life

What do fallen empires leave behind? Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida’s new work of fiction attempts to answer that question. “Three Stories of Forgetting” probes the inner worlds of three men scarred by their participation in Portugal’s history of rapacious colonialist intervention that ended in 1999. For nearly 600 years, the European republic was involved in a bloody land grab that at its peak controlled over 5.5 million square miles across Africa, Asia and the Americas.

Pereira de Almeida’s protagonists — Celestino, a slave trader; Boa Morte, a former soldier who had been conscripted to fight his fellow Africans in the Guinea-Bissau War of Independence; and Bruma, an elderly plantation worker — live in a liminal state between past and present, searching for some measure of solace in a world that offers none. I chatted with Pereira de Almeida, who was born in Angola but was reared in Lisbon, about her haunting triptych of stories.

✍️ Author Chat

Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida is author of “Three Stories of Forgetting,” a new novel exploring the legacies of slavery, colonialism, and the Portuguese Empire.

(Humberto Brito)

Three stories of forgetting … but nothing is forgotten among these men.

All three men are tormented by what they can’t forget, although they don’t feel exactly guilty, in the case of Celestino and Boa Morte. Bruma is a different story. The “forgetting” of the title relates to the omission of the figures who do not appear in the book, or who appear only occasionally, episodically. Those who are forgotten are the victims and their story. These three stories are also chapters of a more general story of violence, that of colonialism, whose victims are largely forgotten to this day.

Boa Morte, a valet in Lisbon, carries an enormous burden of guilt; in order to expiate it, he tries to save a young street vagrant. Of course, all attempts at redemption in the book are futile — why is that?

I don’t think redemption is as common as much of today’s fiction seems to suggest. The experience of guilt or of an existence haunted by ghosts seems more common to me. Boa Morte was forgotten by Portugal, the country for which he gave his life, and his hateful behavior left him utterly alone. What would redeem his life? Boa Morte is inspired by a man I knew who became my friend and lived on the streets of Lisbon, just like the character. One day, he was found dead in an alley. Not all lives know redemption.

The three protagonists are captives of their pasts, because the past is still present. Can you speak to that?

After reading [British philosopher] Peter Geach’s sentence that opens his book “The Virtues,” I became interested in inquiring into the lives of people who may be, so to speak, “dead in the eyes of God.” The problem with this possibility, however, is that we may die in the eyes of God early in life, without knowing it, and yet live to old age and remain here.

This sentence is important to me, regardless of its religious meaning. It is important in that it opens up the possibility that we may have exhausted our share of grace in life and, as humans, need to keep going.

All three of these characters are looking for some kind of solace — whether it’s reverting to some kind of quiet life among living things that don’t talk back, or building a lean-to as a kind of sanctuary.

Perhaps these places they seek are, in very different ways, the only possible remnants of rest: and also places where questions have ceased. Among living things that don’t talk there are no witnesses, there is no guilt.

You can’t write stories like these without some degree of empathy — do you feel sorry for these men? What do you feel for them as a writer?

I agree with that. I don’t feel sorry for them, but I tried to get closer to them and understand them, without imposing my ideas and opinions on them, something I don’t like to do when I write novels. Instead, I preferred, as I usually prefer, to fly around them like an insect, to study them, to let them talk to me: It is a non-imposing approach, which lets the characters speak. In general, I tend to be interested in characters I don’t like and who wouldn’t treat me with the kindness I show them. It’s my way of seeking justice, in its contradictions, and of exploring ambiguity in human behavior: I want to create hospitality, and that means being able to extend my hospitality to characters whose deeds I condemn.

(This Q&A was edited for length and clarity.)

📰 The Week(s) in Books

Carolyn Kellogg, Bethanne Patrick and Mark Athitakis select the best books of the year for The Times.

(Photo illustration by Josep Prat Sorolla / For The Times; book jackets from Scribner, Riverhead and Penguin Press)

Jim Ruland talked to Thurston Moore about his new book that chronicles the Sonic Youth guitarist’s love of free jazz. “I go out with my band and I play typical band gigs,” says Moore, “but I prefer being in a basement with a free jazz drummer any day of the week.”

Mark Athitakis finds favor with W. David Marx’s “Blank Space,” a sharp critique that maps the decline of our present culture, as well as Adam Morgan’s biography of 20th century literary firebrand Margaret C. Anderson, a trailblazer who bucked the prevailing culture to champion challenging art, including Joyce’s “Ulysses.” “If we want more works like ‘Ulysses’ in our world (and far less cringe) … it will demand a stubbornness from creators and dedication from consumers that the current moment is designed to strip from us,” Athatakis writes.

Finally, three critics weigh in on the 15 best books of 2025, while Mariella Rudi ticks off the nine best celebrity memoirs of the year.

📖 Bookstore Faves

Apollo, one of two bookstore cats, sleeping in a box at the Iliad bookstore in North Hollywood.

(Gerard Burkhart / For The Times)

The San Fernando Valley has lost many of its beloved bookshops over the last two decades, but North Hollywood’s Iliad bookshop remains. The store, which first opened its doors 28 years ago and remains the greatest purveyor of used books in all of Los Angeles, is the kind of tangled labyrinth teeming with titles that one can get lost in for hours. I spoke with Dan Weinstein about what is moving out of the doors this holiday season.

What is selling in the Christmas rush this year?

We tend to sell the same kinds of titles all year round, so it’s standard literature, science fiction and the handful of authors we can’t keep on the shelves: Octavia Butler, Charles Bukowski, Sarah J. Maas and Brandon Sanderson. Also, a lot of gift cards! Actually, January is our strongest month for sales — winter kicks in and people like to stay at home and read.

Full disclosure: I’ve been a loyal Iliad customer since the ’90s. Do you tend to see the same faces across the years?

Oh, we have very serious hardcore customers that come over and over again. Some of them even come on a daily basis. Fortunately, we are always putting good new inventory out.

What about Hollywood business? You have a tremendous inventory of art and photography books. Do set designers come in to find inspiration?

We do sell a lot to the entertainment industry. That really keeps us alive. If we were doing business in a city other than Los Angeles, I don’t think we would do nearly as well.

The Iliad Bookshop is located in North Hollywood at 5400 Cahuenga Blvd.

(Please note: The Times may earn a commission through links to Bookshop.org, whose fees support independent bookstores.)

PLODDING down the steep cobbled ramp, I was already starting to believe that I was stepping into a fairytale.

The boat, bobbing on the water, was the start of my journey to another world.

And, as I drew closer to my destination — a small, mist-shrouded island that was the inspiration for Neverland in JM Barrie’s Peter Pan stories — the storybook setting felt even more real.

Eilean Shona is a rugged tidal island in Scotland’s Inner Hebrides.

“Hidden gem” is an apt description of the place, with visitors having to drive down a long and winding road on the mainland before they even reach the boat taxi that will ferry them to the island.

Boats aren’t on a regular schedule either — the island, and its manor house, Eilean Shona House, is privately owned by Sir Richard Branson’s sister Vanessa, who transformed the destination into a luxury eco-friendly retreat in the 1990s.

BLUE SKYE THINKING

Explore the scenic wonderland of the Hebrides on a personalised cruise

PEX APPEAL

Escape the crowds and take a dip in basement pool of Edinburgh’s Apex Hotel

I really did feel like Wendy when I spotted Neverland for the first time, hidden beneath the clouds.

Just like JM Barrie’s mythical land, the island is covered in thick green woodland.

But this is far from your typical island retreat. Don’t expect speedy wifi, shops and roads, because Eilean Shona is completely car-free, has no shops and only nine people live here.

Instead, you can expect whimsical walks, white sand beaches and a cosy Scottish atmosphere.

The best way to get your bearings is with a refreshing walk to the summit of the island, 265 metres above sea level, which boasts spectacular views over Loch Moidart and the small isles of Rum and Eigg, as well as the Isle of Skye.

You can reward your hiking efforts with a slurp of vodka, because while whisky is the spirit more typically associated with Scotland, this island is where the premium spirits brand Sapling began.

Sat on a bench near the water’s edge in 2018, the brand’s founders, Ed Faulkner and Ivo Devereux, came up with the idea for a climate-positive spirit.

Sapling vodka and gin was formed — spirits that didn’t mess with the environment. In fact the firm gives back to it, by planting a tree each time a bottle is sold.

It was the perfect tipple to accompany me as I sat back and took in the calm of the starlit sky overhead, after retreating back to the manor house where I was staying.

Roaring fireplaces

There are a number of smaller cabins and cottages for those who are travelling solo or in a smaller group, but the manor house offers a more grand experience.

It’s a bit like a miniature version of The Traitors castle, with roaring fireplaces, ornate bathtubs, high ceilings and a grand staircase.

The 19th-century property was originally owned by Captain Swinburne, a Royal Navy seafarer, and it started out as a hunting lodge.

Swinburne went on to develop a great love for the pine trees that he saw on his travels and ended up transforming the landscape of Eilean Shona into one of the most diverse pine collections in Europe.

However these spectacular trees are only part of what makes the island’s surrounding so breathtaking.

My mornings consisted of refreshing plunges off the manor’s pontoon into chilly water, followed by dashes into the sauna afterwards.

You can follow it up with a hike or kayaking, or head to the other end of the island to see a gorgeous beach, which is like nowhere else in the UK, where soft, sugar-like sand meets serenely calm waters.

Eilean Shona House is the island’s main accommodation, sleeping up to 18 people, with a dining room that can host up to 20.

There is a library as well, with a full-sized billiards table, dartboard and a large collection of board games, while in the drawing room sits a grand piano, a cosy seated alcove and views of the loch.

The house can be booked either self-catering or fully catered, with a minimum stay of three nights.

Other options include the Shepherd’s Cottage, which sleeps two people, and the Old Schoolhouse, which sleeps four.

On Eilean Shona I could exchange the real world for Captain Hook’s imaginary version — and for a short time, I didn’t need to worry about growing up.

Welcome to Screen Gab, the newsletter for everyone who wants to spend some time revisiting Rob Reiner’s indelible mark on pop culture.

For many of us, it was already that time of year when we pop in our DVD of “When Harry Met Sally…” or figure out which streaming service has it in its library (or digitally rent it, if none do), and passively recite every quotable moment until Harry’s breathless declaration of love on New Year’s Eve necessitated our full performance. It was a comfort watch in the best sense because of how joyous and hopeful it left so many of us, even cynics, feeling. This year, as the tradition now becomes layered with sadness following the tragic deaths of Reiner and his wife, Michele Singer Reiner, there’s at least comfort in knowing all the Hollywood magic he brought to life (whether he was directing, or starring in a production) that was full of humanity, humor and heart, and accompanied us at different stages of our lives, can continue to do so. Members of our film team took a look at some of Reiner’s best films, many of which can be streamed. And TV critic Robert Lloyd reminded us of Reiner’s contributions to television, particularly through shows like “All in the Family” and “New Girl” (“Lettuce, tomato, lettuce, meat, meat, meat, cheese, lettuce” — iykyk).

But if it’s all too soon, we get it. Maybe our other streaming recommendations can provide an escape — one is a TV drama about a disillusioned Broadway director returning home to his amateur community theater, and the other is a mystery thriller with an unlikely duo teaming up to investigate the case of a missing girl.

Also in this week’s Screen Gab, “Emily in Paris” actor Samuel Arnold stops by Guest Spot to tell us about the behind-the-scenes adventures of the show’s Italian-set fifth season.

ICYMI

Must-read stories you might have missed

Julianne Hough near the Dolby Theatre at the 97th Academy Awards earlier this year. The Oscars are moving to YouTube, sending shock waves through Hollywood.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

What the Oscars moving to YouTube means for broadcast TV: The Academy Awards will stream on YouTube beginning in 2029, ending a more than five-decade run on broadcast television and marking the show’s biggest distribution shift in its history.

How do Lifetime and Hallmark keep Christmas movies fresh? Pickleball and the NFL: For the two cable networks, tapping into niches, hobbies and sports teams allows them to invite new audiences in, while keeping loyal viewers satisfied with a break in formula.

Diversity and representation of women on streaming TV series in sharp decline, UCLA study shows: The latest edition of the Hollywood Diversity Report released Tuesday determined that the top shows in 2024 were less culturally diverse than the previous year.

Hollywood was built on movie stardom. AI is changing the rules: Synthetic performers are forcing Hollywood to rethink how fame works and who gets to claim it. Even as the technology races ahead, legal concerns are mounting.

Turn on

Recommendations from the film and TV experts at The Times

Harry McNaughton as Charlie Summers, a disillusioned Broadway director returning home to his amateur community theatre in “Happiness.”

(Andi Crown Photography / PBS)

“Happiness” (PBS app, pbs.org)

What could be better, at this festive time of year, or any other time, than a backstage musical comedy set in an amateur theatrical company in New Zealand’s fifth-largest city? Harry McNaughton plays Charlie Summers, whose Broadway dream dies when he’s fired as the director of a “Cats” revival and, losing his work visa, returns home to New Zealand for what he hopes will be only a couple of days. Naturally, it turns out otherwise, with Charlie drawn reluctantly into the production of a new musical, “The Trojan Horse,” at the Pizazz theater, run by his mother (Rebecca Gibney) and stocked with a original twists on classic characters: a dictatorial director, the always-cast leading lady, a talented ingénue, a buff electrician with a great voice and the shy high school music teacher who wrote it, making themselves and their desires quickly felt. (There’s a feminist thrust to the plot.) The songs are tuneful and witty, the performances fun, the atmosphere charged but charming. Presented in six 20-minute episodes as part of “Masterpiece Theater.” — Robert Lloyd

Emma Thompson as private investigator Zoë Boehm and Ruth Wilson as art conservationist Sarah Trafford in “Down Cemetery Road.”

(Matt Towers / Apple TV)

“Down Cemetery Road” (Apple TV)

Nothing says the holidays like a gripping crime drama where everyone’s a suspect! Apple TV’s smart and unvarnished British series follows Zoë Boehm (Emma Thompson), a private investigator who hasn’t the time or bandwidth for social niceties, shows of emotion or combing her hair. She’s thrown together with homemaker and art restorer Sarah Tucker (Ruth Wilson), a passive suburbanite who likes 4 Non Blondes.

Their sparring personalities create the undeniable chemistry that’s at the heart of this eight-part series, while the drama’s unexpected turn of events and fast pacing make it hard to hit pause. The two women are connected when a deadly residential explosion rocks Sarah’s neighborhood. A woman was killed, but her young daughter, who made it out alive, has mysteriously disappeared. The quest to find the girl pulls the odd-couple investigators into a complex and dangerous cover up by the Ministry of Defense, and they discover the explosion was in fact an orchestrated assassination.

Morwenna Banks’ adaptation of Mick Herron’s debut novel of the same name, “Down Cemetery Road” also features the PTSD-plagued Downey (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett), the villainous Amos (Fehinti Balogun), bumbling agent Hamza Malik (Adeel Akhtar) and his sociopathic boss, C (Darren Boyd). But it’s Thompson’s gruff character who gets the best lines, such as the one she says to a potential client: “I don’t drink Prosecco and I don’t bond emotionally.” The show has already been renewed for a second season. — Lorraine Ali

Guest spot

A weekly chat with actors, writers, directors and more about what they’re working on — and what they’re watching

Samuel Arnold as Julien in Season 5 of “Emily in Paris.”

(Netflix)

Every office needs a deliciously snarky employee who is too fabulous to work, but still manages to grace the room with their presence to boost the vibe. In “Emily in Paris,” that person is Julien. The quippy, sharply dressed and gossip-loving character, played by Samuel Arnold, has been a bright spot in the series over its run. Initially the guy who liked to remind Emily she was une ringarde American, he’s softened his stance on his fish-out-of-water colleague. But as the Agence Grateau luxury marketing team ventures to Italy this season, which is now streaming, his side eye shifts focus to a new co-worker. Over email, Arnold shared what it was like shooting outside their usual setting and the animated series he returns to over and over. — Yvonne Villarreal

The Grateau team spent time in Italy this season. Some filming took place in Rome and Venice. What’s a memory or experience that stands out from filming there? Did any place there become a go-to spot for you when you weren’t shooting?

Rome was incredible, both on and off screen. One moment that really stands out is when Ashley Park and her choreographer, Carlye Tamaren, taught us one of Ashley’s dance routines. Everyone did so well — and Bruno Gouery was absolutely hilarious. When we weren’t filming, one of our favorite meeting spots was the rooftop at the Minerva Hotel. It’s stunning. In Venice, we would all gather in Bruno Gouery’s room and play a pirate dice game that Lucien Laviscount introduced us to. The city itself felt like a dream.

The series revolves around Emily and her fish-out-of-water experience of building a new life in Paris. How would this series look if it were titled “Julien in Paris”? Five seasons in, what would a slice of his life look like if you could pitch it to Darren Star?

If the show were called “Julien in Paris,” it probably wouldn’t be very exciting — Julien is a Parisian. He has Paris on lock. I like to think he sees himself as the prince of the city. Now, Julien in New York City — opening his own marketing firm there — that’s a different story. I can already feel the drama.

Julien is very discerning and could spot the games Genevieve was playing. How do you think he handled her, and the position he was in, knowing this secret could damage Emily and Mindy’s friendship?

I think Julien handled it pretty well. It’s not a great position to be in. When one friend hurts another, the right thing to do is to encourage the person at fault to do the right thing. And when someone like Genevieve — played by the absolutely lovely Thalia Besson — tries to stir up trouble, Julien definitely knows how to deal with that in the best possible way.

With all the love triangles (and squares), who would you, Samuel, pick for Emily — Gabriel or Marcello? And for Mindy — Nicolas or Alfie?

I don’t think I should be picking men for those women. What I can say is that they should follow their hearts and embrace whatever comes with that. Honestly, we should all try to do the same.

What have you watched recently that you’re recommending to everyone you know?

I recently watched “Safe House” [Netflix], with Lucien Laviscount as a badass action hero. The casting is great, the ending really catches you off guard, and Lucien does his own stunts — which makes it even more impressive.

What’s your go-to comfort watch — the movie or TV show you always come back to?

“Rick and Morty” [Hulu]. It never gets old. It’s funny, packed with pop-culture references — which I love — and the voice acting is just incredible.

It is often said that film directors are siloed off from one another, that they don’t get to watch how others work. So when you put a group of them together, as with the six participants in The Envelope’s 2025 Oscar Directors Roundtable, they are quick to share all sorts of ideas. Like where they prefer to sit in a movie theater — centered in a row or on an aisle? How far back is the best for sound, or so the screen runs up to the edges of your peripheral vision? Should you even take the worst seats in the house, since somebody will eventually be asked to pay money to sit there?

Guillermo del Toro, there with his adaptation of Mary Shelley’s classic novel “Frankenstein,” likes the top of the first quarter of the theater. Rian Johnson, who finds new twists for Benoit Blanc in his third “Knives Out” detective story, “Wake Up Dead Man,” says, “I look for wherever Guillermo’s sitting.” Nia DaCosta, who made the bold, adventurous Ibsen adaptation “Hedda,” likes the top of the first third. Mona Fastvold, who explores the life of the founder of the religious movement known as the Shakers in “The Testament of Ann Lee,” likes the center a little farther back. Jon M. Chu, who made the second part of a musical adaptation with “Wicked: For Good,” sits dead center — and has been known to talk to the theater manager if the sound isn’t loud enough. And Benny Safdie, who explores the rise and fall of mixed martial arts fighter Mark Kerr in “The Smashing Machine,” tries to find a spot where he can fidget in his seat and not bother anyone.

Read on for more excerpts of their conversation about the art of adaptation, navigating budget constraints at any scale and much more.

Jon, I’ve heard you say that with “Wicked: For Good,” you wanted the film to be deeper but not darker. And it doesn’t pull any punches as far as dealing with themes of antiauthoritarianism. What was it like to have those very serious ideas and yet still have this be a buoyant, crowd-pleasing musical?

Chu: The reason we made it was because it had that meat to it, and it was always a two-movie, yearlong experience that set up the fairy tale first. And Movie 2 is kind of where we all are, this moment of this fairy tale shattered in front of us.

I have five children now, so I’m thinking about how to present stories to my kids. Do I still believe in the possibility of dreams and the American Dream? “For Good” really gets to delve into that stuff. And because it was shorter than the first half, we get more room to do it. We added new songs to explore that idea. So it all felt really fitting. Movie 1 could be an answer. Movie 2 is much more of a challenge: Who are we gonna be now that we know the truth?

All of your films in their own way are speaking to right now. Rian, “Wake Up Dead Man” is specifically set in the year 2025 and all the “Knives Out” pictures have been dealing with our contemporary reality. What makes you want to do that?

Johnson: That kind of started for me with the first movie. This is a genre, the murder mystery genre, that I love and that I’m just seeing so much of growing up. But it’s also a genre where most of what I had seen throughout my whole life, murder mysteries are period pieces set usually in a cozy little bubble of a little “Queensfordshire” place in England.

And I guess my realization was, that’s not what Agatha Christie did. She was not writing period pieces. She wasn’t an incredibly political writer, but she was always writing to her time. It’s not trying to do anything radical in terms of making it new or updating it, but let’s set it very much unapologetically in the modern moment. … You have a group of suspects that have a hierarchy of power amongst them and the person at the top they all wanna bump off — it’s such a potent vehicle for building a little microcosm of society.

Benny, one of my favorite things in “The Smashing Machine” is that it’s funny to realize setting a story at the turn of millennium is a period piece now. What was it like crafting this very specific, recent time period?

Safdie: It’s a time period that I think everybody thinks is just yesterday. But when you actually get into the nitty-gritty, it’s a long time ago. And things were very different and everybody knows exactly what those things are too. Because it was heavily documented, there was so much footage of it, it’s so top of mind. And I think a large amount of people also want to go back there a little bit, to this time where the internet was just kind of happening. People want to go back to this simpler moment. But trying to re-create what that feels like is what I was really going after — just thinking about how you would live in that time, and then represent that in the movie. Because I did want it to kind of feel like time travel.

Guillermo, you’ve spoken so much about how “Frankenstein” has been a lifelong dream project for you. Now that it’s done, where does that leave you?

Del Toro: There’s a massive postpartum depression, No. 1, and it’s real. And it affected me more than I thought it would, to be candid. But fortunately, I’ve been very interested in two new themes that are going to be sure to produce blockbusters, which is memory and regret. The dynamic duo of past 60. And I always thought about that in the abstract, but now I try to make the movies not only about the moment I’m in, but about me.

And I’m seriously trying to express what makes me uneasy, what makes me believe in the possibilities of grace even in the most horrible circumstances. And I’m not talking only social, but personal or philosophical. Something happens when the six clicks in on the counter. And all you can do is [ask], “Do I feel I have something to say, genuinely?” And then you go to that. Cronenberg, I had dinner with him when he was turning 74, and he said you have to scare yourself into being young again.

Nia, “Hedda” is such a bold adaptation of the play “Hedda Gabler.” You switched the gender of one of the main characters. You aren’t afraid to inject issues of race and class and sexual identity into the story. Were you ever concerned that you were asking too much of this classic text?

DaCosta: I wrote it on spec, so I wasn’t thinking about anything besides letting my freak flag fly, basically. I just thought, “This character makes more sense as a woman.” OK, what does that mean now? How does that affect the rest of the story? And then I just go from there. And then it ended up being really bountiful and generative.

And then when I met Tessa [Thompson] three years later, I thought, “Oh, when I write this, eventually Tessa will play Hedda.” So now she’s Black. OK, what does that mean? And Tessa’s also mixed-race. So then you get that element of it as well. And then I chose the 1950s, and then I chose England and the country house. You just treat these things as truths, and the story has to go in a certain direction. So I never worry about those things. Maybe because I’m a Black woman, so my presence or my identity for some people will complicate the story. But for me, it just is life.

Guillermo, in adapting “Frankenstein,” did you feel like you were dealing with the Mary Shelley text and also all the Frankenstein movies that we know?

Del Toro: I put all the cinematic stuff on the side. I didn’t want to make an erudite cinematic movie or a referential movie. I have lived with the three iterations of the text for my entire life. And there’s a lot of the interstitial stuff that I took from her biography, fusing with my biography, because even if you sing a song everybody knows, you’re doing it with your lungs. And your passion and your pain and your throat. … It’s the difference between seeing a living animal and taxidermy. If you just want the text, then buy the text. You cannot be more faithful to that text than reading the text. But if you want to see how we interact and resuscitate something into being emotional again, then that’s what we try to do.

Mona, “The Testament of Ann Lee” is a story told with music, but is it a musical? Is that a question you asked yourself as you were making it?

Fastvold: I consider it a musical. I do. But it’s just a different kind of musical. No one’s singing dialogue. It’s not magic when they start to sing. I think, as I was writing the script with Brady [Corbet], we realized early on it had to be a musical because the Shakers worship through ecstatic song and dance. They would be moved by the divine spirit and then receive a song or a piece of movement, and then they would start to sing and dance. Their life was a musical, so that’s what it had to be. And that was exciting to me, to create the whole structure of that.

But it couldn’t be, “OK, here’s a story and then here’s an amazing musical number.” It had to come from this place of worship. So all the musical bits and pieces of the film, our moments of feeling moved by the spirit and having this sort of religious experience, it had to be grounded in that and it had to be really organic-sounding and -looking. So we had to ground it in live recordings and create the soundscape and the music in dialogue with my choreographers. Every body slap and stomp is part of the rhythm and the music of it, because it couldn’t just be where diegetic audio fades out and then there’s this great, wonderful piece.

Chu: In a weird way, we all make musicals. All the movies, everybody has a take on how music integrates with it.

Del Toro: I was aiming for opera.

Guillermo, Jon, both of your films have a sense of scale to them. What kind of challenges does that present? Is it wrangling all the extras? Is it having the sets built on time? Jon, just the number of florists credited at the end of “Wicked: For Good” is wild.

Chu: It’s like building Disneyland, essentially. We had the warehouses going — there’s first a recording studio, so we’re recording music while their dance rehearsals are going on. You have hundreds and hundreds of people. Then you go to the costumes department and then you have the hair, just the wigs alone. People are getting there at 2:30 in the morning. And that’s before you even start the day.

We were planning two movies at the same time. So we had 20-something musical numbers rehearsed and worked with our cinematographer and our team to understand everything and build sets around these pieces. And then you get there on the day and how do I say, “Hey, all that stuff we did, this is actually happening over here. Let’s move everything over here”? I felt the hardest thing was being OK with wasting money if it was the right thing to do at that moment. I needed to feel free and had everybody aware that if I’m moving all of a sudden, we’ve got to go and we’ve got to figure it out. And I think that’s where the magic is.

Del Toro: To me, it’s three things. The first one is tonal, meaning everything that you do, you’re not doing eye candy, you’re doing eye protein. You’re telling a story. So it’s not about looking good or looking big. It’s about, does the gesture happen at the right moment? Because you can make gestures on the wrong moment of the film, and they don’t have a dramatic impact. I say we designed the movie for the Creature to feel real, of a piece with the world. So that’s the first one.

The second one: Is it expressing something different every time we go to a bigger thing? It’s not about the scale. And the final one to me is, does it feel real in the world? So the way I go at it is, there’s no typeface, no paint, no photograph, nothing, that cannot be investigated and designed to within an inch of its life. Even great movies, I’m very fidgety. I go, “That’s not a painting from the 1930s. Somebody painted it much later.” Or a typeface or a carnival banner or something like that. So at the end of the day, if you do your job right, you have a world and people just get into it almost like a vibe. Nobody should notice, but if you do it right, they want to experience it over and over again.

Rian, you make a really bold decision in “Wake Up Dead Man,” where the signature character of the series, Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc, is offscreen for much of the first 45 minutes or so of the movie. Did you have to convince people that’s the way things should go?

Johnson: Not really. For this one, first of all, it is a little closer to actually a traditional detective structure. That’s kind of how most Agatha Christie books work, is you meet the suspects in the first act. You get a very good idea of who’s gonna get bumped off. And then, end of the first act, the murder happens, and then the detective shows up and starts to solve it. So there was a precedent for it. But the real reason I had done backflips in the previous two movies to get around that was so we could get Blanc in there earlier. The reason it made sense for this [is] because Father Jud, who’s played by Josh O’Connor, [is] kind of the protagonist of it because of the themes of religion, and so the whole lay of the land was more complicated and delicate in this one to set up. I felt like the audience would be best served by having that runway and getting the time before this powerhouse that is Daniel playing Benoit Blanc comes in and brings this whole new energy to it.

The other thing that I’ve landed on with them is you have to constantly resist the candy of the mystery. You have to always remind yourself [that] the mystery elements are not a load-bearing wall, that those are never going to keep an audience entertained or engaged. You need to do the same thing you do in any movie where you have an emotional, bold line going that’s thrown at the beginning, that lands at the end. And the mystery then has to support that.

Mona, with “Ann Lee,” but also with “The Brutalist,” it seems like the movies that you and Brady Corbet are collaborating on together, you’re doing so much with relatively limited resources. What is it that the two of you are doing in these films that you’re able to make them seem so grand?

Fastvold: I mean, there’s no trick. I had to prep for almost a year for this one, because I knew that no one was going to give me a lot of money to make a musical about the founders of the Shakers. It was not gonna be this sexy pitch. It was a hard pitch. So I knew that it was going to be a limited budget. But at the same time, I just desperately wanted “Ann Lee” to have a really grand story. And I wanted there to be a believable, lush world. And I wanted to tell a story about her whole life, not just a day in her life.

So I had to make it work somehow. It was so much about saying, “OK, I’m working with my [director of photography], my production designer, my costume designer every weekend and night for months and months before we started official prep. And same with my choreographer and composer and with all of the cast as well, just rehearsing. Amanda [Seyfried] was rehearsing at night while she was shooting something else. She would go and have dance rehearsals at night, on the weekends, so we could keep on adjusting.

So the only way that I could, to quote David Lynch, get dreamy on set, which was something I really wanted, was by having so much prep time, and then just really knowing what my Plan A and B was, and to sort of experiment in advance more. And because I knew there’s no way that you can try and build a world and then have the same flexibility on this budget, it’s all about knowing every line item in my budget, what everything costs in Hungary, what everything costs in Sweden. “OK, this is how much a cherry picker in Hungary costs, and therefore I’m gonna take out two shots and only build half the roof.”

The 2025 Envelope Directors Roundtable. Top row, left to right: Rian Johnson, Benny Safdie, and Mona Fastvold. Bottom row, left to right: Nia DaCosta, Jon M. Chu and Guillermo del Toro.

Chu: I think that’s one of the biggest lessons I learned being a director. You don’t have a right to make your movie, because it costs so much and you need so much help. You do have to earn the right to make your movie. That is a part of our job.

Nia, you come to “Hedda” having just made a Marvel movie. You’ve just also finished a sequel to “28 Years Later.” Is there a secret through line for you that connects all these projects?

DaCosta: Being a nerd, Marvel, horror, comic books, for me, those things that I’ve done that I haven’t written are worlds that I loved as a kid. So “Candyman” was hugely important to me when I was younger. I used to love Marvel comics as a kid. “28 Days Later” is one of my formative films that I watched. And so when the opportunities came up to be a part of those worlds, it was really exciting for me. And then “Hedda,” I’m a theater nerd too, so I just really go by my passion, and I’m really compelled by just interesting characters.

“Hedda” and “28 Years Later” are very different films, but for me, they were so similar because I learned from my experience jumping into the studio system after making a sub-million-dollar movie [“Little Woods”] what works for me and what doesn’t work for me. And what works for me is really being given authorship. And so I’m setting the tone early. We’re not here to battle. We’re here to make the vision that I have. And if you’re into it, cool and great, let’s work together. If you’re not into it, then it doesn’t have to exist or I’ll find another way for it to exist.

Del Toro: The ambition should always be beyond the budget. If they give you $130 [million], you want to make a movie that is $260 [million]. But the way to that I found by doing “Devil’s Backbone,” which is $3 million, or “Shape of Water,” which is $19.3. “Shape of Water” opened with all the different sets in the first 15 minutes. And then it’s two sets. Lab, apartment, lab, apartment, lab, apartment. I always tell the departments, let’s choose meatballs and gravy. Where do we put the real resources? You reach a plateau no matter what the budget. Never spend money on a plateau. It always needs to mean something.

Safdie: You pick and choose the moments when you’re gonna get big. We were doing the hospital scene and then we built the plane in the hallway of the hospital. Because that was the most affordable. But there was a column in the middle of the plane, and I would always joke that we should go through the column. I find those limitations exciting. Because you really have to figure it out.

Rian, “Glass Onion” had a more robust theatrical release than “Dead Man” has gotten. Do you feel like as filmmakers that all of you are being put in this position of fighting for the future of theaters and moviegoing?

Johnson: I actually feel incredibly optimistic at this moment about the future of moviemaking. I don’t feel that way because we’re all picking up signs and marching down the street and preaching to people that they need to keep this sacred. I feel optimistic about it because I go to movie theaters and I see them packed with young people who want to go to movie theaters and have that experience.

And I see them coming out for new movies. I see them at revival cinemas. I see theaters at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday showing a Melville film that are just full of young people who are excited. And then you see it with movies that have come out this year. You see it with something like Ryan [Coogler]’s movie, “Sinners,” or with so many films that have struck chords with audiences and created cultural events. You can’t wag your finger at people and say, “You should be going to the theater and having this theatrical experience,” but you feel it rising right now. And so for me, it’s less that I want to advocate for it. It’s more that I want to ride that wave of it coming up.

In a territory where 81 percent of buildings lie damaged or destroyed, a small community of young Palestinians is fighting to preserve what remains of Gaza’s digital world.

Coders, repair technicians and freelance workers are labouring under impossible conditions to keep the besieged enclave connected to the outside world.

Against all odds, Gaza’s youths continue to adapt. They work offline, code in notebooks, store solar power whenever the sun is out, and wait for rare moments of connectivity to send their work to clients around the world.

In a war that has taken nearly everything, digital skills have become a form of survival – and resilience.

Many now also rely on online work to make a living. But even that fragile lifeline is now hanging by a thread after more than two years of Israel’s genocidal war.

According to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics, Israeli forces have “deliberately and systematically destroyed” the telecommunications infrastructure.

“We just always look for another way to get connected, always find another way,” said Shaima Abu Al Atta, a coder working from a displacement camp. “This is what actually gave us purpose because if we didn’t do this, we would just die surviving and not doing anything. We would die internally.”

Before the war erupted in October 2023, Gaza had a modest but vibrant tech scene. Innovation hubs hosted coding bootcamps, and hundreds of freelancers worked remotely for international clients. Much of that ecosystem now lies in ruins.

Shareef Naim, an engineer who led a technology hub, described what was lost. His building housed more than 12 programmers with contracts for companies outside Gaza, he said. “The team was very active,” Naim told Al Jazeera.

Today, the structure is destroyed, though some team members are still trying to work from tents and emergency shelters.

Computer technician A’aed Shamaly says, “The main challenge is electricity. Today, electricity is not available all the time, and if it is available, it is unstable,  and there will be a lot of cuts. Prices are also high.”

Electricity, when available at all, is unstable and prohibitively expensive, $12 per kilowatt compared with $1.50 for 10 kilowatts before the war, he said. “There are no spare parts,” he added, so technicians must scavenge components from broken equipment pulled from bombed buildings.

The scale of destruction is staggering. According to the United Nations Satellite Centre (UNOSAT), approximately 198,273 structures across Gaza have been damaged, with 123,464 completely destroyed. The telecommunications sector has been particularly hard hit.

Data from the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics reveals that 64 percent of mobile phone towers were out of service as of early April 2025. In Rafah, coverage has collapsed to just 27 percent, down from near-universal access before the war.

During the war, connectivity watchdog NetBlocks documented repeated disruptions, including what it called a “near-total telecoms blackout” in January 2024 that lasted for days.

Israel has long restricted Gaza to outdated 2G mobile technology while allowing 4G in the occupied West Bank.

The telecommunications sector’s value has cratered from $13m in 2023 to just $1.5m in 2024, an 89 percent collapse. Estimated losses exceed half a billion dollars, while reconstruction is projected to cost at least $90m.

The consequences ripple across Gaza’s economy and society.

Remote work was a crucial income source in a territory where unemployment exceeded 79 percent even before October 2023. Now, erratic internet access has pushed many freelancers into joblessness just as Israeli-induced famine has sent food prices soaring.

The telecommunications collapse has also paralysed the banking system, preventing money transfers and leaving families unable to access cash. Healthcare has been disrupted, with the World Health Organization documenting deaths caused by the inability to contact emergency services in time.

Even during the fragile ceasefire that took effect in October 2025, Israel has blocked essential repair equipment from entering Gaza. The restrictions form part of what analysts describe as a deliberate strategy to maintain control over Palestinian digital infrastructure and suppress the flow of information to the outside world.

The future remains deeply uncertain, as efforts to push a fragile ceasefire forward appear to stall and Israel threatens the possibility of returning to full-scale war.

In the quiet village of Kozubivka in Ukraine’s Poltava region, Nelia and her husband Oleksandr open their home to people displaced from Kharkiv, where bombing and shelling have forced thousands to flee.

But rebuilding a life in rural Ukraine is not easy. City people must learn to navigate unfamiliar routines on the farm, endure physical labour and bear the emotional weight of displacement. In the process tempers flare despite moments of tenderness.

Through these intimate encounters, Guests from Kharkiv reveals what it means to create community in the middle of a war and the courage it takes to adapt to a new way of life.

A documentary short by Halyna Lavrinets, produced by Eleron Pictures.

Gil Gerard, the actor who became a childhood hero to many for his lead performances in the 1979 movie “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century” and its subsequent TV incarnation, died early Tuesday, his wife announced on social media. He was 82.

“Early this morning Gil — my soulmate — lost his fight with a rare and viciously aggressive form of cancer,” Janet Gerard wrote Tuesday evening on Facebook. “From the moment when we knew something was wrong to his death this morning was only days.”

She was by Gerard’s side when he died in hospice care, she added as she placed another post — a pre-written message from the actor to his family, friends and fans — on her husband’s Facebook page.

“If you are reading this, then Janet has posted it as I asked her to,” the actor wrote. “My life has been an amazing journey. The opportunities I’ve had, the people I’ve met and the love I have given and received have made my 82 years on the planet deeply satisfying.”

The post was followed by myriad comments in which fans spontaneously recalled Gerard’s work as Buck Rogers and shared the influence he had on their lives.

“Your time as Buck Rogers was way too short but it has stayed with me in my childhood memories for 45+ years,” one man wrote. “Your hero was brave, macho, but also kind, compassionate, and fair. I feel as if that was representative of the man you truly were. Thank you for being the kind of ‘make believe’ hero that we should all want to be in real life.”

Another fan replied, “[H]aving met him, I can say he was all that. On and off the screen.”

Wrote another, “Like many here, I grew up watching Gil as Buck Rogers. He was cool… and he was funny… and he was nice. I was happy to find him here after all these years… still cool… still funny… still nice. It was a highlight when he ‘liked’ one of my comments. We’ll keep an eye out for you… 500 years into the future!”

Gerard discussed the allure of “Buck Rogers” with The Times in 2010.

“With our show, the reason people liked it was the humor and the fact that it was colorful and upbeat and it had heroes in it,” he said, chatting at a comic convention in Anaheim. “It was family entertainment. I think it’s great to deal with more serious issues, but you can do it with humor — look at what ‘All in the Family’ dealt with. You can be serious without being relentlessly dark and heavy.”

He also had wishes for the future direction of sci-fi projects, which at the time he observed were “very dark, almost hopeless.” And, he said, “wet.”

“Have you noticed how much rain they get in the future now? Everything is rainy and muddy. I don’t understand, either, how come everybody is so dirty when there’s so much water around everywhere,” Gerard observed with what seemed to be a healthy sense of humor. “Look at ‘Waterworld’ — they live in a place with no land and everyone’s covered in dirt. I don’t get it. You think they’d fall overboard and get clean once in a while.”

Gilbert Cyril Gerard was born Jan. 23, 1943, in Little Rock, Ark., and trekked to New York City in 1969 to give acting a shot, studying at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy.

He drove a taxi to pay the bills and, according to his website, one day a fare told him to show up on the set of the movie “Love Story.” Ten weeks of work on the film followed and his career took off. At first Gerard appeared primarily in commercials, representing companies including Ford, Coca-Cola and Proctor & Gamble until he landed the role of former POW Dr. Alan Stewart on NBC’s “The Doctors.” He put on the white coat and stethoscope for more than 300 episodes of that daytime drama from 1973 to 1976.

Then an agent lured him to the West Coast, where auditions got him noticed by NBC. NBC’s interest led to his casting in the title role in Universal Pictures’ “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century,” starring alongside Erin Gray as Col. Wilma Deering and Pamela Hensley as Princess Ardala.

As William “Buck” Rogers, Gerard played a 20th century astronaut who had come out of suspended animation 500 years in the future, only to discover a planet in ruins. In 1979 dollars, the film earned more than $21 million worldwide, or about $100 million when adjusted for inflation.

His career outside of “Buck Rogers” included appearances on mainstream shows abundant in that era — “Baretta,” “Hawaii 5-0,” “CHiPs” and “Little House on the Prairie” among them — as well as more obscure TV movies with delightful titles: “Reptisaurus,” “Nuclear Hurricane” and “Bone Eater.” “Sidekicks” in the mid-1980s, a couple of years after the release of the Oscar-nominated 1984 movie “The Karate Kid,” saw him playing a cop who becomes the guardian of a pre-teen martial-arts expert. A stint on the short-lived 1990 series “E.A.R.T.H Force” earned him some light snark from The Times’ then-critic Howard Rosenberg.

But Gerard also appeared in successful mainstream films including “The Nice Guys” starring Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling and “The Big Easy” with Dennis Quaid and Ellen Barkin.

Gerard was married and divorced four times before exchanging vows with Janet Gerard in the 2010s. Among his wives was model and actor Connie Sellecca, whom he was married to from 1979 until their divorce was finalized in 1987. They had one child, a son.

In addition to addictions to alcohol and drugs, the actor battled his weight starting in the 1980s, with the once-trim leading man eventually seeing his health suffer as he topped 300 pounds, according to a 1990 interview with People. He later chronicled his 2005 mini gastric-bypass surgery in the 2007 Discovery Health special “Action Hero Makeover.”

“Gil likely saved my life. I was badly in need of weightloss surgery. I was resistant…then i saw a documentary on Gils weight loss journey. It was the impetus I needed as Gil was a hero of mine growing up,” a fan wrote Tuesday on Gerard’s posthumous Facebook post. “I thanked him via email several years ago and he was gracious and kind. I will miss him.”

Gerard appeared to be quite grateful and gracious at the end of his life.

“It’s been a great ride, but inevitably one that comes to a close as mine has,” he wrote in that final prepared post. “Don’t waste your time on anything that doesn’t thrill you or bring you love. See you out somewhere in the cosmos.”

“No matter how many years I got to spend with him it would have never been enough,” Janet Gerard said in closing in her own message on Facebook. “Hold the ones you have tightly and love them fiercely.”

In addition to his wife, Gerard is survived by actor Gilbert Vincent “Gib” Gerard, 44, his son with Sellecca.

This lesser-known village features in All Creatures Great and Small, which is set in the 1930s Yorkshire Dales, and offers a ‘true taste of rural England’ with cobbled market squares and beautiful walks

All Creatures Great and Small captivated viewers when it debuted on our screens in 2020, with its delightful period Northern England backdrop – and it transpires the historic town is nearer than you might imagine.

Envision cobblestone market squares, quaint cottage-style shops, and panoramic vistas of the Yorkshire Dales. This perfectly describes Grassington, both in reality and on television. The village provides a charming shopping experience featuring handicrafts, art exhibitions and regional products all curated by independent artisans, plus welcoming establishments for refreshments. Among these establishments is The Hutch Handmade Gift Shop, adored by residents and highly rated amongst Grassington’s attractions.

A visitor described the shop as a “gorgeous spot”, noting on TripAdvisor: “A treasure trove of handmade gifts. Lots of colourful, unique, one-off gifts made by small independent artists, designers and crafters…mostly from Yorkshire.” Another popular attraction that attracts numerous visitors is Grassington Folk Museum. It showcases a fascinating collection of historical artefacts unearthed locally, transporting visitors through time via medical equipment, vintage garments, household objects, geological samples and agricultural keepsakes.

Many regard it as a “lovely museum”, with one recent visitor saying: “We stopped by on a whim and were so glad we did! Lovely collection of items, and the delightful volunteer in the museum was so friendly and knowledgeable! I wish I had gotten her name. Well worth a visit.”

The settlement provides a “true taste of rural England”, which is precisely why it served as the perfect backdrop for a popular television programme. The plot centres around three veterinarians operating in the Yorkshire Dales during the 1930s and draws inspiration from novels penned by writer Alf Wight.

The village serves as an excellent base for outdoor enthusiasts eager to discover the surrounding countryside. Numerous walking and cycling trails await exploration, including a brief circular route connecting Grassington with neighbouring Dales settlement Hebden. Another pathway offers a seven-mile return journey from Kettewell to Grassington.

Home to approximately 1,000 residents, this peaceful location provides genuine serenity. Nowhere captures this tranquil atmosphere better than the town’s Linton Falls, where the River Wharfe tumbles dramatically over spectacular limestone formations. The area’s natural splendour attracts countless visitors. One recent reviewer said: “This place is magnificent! Standing on the bridge as the water thunders beneath is breathtaking. We were even able to have a little paddle upstream.” For those yearning for more natural beauty, Widdop Reservoir is equally stunning and provides a tranquil atmosphere throughout the year. The secluded moorland presents a delightful walk that spans approximately three miles around the reservoir.

Carl Carlton, the funk and R&B singer known for upbeat, era-embodying singles like “Everlasting Love” and “She’s a Bad Mama Jama (She’s Built, She’s Stacked)” has died. He was 72.

Carlton’s son, Carlton Hudgens II, posted to social media confirming the death on Sunday. “RIP Dad, Legend Carl Carlton singer of She’s a Bad Mama Jama. Long hard fight in life and you will be missed.” The post did not cite a cause of death.

Born Carlton Hudgens in Detroit in 1953, he debuted as “Little Carl” Carlton, but changed his stage name and moved to Houston after he was signed to the local label Back Beat Records. He had a minor soul-scene hit in 1971 with “I Can Feel It,” and broke through nationally in 1974 when his regal cover of Robert Knight’s “Everlasting Love” hit No. 6 on Billboard’s Hot 100 and spent 15 weeks on that chart.

Carlton is perhaps best known for his 1981 single, “She’s a Bad Mama Jama (She’s Built, She’s Stacked),” a grooving and awestruck ode to the female form that hit No. 22 on the Hot 100 and helped his self-titled album that year reach gold status.

The song has enjoyed a long life in popular culture — it’s been sampled by rappers like Foxy Brown, BigXThaPlug and Flo Milli, and frequently appeared on soundtracks for TV shows and films like “Friends.”

He continued releasing records into the ‘80s, and appeared several times on “American Bandstand” and “Soul Train,“ though his output slowed in the ‘90s. In 2003, he performed for Barry Glazer’s TV special, “American Soundtrack: Rhythm, Love, and Soul,” which featured Aretha Franklin and other marquee R&B and soul acts. His last album was 2010’s gospel LP “God Is Good.”

Hours after Rob Reiner and his wife, Michele, were found dead in their home in what is shaping up to be a heartbreaking family tragedy, our president blamed Reiner for his own death.

“A very sad thing happened last night in Hollywood. Rob Reiner, a tortured and struggling, but once very talented movie director and comedy star, has passed away, together with his wife, Michele, reportedly due to the anger he caused others through his massive, unyielding, and incurable affliction with a mind crippling disease known as TRUMP DERANGEMENT SYNDROME, sometimes referred to as TDS,” President Trump wrote on his social media platform. “He was known to have driven people CRAZY by his raging obsession of President Donald J. Trump, with his obvious paranoia reaching new heights as the Trump Administration surpassed all goals and expectations of greatness, and with the Golden Age of America upon us, perhaps like never before. May Rob and Michele rest in peace!”

Rest in peace, indeed.

It’s a message steeped in cruelty and delusion, unbelievable and despicable even by the low, buried-in-the-dirt bar by which we have collectively come to judge Trump. In a town — and a time — of selfishness and self-serving, Reiner was one of the good guys, always fighting, both through his films and his politics, to make the world kinder and closer. And yes, that meant fighting against Trump and his increasingly erratic and authoritarian rule.

For years, Reiner made the politics of inclusion and decency central to his life. He was a key player in overturning California’s ban on same-sex marriage and fought to expand early childhood education.

For the last few months, he was laser-focused on the upcoming midterms as the last and best chance of protecting American democracy — which clearly enraged Trump.

“Make no mistake, we have a year before this country becomes a full on autocracy,” Reiner told MSNBC host Ali Velshi in October. “People care about their pocketbook issues, the price of eggs. They care about their healthcare, and they should. Those are the things that directly affect them. But if they lose their democracy, all of these rights, the freedom of speech, the freedom to pray the way you want, the freedom to protest and not go to jail, not be sent out of the country with no due process, all these things will be taken away from them.”

The Reiners’ son, Nick Reiner, has been arrested on suspicion of murder. Nick Reiner has struggled with addiction, and been in and out of rehab. But Trump seems to be saying that if Nick is indeed the perpetrator, he acted for pro-Trump political reasons — which obviously is highly unlikely and, well, just a weird and unhinged thing to claim.

But also, deeply hypocritical.

It was only a few months ago, in September, that Charlie Kirk was killed and Trump and his MAGA regime went nuts over anyone who dared whisper a critical word about Kirk. Trump called it “sick” and “deranged” that anyone could celebrate Kirk’s death, and blamed the “radical left” for violence-inciting rhetoric.

Vice President JD Vance, channeling his inner Scarlett O’Hara, vowed “with God as my witness,” he would use the full power of the state to crack down on political “networks” deemed terrorist. In reality, he’s largely just using the state to target people who oppose Trump out loud.

And just in case you thought maybe, maybe our president somehow really does have the good of all Americans at heart, recall that in speaking of Kirk, Trump said that he had one point of disagreement. Kirk, he claimed, forgave him enemies.

“That’s where I disagreed with Charlie,” Trump said. “I hate my opponent and I don’t want the best for them.”

There’s a malevolence so deep in Trump’s post about Reiner that even Marjorie Taylor Greene objected. She was once Trump’s staunchest supporter before he called her a traitor, empowering his goon squad to terrorize her with death threats.

“This is a family tragedy, not about politics or political enemies,” Greene wrote on social media. “Many families deal with a family member with drug addiction and mental health issues. It’s incredibly difficult and should be met with empathy especially when it ends in murder.”

But Trump has made cruelty the point. His need to dehumanize everyone who opposes him, including Reiner and even Greene, is exactly what Reiner was warning us about.

Because when you allow people to be dehumanized, you stop caring about them — and Reiner was not about to let us stop caring.

He saw the world with an artist’s eye and awarrior’s heart, a mighty combination reflected in his films. He challenged us to believe in true love, to set aside our cynicism, to be both silly and brave, knowing both were crucial to a successful life.

This clarity from a man who commanded not just our attention and our respect, but our hearts, is what drove Trump crazy — and what made Reiner such a powerful threat to him. Republican or Democrat, his movies reminded us of what we hold in common.

But it might be Michael Douglas’ speech in 1995’s “The American President” that is most relevant in this moment. Douglas’ character, President Andrew Shepherd, says that “America is advanced citizenship. You’ve got to want it bad, because it’s going to put up a fight.”

Shepard’s rival, a man pursuing power over purpose, “is interested in two things and two things only — making you afraid of ‘it’ and telling you who’s to blame for ‘it.’ ”

Sound familiar?

That our president felt the need to trash Reiner before his body is even buried would be a badge of honor to Reiner, an acknowledgment that Reiner’s warnings carried weight, and that Reiner was a messenger to be reckoned with.

Reiner knew what advanced citizenship meant, and he wanted badly for democracy to survive.

If Trump’s eulogy sickens you the way it sickens me, then here’s what you can do about it: Vote in November in Reiner’s memory.

Your ballot is the rebuke Trump fears most.

And your vote is the most powerful way to honor a man who dedicated his life to reminding us that bravery is having the audacity to care.

Michele Singer Reiner, who was killed along with her husband, filmmaker Rob Reiner, on Sunday at their home in Los Angeles, was a photographer who moved from still images into filmmaking and later into producing, with work that blended performance, politics and persuasion. She was 70.

Singer Reiner was gigging as a photographer in the late 1980s, visiting film sets as part of her income. One of those sets was “When Harry Met Sally …,” the romantic comedy Rob Reiner was directing in New York, a film that would go on to become one of the era’s defining hits. Having divorced actor and director Penny Marshall eight years earlier, Reiner said he noticed his future wife across the set and was immediately drawn to her.

Scripted by Nora Ephron, the film was originally written to leave its central couple, played by Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal, separate, crossing paths over the years without ending up together. But after meeting Singer Reiner, Reiner reconsidered. He rewrote the final scene so the characters reunite and marry, an ending that helped make the film a beloved classic.

The two married in 1989, months after the film’s release. They went on to have three children: Jake, born in 1991; Nick, born in 1993; and Romy, born in 1997.

Hours after the couple were found dead at their Brentwood home, Nick Reiner — who had struggled for years with substance-abuse issues — was taken into custody and booked into Los Angeles County jail on suspicion of murder, according to jail records. He had spoken publicly about getting sober by 2015, when he worked with his father on “Being Charlie,” a semi-autobiographical film about addiction and recovery that Rob Reiner directed and Nick co-wrote.

After their marriage, Singer Reiner worked on several of Reiner’s films, as a special photographer on “Misery,” his 1990 adaptation of the Stephen King novel, among others. Their marriage also became a working partnership. As Reiner’s career expanded beyond studio films into documentaries and political projects, Singer Reiner — who earlier in her career had photographed the cover of Donald Trump on the photo of his 1987 bestseller “The Art of the Deal” — was closely associated with those efforts, collaborating on films and advocacy campaigns that increasingly overlapped.

Their civic strand emerged early. In the 1990s, she and Reiner started the I Am Your Child project, an effort aimed at raising awareness about early childhood development and expanding access to support services for parents.

The initiative coincided with Reiner’s emergence as one of Hollywood’s most prominent political voices. He was a founding board member of the American Foundation for Equal Rights, which led the legal fight to overturn Proposition 8, the California ballot measure that banned same-sex marriage. He was also a central figure behind Proposition 10, the California Children and Families Initiative, a landmark policy that created an ambitious statewide early childhood development program.

In the last decade, Singer Reiner moved more fully into producing. Her credits included such Reiner-directed projects as “Shock and Awe” (2017), “Albert Brooks: Defending My Life” (2023) and this year’s “Spinal Tap II: The End Continues,” as well as “God & Country,” a 2024 documentary examining Christian nationalism in the United States.

As news of their deaths spread, tributes emphasized the Reiners’ shared public life. Laurie David, an environmental activist and documentary filmmaker who was a close friend of the couple, wrote on Threads that “Rob & Michele — always referred to as Rob & Michele — were an extraordinary couple who worked side by side to make the world a safer, fairer and more just society.”

Former President Bill Clinton and former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton also issued a joint statement calling the couple’s deaths “heartbreaking” and pointing to what they described as the Reiners’ “active citizenship” in defense of “inclusive” democracy. “They were good, generous people who made everyone who knew them better,” the statement said.

Former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi called the loss “devastating,” writing that while Reiner was creative, funny and beloved, Singer Reiner was his “indispensable partner, intellectual resource and loving wife” in all of their endeavors.

JEFF Brazier has admitted that he’s “spending time reflecting on life” after his split from his wife and ongoing family feud.

The This Morning star, 46, who split from wife Kate Dwyer, 35, after seven years of marriage was taking a time out in St Kitts.

Jeff took to Instagram and posted a series of beautiful snaps, with one showing the star standing alone on a sandy beach staring out at a gorgeous sunset

He captioned the snap: “Just had the perfect week in St Kitts thanks to @stkittstourism.

“Celebrating the sunshine and time to reflect on life & work while spending time with the team filming for one of our big @itvwin January competitions.

“Thank you to @mickarchy @roscoyule PB & Anita for being such great company and doing a really top class job.

FEUD OVER

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He then posted some recommendations based on his stay before he said: “Don’t forget to check out the Atlantic and Carribean views from Timothy Hill Overlook.”

Jeff announced he had split from his wife, Kate back in November.

In an emotional statement, Jeff said: “I’m so full of love and gratitude for Kate.

“For all we achieved, for how much we grew, for everything we endured.

“We separated in the Summer and kept it private for as long as we could to give us some time to adjust.

“For 12 years we have been each others safe space, each others biggest supporters at a time when our lives have been busy, painful & complex.

“I’m so proud of how hard we worked, how we kept showing up, we gave everything and more.

“I’m also so full of respect and admiration for the successful career Kate has built and the way she cared for me unconditionally.

“It’s credit to the woman she is that she still checks in to ask how the boys are doing because she is so invested in their lives.

“They love her and I have many friends that love her too. I will miss her family who always went above and beyond to support us.

“My words don’t tell the full picture because they don’t need to.

“We will carry on supporting each other and I know I’ll be celebrating her inevitable wins just like before.

“We both deserve complete happiness and we’re upset that we ultimately couldn’t be that for one another and It felt time to let it go.”

Last week The Sun revealed that his son Freddy was embroiled in a furious row with his pregnant ex girlfriend over their baby’s future.

The 21-year-old is facing devastating consequences before his first child is even born as he continues to clash with Holly Swinburn, 22.

Freddy — son of late Big Brother legend Jade Goody — risks not being on the birth certificate after their latest fallout.

Sources claim they’re at loggerheads over custody of their shared dog, an American Bully named Pablo.

Holly has been accused of backing Freddy into a corner – as she threatens to block him being legally named as the father of her child.

As the former couple are not married, Freddy’s name can’t be automatically included on the birth certificate.

Holly spoke to The Sun on Sunday about why her relationship ended, claiming she dumped him after he held a 3am drugs party with girls at her home while she was away.

Meanwhile, Jeff is still involved in an ongoing family feud between him and the late Jade Goody’s mum Jackiey Budden.

But reports reveal that he has “landed a new fly-on-the-wall reality show” with his sons Bobby and Freddy that allow the Brazier family to set the record straight on a number of things.

WE know Stephen Mulhern as a cheeky chappy TV host with a warm smile who is quick with a gag.

But when his mates Ant and Dec challenged him to make a travelogue, Stephen — best known for TV shows Saturday Night Takeaway, Deal Or No Deal and In For A Penny — was terrified.

Because what people probably don’t know about the 48-year-old is that he has lived, in his own words, a very sheltered life.

And of all the destinations Ant and Dec could have picked for him to visit in their new ITV show, Accidental Tourist, South Korea would be the most challenging one.

What is, in places, a funny entertainment show, turned into a life-changingly emotional experience for Stephen, not least because he had recently lost his father Christopher.

He says: “The idea of doing something out of my comfort zone was terrifying, but recently I feel I’ve wasted a lot of time doing the same things.

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“I’ve thrown myself into work for so many years that I’ve never really gone, ‘Let’s try something new’.

“So when Ant and Dec suggested this, I thought, ‘I’m going to really go for it’.

“It’s taught me a lot. I thought it would just be an experience that lasted for as long as it took to make the show, but it’s actually changed my life.”

Stephen has always stuck to the familiar, like eating roast dinners and holidaying on the Med.

Fear of the unknown has stopped him from ever swimming in the sea or eating mayonnaise.

So when Ant and Dec lined up a host of Korean challenges — including eating octopus and doing a naked sauna — Stephen panicked.

“It exposed so many fears,” he says. “But sometimes you’ve got to break patterns, because otherwise you’ll never grow. It’s too easy to say, ‘This feels comfortable’.

“For example, I’ve always eaten bland food like steak and chips, roast dinners.

“But although I didn’t like a lot of the Korean food, some of it was quite nice. And now I’ve got chilli flakes in my cupboard!”

Born in Stratford, east London, Stephen grew up with market trader parents Christopher and Maureen and siblings Vince, Chris and Susie.

Holidays were in seaside resorts such as Margate, or Butlin’s parks.

He says: “They were the best times. We’re a very working-class family: I worked from the age of 11 in Petticoat Lane with my family and we’d save up enough money to play the penny arcade machines or whatever.”

It’s understandable, then, that Stephen felt pushed out of his comfort zone when he went to Korea.

One particularly moving scene shows him wading into the sea to hand dive for fish with locals. He ends up in anxious tears and almost doesn’t go through with it, telling the producers to stop.

“I’ve never in my life felt anxiety like it,” he admits.

“But I felt so triumphant at the end when I’d done it. It was a very special moment.

“I’ve never got emotional on TV. There are times where I listen to contestants’ stories on Deal Or No Deal where I feel emotional inside, especially when my dad passed away.

“But with this, you can physically see how upset I was.

“Dec’s wife Ali said she could really feel my pain when she watched it.

“This is the most real travelogue you’re likely to see. It’s exposing because it’s the real me, not me as a host, and I’ve never done that before.

“So for the audiences that normally watch my shows, it’s going to be a bit of a curveball.”

Since returning home, Stephen says he feels more relaxed and less anxious. He is also willing to try for further adventures and is considering more travel.

He adds: “I’ve never been so nervous about doing a show but about a week later I realised I was feeling different about everything, and I’m so pleased I did it.”

• Stephen Mulhern: Accidental Tourist is on ITV1 and ITVX from today.

Step into the Dodgers’ team store, turn to the right, and you’ll be staring at Shohei Ohtani.

Not in person, of course. But amid all the jerseys and caps and T-shirts, there is a commercial playing on a loop, with Ohtani waving his fingers through his hair and winking as he displays the product he is endorsing: the top-selling skin serum in Japan.

“Take care of your skin,” the narrator says. “Live life to the fullest.”

Life is good at Dodger Stadium. In the store at the top of the park, you can buy a bottle of skin serum that retails for $118, or World Series championship gear including T-shirts and caps for $54 and up, hoodies for $110 and up, and cool jackets for as much as $382.

If you’re a fan of any team besides the Dodgers, you might despise all the money they spend on players. On Friday after the Dodgers introduced their latest All-Star, closer Edwin Díaz, I asked general manager Brandon Gomes if they really could buy whatever player they wanted.

“Our ownership group has been incredibly supportive, so if we feel like it’s something that meaningfully impacts our World Series chances, we’ve had that support all the time,” he said. “We’re fortunate to be in that position.”

The Dodgers’ owners spend money to make money, and they wisely hired Andrew Friedman a decade ago to tell them where to spend their money. Sounds simple, but some owners do not spend money wisely, and some do not spend money, period.

And sometimes you do both, and it just does not work out.

In the last decade the Dodgers have made the playoffs every year. Take a guess: What other Los Angeles pro team has made the playoffs the most during the last decade?

It’s the Clippers — eight playoff appearances, no championships and now a disaster.

The Dodgers have won three championships over the last decade. You might not remember that the Dodgers’ owners were ridiculed within the industry for spending $2 billion to buy the team in 2012.

At the time I asked co-owner Todd Boehly how he would define successful ownership of the Dodgers.

“You’re not really asking me that, are you?” he said then. “The more World Series we win, the more valuable a franchise it is, right?”

The Dodgers were valued at $8 billion last year by Sportico.

They signed Díaz for three years and $69 million. I asked Gomes what winter signing he recalled as the biggest during the five years he pitched for the Tampa Bay Rays.

Dodgers president of baseball operations Andrew Friedman, left, and Dodgers general manager Brandon Gomes welcome star closer Edwin Díaz during his introductory news conference Friday.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

In 2014, he said, the Rays signed closer Grant Balfour: two years and $12 million — after the Baltimore Orioles withdrew a two-year, $15-million deal following a physical examination.

It’s not just the Rays, or even the small markets. The New York Mets’ spending rivaled the Dodgers last season, but the Mets missed the playoffs and lost free agents Díaz, Pete Alonso and Tyler Rogers this week alone. The New York Yankees sound oddly supportive of a salary cap. The Boston Red Sox and Chicago Cubs talk like big-market teams but do not spend like them.

At the Angels’ team store Friday morning, five customers looked around the team store, where all jerseys sold for 50% off. The attraction at the store Saturday: photos with Santa.

The Angels have not made a postseason appearance since 2014, and their acquisitions so far this offseason: a formerly touted infield prospect once traded for Chris Sale, a talented young pitcher who missed this past season because of injury and another pitcher who finished third in Cy Young voting in 2022 but has not pitched in the majors in more than 18 months. They’ll likely pay those three players less than $4 million combined.

In March, Anaheim Mayor Ashleigh Aitken invited Angels owner Arte Moreno to join her in “an open and honest conversation about the future of baseball in Anaheim.”

This week when the future of the Angel Stadium site came up during an Anaheim City Council meeting, Aitken mused about asking city residents “how much of a priority is it to have the land tied up with a baseball franchise,” Voice of OC reported. (The Angels’ stadium lease extends through 2032, and the Angels have the right to extend it through 2038.)

So consider this a timely holiday reminder for Dodgers fans to give thanks for this ownership group, for what the Dodgers are doing now is exceptional and extremely rare.

It would be nice if the Dodgers made more of a commitment to family affordability — and also if the Dodgers did not charge $102.25 for “an iconic photo op with the 2024 and 2025 World Series trophies” — but their attendance nonetheless hit 4 million for the first time.

This is a Dodger town, and the team is the toast of the town. The Dodgers are the biggest winner in American pro sports right now.

The owners are winners too. On Thursday, Boehly’s company staged its holiday party, and the musicians included Eddie Vedder, Bruno Mars, Anthony Kiedis, Brandi Carlile and Slash. Live life to the fullest, indeed.

Man Vs Baby has just been released on Netflix with subscribers more curious than ever to find out about Rowan Atkinson’s life.

Rowan Atkinson is a British treasure, so it’s no surprise devotees are keen to learn everything about the 70-year-old performer.

Man Vs Baby landed on Thursday, December 11, on Netflix, a four-episode comedy following Trevor Bingley (portrayed by Rowan Atkinson) as he unexpectedly becomes guardian to an abandoned infant in London.

The sitcom may have only just arrived on the platform but has already soared to Netflix’s top spot, demonstrating that audiences remain captivated by the Mr Bean icon.

As fans carry on devouring Man Vs Baby this weekend, here’s everything worth knowing about the legendary Rowan Atkinson.

Unexpected career

Whilst everyone recognises Atkinson primarily for his comedic work, breaking into acting wasn’t his original plan.

He first pursued electrical engineering at Newcastle University and embarked on a PhD at Oxford University when he uncovered his love for performing.

During his Oxford years, he encountered the writer of Four Weddings And A Funeral, in which Atkinson made a brief appearance, and also co-penned the beloved Blackadder.

Stutter

The Man Vs Baby performer has lived with a speech impediment throughout much of his life but has apparently discovered it troubles him less whilst he’s on stage.

Atkinson generally avoids the limelight regardless, but he also steers clear of numerous interviews due to his stammer.

He told Time magazine: “It comes and goes. It depends on my nerves, but it can be a problem.

“I find that when I play a character other than myself, the stammering disappears. That may have been some of my inspiration for pursuing the career that I did.”

Mr Bean

Beyond his memorable role in the Blackadder series, Atkinson’s early work centred on the wordlessly chaotic persona of Mr Bean.

It’s thought that Mr Bean draws from nine year old Atkinson’s experiences after being bullied at school by youngsters who thought he resembled an alien, earning him cruel nicknames such as Doople and Greenman.

Speaking to The Independent, he said: “There’s a lot of Mr Bean in me. He’s socially inept, selfish and has no manners – yet he can be sweet, innocent and well-meaning.”

Personal life

Atkinson was married to makeup artist Sunetra Sastry who he first met in the 1980s during filming of Blackadder’s second season.

Sastry worked as makeup artist for his co-star Stephen Fry, but it wasn’t long before Atkinson formed a connection with her, and they married in 1990.

The couple remained together for 24 years and welcomed children Benjamin and Lily before divorcing in November 2015.

During the divorce proceedings, the pair were midway through building an £11 million property in Oxfordshire.

The star met his current girlfriend Louise Ford in 2013 – who was then dating comedian James Acaster – whilst working on the West End production Quartermaine’s Terms.

Ford, who is roughly 30 years younger, has appeared in Horrible Histories, The Windsors and Crashing. The couple, who became parents to their darling daughter Isla in December 2017, have chosen to keep her away from the public gaze.

Man Vs Baby can be streamed on Netflix.

Lebanese social media pages were filled recently with heated exchanges and views, with people commenting on developments that reflect the deep sectarianism in the country. From a Christmas decoration to stand-up comedy material to the right to citizenship, people in Lebanon are not holding back.

Presenter: Stefanie Dekker

Guests:
Jean Marc Boulos – Content creator
Rodrigue Ghosn – Actor and standup comedian
Ramzi Kaiss – Lebanon researcher at Human Rights Watch

Michelle Kwan’s favorite early Christmas present this year? It’s a little girl, gift-wrapped in a hospital blanket and ready to meet Santa.

The Olympian and former ambassador to Belize just welcomed her second child, Della Rose Kwan, according to a Thursday post on social media.

“My heart doubled in an instant the moment I held her in my arms, and watching my daughter walk into the hospital to meet her baby sister brought tears to my eyes,” the Torrance native wrote on Instagram, captioning a photo of her holding baby Della in the hospital, then talking about her first child, who was born in early 2021.

“I’ve always dreamt of having children, and when Kalista came into the world, I was already beyond grateful for a miracle that once felt impossible after years of trying.”

The 45-year-old is a five-time world champion, nine-time U.S. champion and two-time Olympic medalist, winning a silver and a bronze for figure skating in the 1998 and 2002 Winter Games, respectively. She was an ambassador from 2022 to 2025, during the Biden administration.

Kwan posted additional pictures showing herself and Kalista eating ice cream on the couch in matching Christmas pajamas when mom was still pregnant, an ornament on the Christmas tree holding a photo of the family of three and a short time-lapse video of herself in a black bodysuit showing her midsection growing until she finally holds baby Della in her arms.

Writing that “[g]etting here again has been its own rollercoaster,” she thanked all those who helped “this miracle” to happen. Included in her appreciation was “my love, who I’m so lucky to share my life with,” though she didn’t share that person’s identity.

Kwan was married to attorney and politician Clay Pell from 2013 to 2017.

“After more than a decade of hoping, I still can’t quite believe this moment is real,” she wrote.

“As an Olympian, I’ve pushed my body to its limits and been amazed by its strength — but carrying another life has left me in even greater awe. There were moments of frustration over how little I could control — a humbling reminder that fertility is something none of us can fully predict.”

Kwan then offered well wishes to anyone else dealing with infertility or praying to have children.

“I know what you’re going through,” she said, “and I’m hoping you feel loved and supported in every way as you navigate this journey.”

The tone of the missive is par for the course for Kwan, who explained her approach to life during her competitive years to The Times in early 2020.

“You hope that you made an impression and an imprint, a positive impact on people,” she said at the time, talking about her skating career. “I kind of expressed the journey that I was on, whether it was a good journey or an emotional journey or a sad one, I was never afraid to emote. I feel like the people who partook in that journey experienced a lot of emotional moments during those 20 years with me, and looking back, I was a part of their lives.”

Looks like she’s starting on yet another new journey now.

Gov. Gavin Newsom said Thursday that he is nervous about the public response to his forthcoming autobiography’s candid details about his life and those around him.

“Just being honest — it comes with a cost,” said Newsom, who made the rounds at a Democratic National Committee meeting in Los Angeles on Thursday.

Newsom, who already acknowledged that he is considering a 2028 bid for president, said he didn’t hold back in the book. His co-writer, former Los Angeles Times reporter Mark Arax, told the governor that he wouldn’t be a part of the project unless Newsom was forthcoming.

“And then you read stuff and [wonder] ‘Oh, how’s this going to read?’” said Newsom, who expects that conservative commentators will attack him over some passages.

“This is not a politician’s book, it’s not a book that you would expect me” to write, he said.

“It’s all out there.”

Many of the turbulent and personally traumatic chapters of the California politician’s life are already well-documented. In 2007, Newsom, then mayor of San Francisco, acknowledged that he had an affair with the wife of a longtime aide.

Newsom’s mother, Tessie Newsom, ended her life in 2002 at age 55 through assisted suicide after a long fight with breast cancer.

The governor has also talked about growing up watching his mother struggle to make ends meet, and how oil executive Gordon Getty and his wife, Ann, gave him experiences his parents could not afford, including an African safari when he was a teen.

It’s the third book for Newsom and comes at a pivotal time. Not only is the California governor considering a White House run, he’s become a persistent foil to President Trump and vocal critic to his controversial policies, including the administration’s immigration raids in Los Angeles and failure to provide adequate federal assistance to California wildfire victims.

A promotional book tour would offer a chance to meet with voters in swing states and to appear on a range of media platforms. A memoir specifically allows the governor to reintroduce himself on his own terms at a moment when national interest in his political future is growing.

Newsom’s visit to the DNC meeting was one of his few public events since news broke that his former chief of staff, Dana Williamson, was arrested on federal corruption charges.

Williamson’s attorney McGregor Scott, a former U.S. attorney in Sacramento, told The Times in November that federal authorities had approached Williamson more than a year ago seeking help with some kind of investigation of the governor. Newsom has not been accused of wrongdoing.

Some aspects of the case described in the Williamson indictment match that of a controversial sex discrimination investigation that the state of California led into one of the world’s largest video game companies, Santa-Monica based Activision Blizzard Inc.

Newsom told The Times on Thursday that he doesn’t know whether the U.S. Department of Justice is looking into the state’s handling of the Activision case.

“I don’t know any details about it, but I’m aware of the subject matter, absolutely,” Newsom said.

In 2021, the state sued Activision, accusing it of discriminating against women and ignoring reports of egregious sexual harassment. One of the lawyers overseeing the case for the state was fired by the Newsom administration. Her chief deputy resigned and alleged that she was doing so to protest alleged interference from Newsom’s office in the investigation, a claim that the governor’s office denied.

Newsom’s visit to the Democratic National Committee meeting on Thursday was somewhat of a victory lap for the governor after passage of Proposition 50, the ballot measure that redrew California’s congressional maps to favor Democratic candidates in next year’s midterm elections.

The governor proposed the measure after President Trump asked Texas to redraw its congressional maps in an effort to keep Republican control of Congress.

Walking through the hallways of the InterContinental hotel, Newsom stopped every few yards for conversations with committee members at Thursday’s conference or to pose for photos. He also huddled with a group from Missouri, where Democrats are seeking to overturn new districts created by Republicans.

The governor told reporters that he would help fundraise for the Missouri Democrats’ ballot measure.

His forthcoming book, which will be published in February, is intensely personal, he said in a promotional video released this week. Many people see only his “stark white shirt, blue suit and, yeah, the gelled hair, and they think ‘Oh, I know this guy,’” he said in the video.

“This is a story about a kid who always felt like he wasn’t quite enough,” Newsom said in the video. “This is a truly vulnerable book, it was incredibly hard, even painful, to write.”

Newsom’s first book, “Citizenville, How to Take the Town Square Digital and Reinvent Government,” came out in 2013 after he’d been elected lieutenant governor. He released a children’s book, “Ben and Emma’s Big Hit” in 2021 about a young boy’s love of baseball and attempts to overcome his struggles with dyslexia. The story was inspired by Newsom’s own history with dyslexia.

Last week, Newsom traveled to Capitol Hill to meet with lawmakers and renew calls for billions in federal recovery aid after the Los Angeles fires.

On Thursday, Newsom announced he will deliver his final State of the State address Jan. 8 as he begins his final year as governor. Newsom has delivered his remarks in writing the last five years, breaking with the decades-old tradition of an annual in-person address to lawmakers in the state Capitol. His most recent written State of the State came unusually late, in September.

“Over the past seven years, we have tackled some of the state’s most significant problems and improved countless lives in this miraculous state, blessed and challenged by Mother Nature and enriched by ingenuity and hard work,” Newsom wrote to legislative leaders Thursday in calling for his address to be delivered in person during a joint session of the Legislature.

Have you ever wondered what movie might draw praise from Jacob Elordi and Benicio Del Toro for its cinematic reverie?

When you gather six actors from some of this year’s most acclaimed films, a thoughtful discussion about their roles and the craft is to be expected. But in kicking off The Envelope’s 2025 Oscar Actors Roundtable, the talent reminded us that they’re movie fans like the rest of us, picking the films they wish they could experience again for the first time.

“I’d like to watch ‘The Dark Knight’ again in the exact same circumstance that I watched it,” Elordi said, referring to Christopher Nolan’s dark retelling of Batman’s battle with the Joker. “I was 11 and I was with my dad. I’d been told by my mother that I wasn’t allowed to see it because there’s a horrific sequence with a pencil and a magic trick. My dad — when my mum was away — took me to the cinema to see it. I remember the first time I saw Heath [Ledger, as the Joker] onscreen and really feeling just totally moved by something.”

Then Del Toro chimed in with his pick, “Papillon,” Franklin Schaffner’s 1973 prison film starring Dustin Hoffman and Steve McQueen: “I saw it when I was a kid. We got in late in the movie, and it was a scene where they’re trying to get a gator. And they’re running around the crocodile. I’ve always really enjoyed that film.”

“And you really see Steve McQueen do more in that movie than ever before,” Elordi says. “When he starts going mad in that cell.”

Jesse Plemons is more sheepish when coughing up his selection.

“Everyone’s listing serious movies. The movie that popped into my head was ‘Nacho Libre.’ In life, some things just give you simple pleasures that aren’t necessarily elevated or high art. But that movie makes me very happy, guys.”

There was no judgment. An atmosphere of friendly sharing and mutual understanding was felt throughout the conversation, which brought together Elordi, who portrays the misunderstood and abused Creature in Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein”; Plemons, in his turn as Teddy, a conspiracy theorist who is convinced that aliens live among us in “Bugonia”; Benicio Del Toro, who plays Sergio St. Carlos, a karate sensei and revolutionary immigration activist in “One Battle After Another”; Will Arnett, who stars as Alex Novak, a middle-age suburbanite whose crumbling marriage inspires him to try stand-up comedy in “Is This Thing On?”; Wagner Moura, who portrays Marcelo Alves, a teacher trying to escape the Brazilian dictatorship in “The Secret Agent”; and Stellan Skarsgård, who plays Gustav Borg, a veteran film director and absentee father who decides to make a movie about his family in “Sentimental Value.” Read on for excerpts from our discussion.

These roles take you to intense places — emotionally, physically, mentally. But what’s the furthest you’ve gone to book a role because you really felt like it was something you were meant to play?

Moura: “Narcos” was a crazy adventure for me because I was cast to play that part that had nothing to do with me. I was a skinny Brazilian guy who didn’t speak Spanish at all. So I had to go through a very intense thing. I had to learn a language in order to play a character. That was crazy. That was the the furthest I’ve [gone] to play a part.

Plemons: Those early weeks are a lot of fun, right? The beginning. It’s like Christmas every day.

Moura: The beginning is always like, “What am I doing?” And you go to bed and go like, “Jesus Christ, this is … There’s no way I can pull this off.” At the same time, I remember going to bed and thinking, “Have I done everything I could?” And then I was like, “Yeah, go to bed. Sleep.”

Arnett: Did you ever think about quitting, about not doing it?

Moura: No. I had to go ahead and do it. That director trusted me, and he was like, “You can do it.” I didn’t want to disappoint him.

Have you gotten to that point, Will? Wanting to quit something because it felt like too much?

Arnett: All the time. Doing [“Is This Thing On?”], I felt like I was at the bottom of a mountain. Every day, I thought, “There’s no way I can do it.” I would come home and just think, “That was probably the worst day that anybody’s ever filmed a scene,” then just have to let it go.

With “Is This Thing On?,” you did a stand-up act in front of people, and they were tourists. Some of them didn’t know who you were. And you bombed a few times, right? Place me in that moment, and what does that do for your performance.

Arnett: I had them introduce me by my character name. So the people who did know who I was, we were saying that [they] thought I was probably having a midlife crisis or something, which I was, but for different reasons. I’d never done stand-up before, so going up and doing this in front of people and bombing was super vulnerable. There’s nowhere to hide, and you can’t just walk off. There was one time where I’d done a set at the Comedy Cellar, in the main room, and it was great. And went around the corner, like five minutes later, onto a different stage, with the same material, and it was dead silent. And the only person laughing was Bradley. I could see him laughing, and [I was] thinking, “Can I just walk off stage right now?” That was ego-stripping. It becomes kind of absurd. You end up kind of laughing at yourself, at the absurdity of it. It’s not out-of-body, but you separate yourself from the words as they’re coming out.

Stellan, “Sentimental Value” is, in some ways, about how the choices a parent makes in the service of their job or their art shape the lives of your children. How did it make you reflect on the choices you’ve made in your career and the impact it had on your family?

Skarsgård: I thought it had nothing to do with me. This was a good escape. But my second son, he called me and said, “You recognize yourself?” And I went, “Uh, no.” And of course I don’t recognize myself because he’s a different kind of man. He’s an old-fashioned man in a sense, a 20th century man. And I’m a 21st. [Laughs.] But it reminded me — since I stopped at the Royal Dramatic Theatre [in] 1989, I spent four months a year in front of the camera and eight months a year changing diapers and wiping asses. I don’t think I’ve been away a lot, but it made me think about, “Have you been present?” Not really. I have eight kids, which means there are eight different personalities, and some kids need a lot of attention and some don’t. You’re imperfect, but I’m sort of settled with that. My kids have to settle with it too. They’re not perfect either.

We often hear from the women who are mothers, how they balance their work with their careers. Many of you are fathers. How have you learned to navigate it?

Moura: For me, it’s the most difficult thing ever. I was thinking the other day, “What are the things that really define me as a human being?” Being a father is the strongest one, but being an artist is almost there. It’s hard because with our job, we have to travel a lot, and you’re not always able to bring your kids with you. They have school, and they have their own lives and their own things. I kind of think this is sort of an impossible perfect balance. But like Stellan said, it is what it is. And when I’m with them, I try to be with them. But being aware that, of course, there will be parts of their lives that I won’t be able to be there for them and sort of accept that.

Arnett: It’s funny, I’ve been traveling a lot doing this stuff. I’ve been back for a couple of days, but I’ve been busy. I’ve been going out all day, doing work and doing these things, and my 15-year-old said to me — I checked in on him. He’s doing his homework. I said, “How are you doing?” He said, “Good,” and he said, “I miss you.” And I was in the same place with him. I don’t even know if this is appropriate for this forum, but it really struck me. Him saying that stayed with me all day. And I woke up thinking about [that] this morning, and even this [round table], and saying, “Hey, we’re gonna have dinner tonight.” I had those moments of thinking, “Am I that guy?” Now I’m saying, “Let’s have dinner after … I gotta go do this thing.” It weighs on you. It is the most difficult balance.

Del Toro: I’ve tried to include my daughter in the process sometimes, you know? Sit her down, bounce lines with her, go see the movie when I’m done with the movie. Make her part of it too.

Jacob, so often when you’re talking to an actor, at least on my end, there’s curiosity about the research process and what you’ve had to learn to prepare for a role. But in playing the Creature in “Frankenstein,” this amalgamation of parts, your character’s really in a process of discovery. Did you have to unlearn things? How did you approach that?

Elordi: The nature of the character actually gives you an excuse to be absolutely free because he’s sort of the first man, in a lot of ways. You can really draw from everything and anything, like a smell or light, because he hasn’t felt the sun on his face. But there’s so many things that you can go back on and reconsider. A lot of the process was just closing the world off for the time of filming — not eating a cheeseburger when I wanted to eat a cheeseburger or just little stuff that made me feel Other. But strangely enough, because he’s made of so many different parts, and you get to go from being born to finding consciousness to the death of consciousness at the end, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. You can’t really miss because everything is happening to him all the time. It’s interesting because you say you want to ask someone about the process, but the process is so f— boring.

Plemons: You studied some form of Japanese dance or movement?

Elordi: Guillermo had this idea to study Butoh. It’s a movement thing, like you’re in drama school again where [the instructor]’s like, “Imagine fire in your fingertips and a hurricane in your lungs, and your foot is a steam train.” And then you walk around the room for 40 minutes … I remember being in drama school, and I had to carry a stick that was called my Intellikey for two hours. It was a piece of bamboo. And move around the room as if that stick was a part of my soul or something. Something completely f— absurd. It was a similar process to that, but it was actually helpful because I had something to apply it to that was sort of physically not so human.

Do any of you have a thing that really helped you find your way into a character? Jesse, I feel like you have gone to some dark places.

Plemons: I guess the most curious is I do dream work. There are symbols and whatnot that you are gifted with that may not make sense on a conscious level, or they may. That’s something that’s hard to talk about. Anything that makes me feel like I’m just following my curiosity and I’m not working; I’m just following some trail that I don’t necessarily know where it’s leading — it’s hard to describe because the way I like to work is where anything goes.

Elordi: You kind of know when you get onto that thing too. When a dot does connect. Something happens, then, all of a sudden, you’re six hours down this little road on this sound that you heard in a song or something like that. You also know when it’s not working. But to be conscious about it can mess it up as well, if you’re like, “I’m gonna do this kind of thing and this. And this is gonna go to this voice.”

Does the work need to feel hard in order for you to feel like you’re challenging yourself?

Skarsgård: No. [I need] to not be afraid and not to be blocked; I need to feel safe. And I need [for] everybody on the set, they want me to be good, and I feel it. Then I can be free. I’m with you [Jesse], you have to be in a state where anything is possible. I don’t do backstories for my characters, ever, because it reduces the possibilities. Then you have to follow the backstory — so he couldn’t do that. You, as an actor, say to the director, “No, my character wouldn’t do that.” “How do you know?” Your character might be more interesting than you are.

Plemons: And this thing doesn’t exist yet, this moment —

Moura: There’s no better thing than being in a scene with another actor, and you look at the other guy or the other actors, and you go, like, “This can go anywhere.” Because these other guys, or this other actor, she’s ready to do whatever, to take this wherever. This is the thing that really moves me in a scene. It’s really hard when you work with an actor or with a director that sticks with the thing that they want the scene to be, that thing they thought at home, that they prepared for, and you can’t really move into that space.

Benicio, you really know how to make a character memorable and leave a lasting impression. With Sensei Sergio and what we see onscreen, what were you working with on the page and how much came from you in collaboration with Paul [Thomas Anderson, the film’s director]?

Del Toro: I just asked questions. Paul wants to hear what the actors have to say. I just bombard him with questions. Paul was very flexible … He’s very quick, and if he likes something, he would jump on it. My character was introduced by killing someone in my dojo. So, I asked him, “OK, so I killed this guy in the dojo … I’m not gonna drive Leo anywhere. I have to get rid of the body. And we’re gonna have to clean the dojo or set it on fire. And why am I doing that?” So, from there, it evolved into, like, “We’re not killing anybody.” I approach it a little bit like that — common sense. Logic. But every character is different and every story is different, and every director is different. I’ve been in movies where you just have to find yourself in there. And those are challenging, and they make you better.

“The Secret Agent” really explores how brutal a dictatorship can be on regular people. Wagner, your character Marcelo is not trying to overthrow the government. He’s just a man who’s trying to stick with his values. Tell me about portraying a person in that situation.

Moura: The dictatorship in Brazil was from ’64 to ’85. I was born in ’76, so the echoes of the dictatorship were still there. I remember my parents speaking like [mimics whispering] because they didn’t want people to hear what were they talking about. It’s important that Brazilian cinema is going back there to look at that big scar in our country. I directed a film [2019’s “Marighella”] about a freedom fighter, a guy who wanted to overthrow the government. But this one is different. Like you said, it’s just someone who’s trying to stick with the values that he has. And I think that this is a reality in many different parts of the world, where just the fact that you are who you are makes your life difficult or puts your life in danger, just by the color of your skin or your sexual orientation. You see the dictatorship and and what a dictatorship can do, but not in a obvious way.

Do any of you read reviews?

Skarsgård: Yes, sometimes. I prefer to read the good ones.

Has there been a bad review that propelled you or motivated you or helped you?

Skarsgård: Once I read a theater review that was really bad and that pointed out a grave mistake I made in the show, so I corrected it afterwards. But otherwise —

Elordi: You took the advice?

Skarsgård: Yeah.

Arnett: I did this show for Netflix like 10 years ago, and this guy wrote this review, and I’m embarrassed to say I wrote a point-for-point rebuttal email. I sent it as a draft to Mark Chappell, my partner, and he said, “Oh, hold on. Don’t send it. I’m gonna come over. Let’s talk for a minute.” And I didn’t send it.

Plemons: I’ve got one journalist — I am not gonna say their name — but …

Arnett: Who’s got it out for you?

Plemons: In a way that wasn’t even that intense, but said it [a performance of mine] was “misguided” — which, is just like, “What?” And then I started reading more of his reviews, and everything’s “misguided” to this guy. It’s like, “What do you mean?” So, I’m trying to be less misguided.

Can I jump in with a question for anyone? Talking about that balance between preparation — in certain cases, it’s necessary — then your experience where you rethink all of that. Given the fact that we’re not machines, that on any given day there are a number of variables that influence your mood and influence your mind and influence your ability to relax and do the scene, I’ve thought a lot about that ideal baseline place of being fully relaxed and in your [element]. I wish acting teachers had told me that when I was younger, that that’s like over half of the battle. I’m curious if you have any —

Top row, from left to right: Will Arnett, Wagner Moura and Jesse Plemons. Bottom row, from left to right: Benicio Del Toro, Jacob Elordi and Stellan Skarsgård.

Skarsgård: Tips?

Plemons: No, routines or [an] approach, anything you do to get yourself into a place where you feel like you can leave the preparation and [just be].

Skarsgård: The preparation can serve that purpose. You feel that you’re doing something because it’s a f— strange business, what we’re doing. You don’t know what it is, really, but you feel that, “OK, I’ve done this preparation. I’ve done three months of baking because I’m [playing] a baker.” You feel that you’re prepared, so you feel safer. But, personally, I make sure that the set is safe. I’m first on set. I come in early and, while they’re setting up, I’m gonna see what they’re doing. I’m making sure that I know what all the sound guys, the prop guys, what they’re doing at the same time. So, I feel a part of the unit. That’s my way of feeling safe.

Plemons: Yeah, I find that too. Any time you try and block anything out, you’re missing it. I know that’s sort of a cliche, but the times when I’ve felt maybe the best, I wasn’t blacked out. I was aware of everything.

Elordi: Key to the whole thing is you practice.

Plemons: Yeah, I was looking at the DP I had.

Elordi: That’s when I feel, like, the most comfortable, is when you feel like you are in a dialogue with the operator and the lighting guard and your director, and you’re all in the scene working towards [the same thing]. It’s not like, “Everyone, shut the f— up now. I need complete silence.” Complete silences are unnerving to me on a set. It’s like you’re all trying to reach this point for cut, and then you’ve got that piece of the thing. That makes me feel comfortable when it’s technical and not actually getting lost in this thing of like, “I need complete silence. My body needs to be supple and ready.”

According to Humbe, it doesn’t matter how bad his day is going — a pink sunset can change everything.

As a kid growing up in the Mexican metropolis of Monterrey, the singer-songwriter would seek out the sky’s strangest shapes and study the way light broke through the cloud formations — it would comfort his anxieties and provide creative inspiration. So, when he set out to finish his most recent LP, “Dueño del Cielo,” released on Saturday, he found himself in one of the few places where the sun never truly sets: Iceland in the summertime.

“I envision this album as this planet of ashes. So, I wanted to go into that state, be lonely and create the inner dialogue heard on the album,” said the singer of his sixth album.

Humbe has been playing music from a young age, but he first rose to fame during the pandemic, sharing snippets of his music-making process online. Following the release of his breakout debut album in 2021, “Entropía,” the alternative pop singer earned a Latin Grammy for new artist and has since become well-known for his 2023 single “Fantasmas.” The track honors his late grandpa for Día de los Muertos and tends to go viral each year around the holiday.

“Dueño del Cielo” is the final installment of a trilogy, following 2023’s “Esencia” and 2024’s “Armagedón.” Nearly every track on the latest release signals transformation, in both its lyricism and its sonics. On the opening song, “Luz de Luna,” he gushes about not wanting to miss someone over a heartfelt piano ballad that slips between punky guitar rifts and unpredictable 808 drums. While on tracks like “Harry Stamper” and “Sábanas,” he embraces whimsical synthesizers and staccato vocal patterns to create a mystical soundscape.

On a recent promo trip to Los Angeles, De Los caught up with the 25-year-old Latin alternative pop singer in the days before the release of “Dueño del Cielo.” Humbe will be embarking on his first-ever U.S. tour next year, and will play at the Wiltern on April 9.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

“Dueño del Cielo” is out in a few days. How are you feeling about its release?
It’s surreal. I’ve been working on it for five years, so I can’t believe it. I started writing it at the beginning of the pandemic. The first song was the title track, and it was a song that embodied so much in me. It’s a rebirth and a moment of growth. “Dueño del Cielo” generally represents resurrection. I’ve always been so attached to my current version. I always think, if I like who I am right now, I will want to stick to it and never change. That’s when frustration comes.

This album taught me that change is part of life in the best way possible.

This album is also the final installment in a series, following “Esencia” and “Armagedón.” When did you realize you had a trilogy on your hands?
It feels like the universe spoke it [into existence] in a way. Sometimes things can’t only be coincidences. I realized all three albums were meant to be a trilogy, because they are all albums that essentially celebrate life.

“Esencia” is an album that celebrates the essence of one’s self. “Armagedón” represents how someone or something like a relationship or an addiction can change your whole essence. At first, it can seem just like a shooting star, but then you realize it’s a f— asteroid that’s gonna kill you. Then “Dueño del Cielo” is me finding and regaining that essence. It’s about realizing that from the ashes you can still be born.

What was going on in your life when figuring out how to end this series?
I’ve been searching for inner happiness. I can’t even think about a specific situation, because it’s honestly just a whole bunch of things that just make one’s glass full. I was just sick of everything. I was falling in a depression state without seeking out motivation.

But I realized that everything was due to me trying to find something that maybe wasn’t lost. I realized that life is about reinvention. It’s about deconstruction and reconstruction. That’s what I’ve been doing, and I will keep doing.

A portion of this upcoming album was made in a remote Icelandic town. When did Iceland come into the picture?
My brother, his girlfriend and I were in a sushi bar in Mexico City. We came to the realization that we are young and that we have free will. We figured I’ve been working on this album for five years, and haven’t finished it because we’ve been so distracted with everything else. So, why not take advantage of the fact that we are young, that none of us have kids, that we can travel and that it’s about to be summer in Iceland?

We bought the tickets at the sushi bar and left. It was crazy. We went for a month and a half. It was summer, so there was no darkness — only pure daylight. The darkest it got was blue hours. Living there was so poetic and beautiful.

I envision this album as this planet of ashes. So, I wanted to go into that state, be lonely and create the inner dialogue heard on the album. The album’s perspective changed so much there. It became so versatile.

How do you feel you changed as a musician in Iceland?
I got so much more sensitive towards everything. I gained so much perspective on how live instruments change a song. I used to work a lot with plug-ins and sound libraries. But this time, everything was recorded live.

After Iceland, we recorded everything in Miami. We were able to do the album in 10 days. Then, for the next three months, I kept finding small details to fix, even though I knew I was done. I had such a hard time letting it go that my mom had to tell me to stop.

At what point in the process did your mom have to step in?
I uploaded the album on my way to the sound check. Even on the day of my listening party in Mexico, I was still making changes to the album. That’s when my mom and the mixing engineer told me that it was time to let it go.

She didn’t say it before, so I guess it wasn’t done up until that very moment.

There are 22 tracks on this album, making it your longest project to date. Did you always know this was going to be a lengthy record?
I always wanted to do a long project. I’ve had it on my mind since I was a kid. I wanted to do something like Aerosmith or Queen when they would release those long a— projects that belonged to a concept, back when artists used to create concepts and create universes. That’s what I admired about artists, their ability to invite me somewhere in their fictional world.

What kind of world do you think you’re inviting people into?
I’m inviting them to the sky. Since I was a kid, that’s been a constant in my life. I’ve always been hypnotized by the sky, by the light and how light works with the clouds. Now I am actually in awe every time I see a pink sky or see a nice pair of clouds. It sounds stupid, but you really could have a s— day and end it with a beautiful sunset. It could all change the way you feel.

Were there any sunsets you witnessed while making the album that influenced its sonic direction?
There was this time in Iceland, when I was writing “Murallas.” It was so weird, because the weather was so foggy and it felt like we were in a cloud all day, but mid-session, it cleared up out of nowhere. It eventually became a beautiful sunset that lasted four hours. “Murallas” is such a sad song, and I couldn’t keep writing about something so sad when it was so beautiful outside. So, we stopped working on it and went outside to enjoy.

You started this three-album journey years ago. Now, after finishing its last installment, how do you think making this music has changed you?
I’m a more excited person about everything. I’ve refound a child in me that I thought I’d lost in a way. I really thought he was gone, and I found him again. I feel much more at peace today. It’s so clear to me now that everything changes all the time. That is something this album taught me: I’m ready for anything.

Before Stuart Scott, the phrase “Boo-yah,” was used to express joy. When he made it one of his catch phrases on ESPN, the expression entered the sports vernacular.

Director Andre Gaines explores the impact Scott had on the media landscape in his 30 for 30 documentary for ESPN, “Boo-Yah: A Portrait of Stuart Scott,” premiering Wednesday.

“He can easily be reduced down to a number of different things, maybe his catchphrases, maybe his style,” he told The Times. “All of these types of things are very reductive and have the ability to sort of diminish his legacy, but the reality is that broadcasting, prior to Stu, looked very different than it did after Stuart.”

The Times spoke to Gaines about the emotional journey he had making the film and capturing the “grit and perseverance” that made Scott a staple of journalism. The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.

How did you decide to open the film with a Stuart Scott quote about his dreams?

Gaines: It really had to do with one of the main themes, conceptually, of the film — the fact that Stuart truly believed that you could manifest your own destiny. It was part of his belief when he tried out for the Jets, was part of his belief when he became the icon that he was. It was something that he really saw, and we had this proof of this through his video journals that he kept over the course of his life that we try to showcase very heavily in the film. So, I wanted to start the film off with a quote from him that was exemplary of that.

Why did you decide to use Scott’s voice throughout the documentary?

Gaines: I always try to tell my stories from the perspective of the subject. I don’t want other people dominating the story or telling the story on behalf of the subject. I want the lead character to be the person to narrate their own story, to narrate their own journey, and for Stuart, this proved to be a bit of a challenge, just because he, for so long, was the interviewer and not the interviewee, and there wasn’t, particularly in the early years of his life, there weren’t a lot of interviews to cut a glean from. But after some heavy research, and digging, we were able to find those little gems, either from his own personal archive, of footage that he shot or from interviews that he conducted, or interviews that he was the subject of the interview with other folks, and able to tell that story. I really wanted to give him the platform to carry us through the entire film and be kind of our spirit guide that takes us through his journey and let him be the leader of his own show.

Black sports reporters only make up less than 34%, according to a report by The Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sports. How do you hope this film changes the landscape of sports journalism?

Gaines: The third of the landscape in the first place, we have Stuart to thank for a lot of that. He was very cognizant of the shoulders of the giants that he stood upon, and understood his place, and once he realized the level of authenticity that he was bringing to a very stilted medium, he took on that burden by just continuing to be himself. My hope is that those numbers just continue to grow. The closer that we get to equity, I think is honoring Stuart’s legacy in the best way possible. Yes, we have this tribute to him. We have this opportunity to see his life in pictures, and really understand his legacy from the ground up, and where it began, but at the end of the day, there’s always gonna be more work to do.

Many athletes want to be rappers, many rappers want to be athletes, Scott managed to smash both worlds together by incorporating some of the language into his reporting. How different is the collaboration between these two worlds because of Scott?

Gaines: What was needed was a glue, something to admonish and recognize both of those realities and how to bring them together. And that was Stuart. That was one of the many things that set him apart. When you look at what Stuart had to endure as a newbie at ESPN 2, and the reason why they ended up hiring him is the same reason why they ended up trying to squash him. The same reason why they were discriminating against him and being prejudiced against him. But he was there as a spirit guide for these two things to come together in such a clear and cohesive and harmonious way. We do have him to thank for so many of the television personalities that we have today as a result of that. He gets a lot of credit for his celebrity. He gets a lot of credit for bringing personality to a very buttoned up and scripted media. But he doesn’t get a lot of credit for being the excellent journalist that he was.

You managed to get a lot of good stories from athletes and his co-workers. What was a story that didn’t make the final cut but still wanted to get out there in the public?

Gaines: There was definitely a really interesting story about a very, very competitive game of pickup basketball between Stuart Scott and Dan Patrick that was pretty incredible, but ended up getting cut for time. There’s another story about a flag football league that they had at ESPN, and they’re playing against some local news stations and guys. Jay Harris tells a story about how Stuart showed up in full pads like this was a real football game. Full pads and goggles and knee high socks and gloves. It was that level of competitiveness that was baked into his soul that showed us what a real fight against cancer actually looks like. He was physically fighting cancer, physically fighting what it was doing to his body, and trying to defeat it through diet and exercise and just a rigorous workout routine. There were a couple of those tidbits that if we had more time, I would love to add in there, but the essence of what those stories are did make the film ultimately.

You really captured his essence in the film. What does he mean to you as a Black filmmaker?

Gaines: For me, he was always a North Star. I started my career in journalism, I should say, went to school for journalism at Northwestern University, and Stuart was also a member of my fraternity Alpha Phi Alpha. There were a couple of the dots that were connected already there for me. So when ESPN called to ask me to do this, it was a thousand times yes. I never got the opportunity to meet him, unfortunately, but I always looked at him as a symbol. It was just an honor to be able to memorialize this incredibly beloved cultural figure in a way that it will live forever, that people can watch again and again, and come back to relive some of the great moments that we all know and love, and learn a whole hell of a lot about the real human being behind it at the end of the day, someone who had trials and triumphs and difficulties and successes just like all of us do. He just had to experience those things on a display as a public figure.

There is an original song by Common in the end-credits. How did that song come about?

Gaines: Common and I have known each other for quite some time. We were working on a TV show several years ago, and he’s just a wonderful human being, an incredible artist, also someone who’s touched so many. I wanted to interview him for the film, because I knew that he had some relationship with Stuart. We talked, and he said, yeah, you know, I’d love to do a song. And I said, you really read my mind. [The song] was just perfectly fitting for what it is that we needed for the end of the film, both solemn and sublime and uplifting at the same time. And that’s a special sauce that he really has among so many musicians.

What do you hope people take away after watching this documentary?

Gaines: I really hope that they’re inspired. I wanted the movie to be so much more than Stuart being defined by the last battle of his life. I wanted it to be defined by his perseverance through his life. Prior to the battle with cancer, he had a series of different challenges that he had to overcome. And so when cancer showed up, I don’t think, uh, he or his family or anybody around him felt that this wasn’t a hurdle that he was going to not overcome, just like he did anything else in his life. But what he showed us all was what real grit and perseverance looks like.

What will be Scott’s legacy in sports journalism?

Gaines: His legacy really should be looked at through that lens as somebody who changed media, somebody who changed broadcasts, news, for the better. Because now we take someone’s having that level of personality on screen, we take that for granted, but that just wasn’t something that existed prior to him.