last month for the Los Angeles debut of Billie Eilish and James Cameron’s co-directed concert film, “Hit Me Hard and Soft: The Tour. ” Hundreds of fans filled the college town’s sidewalks, and streets were closed for the black SUVs that dropped off A-listers and executives on the bright blue carpet.

The event was reportedly the first of a limited number of premieres and screenings planned for this summer to support a 12-month renovation set to begin this fall.

The revival is being led by Village Directors Circle, a group of 35 filmmakers who purchased the theater in 2024. They include prominent directors Jason Reitman, who is leading the effort, and Christopher Nolan, J.J. Abrams, Guillermo del Toro, Judd Apatow, Steven Spielberg and Chloé Zhao.

A representative for Reitman declined to comment on the plans.

Nissan GT-R NISMO sports cars are seen outside the Fox Westwood Village Theatre, promoting the “Gran Turismo” movie in 2023.

(AaronP / Bauer-Griffin / GC Images )

The $25-million restoration, which organizers previously told The Times would be completed next year, includes plans for a restaurant, bar, gallery and a multipurpose space in the lobby for filmmakers and hosting premiere-related events.

Last year, the coalition of directors announced that American Cinematheque would operate the theater, hosting special screenings of new releases and repertory titles and conversations with filmmakers. The film non-profit already runs Santa Monica’s Aero Theatre and co-programs both the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood and the Los Feliz 3.

Historically, the neighborhood has been a tricky market for businesses, said Jonathan Kuntz, a former lecturer at the UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television. He worked in the area for nearly 40 years and saw much turnover among local businesses due to high rents and inadequate parking.

“We’ve had some great things, like bookstores and eateries that have flourished sometimes for a decade or two, but it faded out,” Kuntz said. “[The theater] will certainly help Westwood if it is a success.”

For that to happen, Kuntz said, 1400-seat theater will need to screen a regular supply of films to a diverse customer base, including nearby students that have long been among its most frequent customers.

Many current UCLA students are already eagerly anticipating the theater’s reopening, said Ingrid Fan, a senior at the university majoring in public affairs.

“It’s been a bummer to have it closed for so long,” said Fan. “My friends and I always talk about how we just wish it opened sooner.”

While the theater’s renovation timeline won’t be complete before she graduates, she’s certain that other students will make good use of it when it reopens.

“Westwood is a college town, and we are always looking for a new source of community. It’s a space a lot of students would definitely flock to,” Fan said.

Broxton Avenue in Westwood Village during one of UCLA’s First Thursdays community events.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

A historic movie hub

The university and its surrounding village, including the theater, were developed simultaneously throughout the 1920s and 1930s. Designed by Percy P. Lewis, the Westwood Village Theatre originally opened as a part of the Fox Theatres chain in 1931.

Despite launching during the Great Depression, the Westwood Village Theatre had a prime location working in its favor.

Westwood was imagined as a satellite town in West L.A. that would eventually support the growing UCLA campus. The neighborhood became known as the third major movie theater hub, behind downtown and Hollywood. In the 1920s, when the Chinese and the Egyptian theaters opened on Hollywood Boulevard, Westwood was next in line as a booming premiere destination.

“It was much more convenient to those folks than going to downtown Los Angeles, or even to Hollywood,” Kuntz said.

This was an era of moviegoing when premieres were essential to a movie’s box office success, drawing substantial marketing opportunities. The volume of films being produced at the time made it necessary to have multiple premiere-ready theaters around L.A., Kuntz said.

A “Terminator” poster is unveiled at the world premiere of “Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines” in 2003.

(Robert Mora / Getty Images)

Over its 95-year history, the venue has been remodeled a handful of times, including in the 1950s when television became a mainstream medium. Soon, multiplexes emerged, which put the Westwood Village location at a disadvantage. To this day, the theater can only show one film at a time.

In the 1970s, the venue joined the Mann Theatres chain, and in 1988, it was designated a historic cultural monument.

Regency Theatres took over the Village Theatre and its neighboring film venue, the Bruin, in 2010. Notably, in 2018, Quentin Tarantino used the Bruin during the filming of “Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood,” which is set in late-1960s Los Angeles.

The ticket booth at the Regency Bruin theater in Westwood Village all boarded up, as seen on the afternoon of Nov. 3, 2020.

(Carolina A. Miranda / Los Angeles Times)

Regency continued to operate the two locations until its lease ended in 2024. Although the group of Hollywood directors was quick to bid on the Village (the Bruin was not included in the deal), the theater has remained closed since then, with the exception of the recent Billie Eilish premiere.

As theaters continue to navigate rough waters amid hopes of a durable post-pandemic recovery, celebrity buyers have become a driving force in the effort to preserve some of L.A.’s historic venues. Tarantino operates both the New Beverly Cinema and the Vista, and most recently, Kristen Stewart purchased the Highland Park theater.

“A lot of people in Hollywood want to preserve at least some of what made classic Hollywood successful, like the big screen experience,” Kuntz said. “These folks are the ones who could afford to buy a movie house or two, program it and keep that tradition alive.”

L.A. Times staff writers Josh Rottenberg and Meg James contributed to this report.

CANNES, France — Greeting from the Croisette, where the 79th Cannes Film Festival is underway — and where the Envelope has its inaugural Cannes issue.

I’ve been hard at work since before the Oscars assigning and editing stories about the global film industry and this storied event’s role in it, albeit with an L.A. twist. And with this special edition of the newsletter, you too can be a part of the “Entourage,” at least vicariously. Read on for more highlights from the issue, and be sure to check out Amy Nicholson and Joshua Rothkopf’s conversation about the Cannes films they’re most excited to see before you block out your schedule.

Cover: Almodóvar, uncensored

(Shayan Asgharnia / For The Times)

You know you have a juicy interview on your hands when you wake up to it being aggregated by the trades, and I can’t really blame them: Columnist Glenn Whipp’s cover profile of Spanish auteur Pedro Almodóvar, in competition here with his new film “Bitter Christmas,” is chock full of pungent quotations.

At 76, the filmmaker is unafraid to speak his mind, whether it be about the apolitical Oscars or the decline of American democracy. But his metafictional treat, in which an acclaimed filmmaker falls out with an old friend over pilfering real life for inspiration, shows that he’s equally willing to turn that critical lens inward. It’s the film, he says, “where I’ve been cruelest with myself.”

Digital cover: Cannes kid Diego Calva

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

In one of those serendipitous intersections editors dream off, it’s Almodovar that our digital cover star is most amped to meet during the fortnight: “If Almodóvar shakes my hand, I can die in peace,” Diego Calva tells contributor Carlos Aguilar.

With two films at the festival — Jordan Firstman’s “Club Kid,” playing in Un Certain Regard, and Nicolas Winding Refn’s highly anticipated out-of-competition title “Her Private Hell” — Calva, who appeared earlier this year in “The Night Manager” Season 2, may be hard for Almodóvar to miss. But the actor isn’t letting the auspicious moment go to his head. “My friends don’t care whether I have seven Golden Globes or if I’m not working at all,” he says. “To them, I’m just Diego.”

What’s next for Nollywood

(Photo illustration by Stephanie Jones / For The Times; photos courtesy of Anthill Studios, African International Film Festival)

I admit I didn’t know much about the Nigerian film industry beyond the term “Nollywood” before reading Daron James’ deep dive on how the West African country is charting a new course after its recent streaming boom went bust. Now I’m eager to see if its embrace of theatrical exhibition — including, gasp, building more cinemas — can rub off on its American namesake.

Nollywood may produce “the second most movies globally after India,” as James writes, but “creative hustle… is still as important as ever.”

More coverage of the 2026 Cannes Film Festival

Sophy Romvari’s luminous debut feature “Blue Heron” is a loving and studious act of remembrance. Her protagonist and surrogate, Sasha (Amy Zimmer), attempts to understand her family’s past through a reverent process of recreation. While she finds that not everything can be understood, there is beauty and solace in the journey itself — and maybe a kind of catharsis.

“Blue Heron” is an autobiographical project, but it’s more apt to call it a memoir. Sasha admits she doesn’t remember much of her childhood and doesn’t even trust the fragments. But she will try anyway. As Sasha zooms in on her iPhone, standing at the bluff overlooking her hometown, Romvari rolls up the back of a moving truck to deliver a lush slice of ’90s childhood nostalgia, picking up the memory as her Hungarian immigrant family — two parents, three brothers and one sister — arrive at their new home on Canada’s Vancouver Island.

Father (Ádám Tompa) settles into work on the home computer; Mother (Iringó Réti) attempts to amuse the kids with trips to the beach and nature preserves. Snippets of summer filter through the eyes and ears of 8-year-old Sasha (Eylul Guven) and in the photos snapped by their parents.

But a disquieting presence looms: Jeremy (Edik Beddoes), the eldest son. Blond, light-featured and tall, he is visually distinct from the three other children and his silent rebellion permeates the atmosphere.

His misbehavior is minor — irritating but untenable when stacked together — like bouncing a ball against a wall, disappearing for fun or climbing on the roof. He mostly just seems like a moody, unsatisfied teen, drawing elaborate maps and sometimes playing with his siblings sweetly. It all seems like harmless mischief until it escalates.

The movie’s title refers to a key chain from a gift shop that Jeremy, who almost never speaks, presents to his younger sister. Like him, the film is quiet and meditative, bathed in the cool blues and verdant greens of the setting, captured in Maya Bankovic’s saturated cinematography. We are transported to a place of natural beauty and a period of seemingly unlimited time. But Jeremy-related tension simmers beneath the domestic surface, just as it does in Chantal Akerman’s 1975 landmark “Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles,” referenced in a shot of a mother and daughter peeling potatoes.

“Blue Heron,” though, is not just going to simply be a throwback family drama about a troubled boy and his younger sister. The film suddenly zooms out, linearly, to two decades later. Zimmer’s older version of Sasha is grappling with her brother’s void and she does so with her mind, her work, her actions. She conducts a focus group of social workers for a documentary in order to try to understand Jeremy’s behavior and the treatment he got at the time. She scrubs through video and photos and interviews a case worker. She escapes into old movies.

In Romvari’s award-winning 2020 short “Still Processing,” a companion piece to “Blue Heron,” she processes the loss of two brothers through photography, sifting through boxes of old photos and film negatives shot by her father, who trained as a cinematographer in Hungary. It seems natural for Romvari to access the emotional through artistic practice, to give her — and Sasha — something to do with their hands. The tactility of the photographs in “Still Processing” provide an access point to the past. Romvari weeps as she spreads them out on a table, saying “hi” softly to her brothers. But there’s a remove in the rigorous focus on the snapshots that perhaps also protects her from the full crushing weight of these emotions.

But in a film like “Blue Heron,” anything is possible, including time travel, and for Romvari, it’s the channel that she offers Sasha to achieve the closure that she needs: a visit to a time she doesn’t really remember, even as she’s building an archive of materials to bolster herself.

If young Sasha watches (and Guven is absolutely terrific at watching), the older Sasha speaks. Zimmer, a New York City comedian, is tasked with a heavy, grief-laden dramatic role, and she’s utterly convincing, entrancing in her stillness. But she also has a way with words, a clarity that rings with a rare kind of honest empathy, especially in a letter that Sasha reads to her parents.

That letter is what “Blue Heron” represents for its filmmaker — an attempt to re-create the past, to bring it back to life. Even if imperfect, the value is in the effort, in the ongoing practice of remembering, as an act of devotion to family and self.