lot

Mindy Kaling was in her early 30s when the first TV series she created, “The Mindy Project,” made its debut and set in motion her attempt at forging an identity as a prolific multi-hyphenate after “The Office,” where she was a writer and cast member for eight seasons. But if you ask her to reflect on that time of her life, she says, it’s a bit of a blur.

As she explained recently, “I remember it, but not all that distinctly. It was such a grind — waking up at 6 a.m. to be on camera, wrapping late. And I did that for 117 episodes.”

But ask her about her 20s, when she was living in New York City and trying to figure out how she could break into the industry as a comedy writer? “I remember incredibly vividly,” she says. “I’m like, did I feel things more intensely back then? I’m not sure. But that period of time … there was just so many highs and lows. And it felt cinematic to me.”

So she made a TV show about it.

Premiering Tuesday with three episodes, “Not Suitable for Work” follows five ambitious 20-somethings living in Manhattan who are navigating the early stages of their careers while trying to have a semblance of a life and the heightened emotions they experience during this period. Kaling calls it the third chapter in her semi-autobiographical TV trilogy, which includes “Never Have I Ever,” about a first-generation Indian American teenager coping with her father’s death while trying to be popular (or at least not super uncool), and “The Sex Lives of College Girls,” about four young women who dorm together and boldly maneuver their new, uninhibited lives on campus.

In the new Hulu series, viewers are introduced to AJ Pascarelli (Ella Hunt), a hard-working and disciplined young woman who moves to town to start a high-pressure finance job, and her roommate Abhinaya “Abby” Chilukuri (Avantika), a savvy and fashion-obsessed assistant to a celebrity stylist. They live across the hall from Josh Teitelbaum (Jack Martin), an idealistic nepo baby of a media titan — he’ll lean into his privilege when it suits him while also trying to distance himself from it — with ambitions of making it in journalism. His two roommates are Kel Washington (Nicholas Duvernay), an insecure but earnest med student who would rather be acting, and Davis Beau Bradley Barrett III (Will Angus), a high-energy, bumbling financial analyst who works at the same corporate firm as AJ and is an undercover hopeless romantic. As one might expect, there are some messy entanglements within and outside the group.

1

2

1. Abby (Avantika), left, and AJ (Ella Hunt) move in together. 2. Across the hall live Davis (Will Angus), left, Josh (Jack Martin) and Kel (Nicholas Duvernay). (Gwen Capistran / Disney)

“I hope that young people will respond to the show, “ Kaling says. “We did so much research in it because at a certain point it is funny — I’m in my 40s, and I am often like, ‘I wonder if young people are suspicious about why I’m so obsessed with writing shows about young people.’”

So, why is she?

“Because I find it almost impossible to reflect on the current time I’m in,” she says. “It would be too painful to be too introspective about the time that I’m in. I need a real sense of distance to look back on it, especially since having kids. Once you have kids, it triggers these memories of your own childhood.”

Over video call from New York City, Kaling reflected on the series and her early years of trying to make it. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

How did you land on the professions that your characters would be pursuing and what did you want to say about ambition at this stage of life?

I love people who have big wants, and sometimes the audience is like, “Maybe you want the wrong thing” and they [the characters] don’t quite know that yet. I love writing about the underdog. And with their particular professions, they’re all things that I had some interest in researching. I’ve always been fascinated by investment bankers. I went to Dartmouth, so I have a lot of friends who went into that, and I swear I’ve had my friends explain their job so many times to me, and I still didn’t totally understand it. We were lucky; a very famous investment bank very generously offered to let me come for a day and meet with young bankers. I also … write about the children of immigrants. I’m very, very interested in that story, and so we got to research what it’s like being the child of Nigerian immigrants. But every single character has a journey, or there’s an aspect of them that I feel like I really relate to, and that is in almost all my shows.

What was it like observing young people in the investment banking world?

They were wary — because they’re smart — of someone from Hollywood coming in to document what they were doing and asking questions. It helped that a lot of the guys liked “The Office” and a lot of the women liked “The Mindy Project” and “Sex Lives of College Girls” because they’re all kind of young. I think that made them trust me a little bit more. For the AJ and Davis characters, so much of what I researched when I was there fed into their plot line … almost all the characters have a boss they fear and idolize, and the way that first-year bankers feel about their managing directors is not dissimilar to the way I felt about Greg Daniels when I started at “The Office.” And the hours are actually not dissimilar.

There’s a moment early on where Jay Ellis’ character, Bill, who is a managing director at this fictional investment banking firm, is asked about work-life balance. I’m curious how you thought about that at the start of your career versus now.

I didn’t care at all about anything except my job for 16 years. It was my entire personality and purpose. When I was in my 20s, the only thing that mattered was being a good comedy writer and succeeding, and one day maybe being able to create my own shows. There was no balance. I didn’t want balance. I wanted to live and breathe comedy writing for my entire life. I hated the weekends, actually. And who wouldn’t? I was a friendless transplant in Los Angeles and I just wanted to get back to working at “The Office.” Every year I was there, I got more ambitious and I wanted to go off and create my own show and have a bigger part as an actor and everything.

It wasn’t until after I did that on “The Mindy Project” … that I just felt like, “OK, I get this. I want to now try being a mom.” Once I had my daughter, Katherine [at 37], it wasn’t that the balance changed, it was my first real, legitimate interest outside of work — that I cared about more than work.

“When I was in my 20s, the only thing that mattered was being a good comedy writer and succeeding, and one day maybe being able to create my own shows,” Kaling says. “There was no balance. I didn’t want balance.”

(Ebru Yildiz / For The Times)

After college, you moved to Brooklyn with two Dartmouth friends to pursue a career in comedy. You eventually got a full-time job as a production assistant on “Crossing Over with John Edward,” a program where people would receive psychic readings. Tell me about that time in your life.

I remember feeling like I had no access and that I didn’t have any place to put my ambition. It was so far away from anything I wanted to do — scripted comedy and reality television could not be further apart. It was a fascinating time because there were such highs and lows. There was the excitement of new crushes and having fun in a new city with two friends, but there was also the crushing disappointment of feeling like I was never gonna make it. I didn’t even have a path forward to making it, but I was lucky, because I lived with my two best friends. We would go to open mic nights, and we would go to restaurant week and see how the rich people in Manhattan were living. We would take the subway uptown to Central Park and walk along Fifth Avenue and like look at these amazing homes and just dream what it was like to be like a wealthy New Yorker who could buy everything that they read about on DailyCandy — now I’m really dating myself here, back when DailyCandy was a thing. But that’s what it was like, I just I felt a lot of extreme emotions.

How did you approach that job?

My boss was a producer and would approach the families and get their information, and then we would have to do research on them, but it was mostly because they would do a little clip package on the different families. I had to get them to sign releases to be on the show and get photographs of their deceased [loved ones] and them. I actually thought it was pretty interesting work. It just had nothing to do with comedy writing, and that job was not clearly going to lead anywhere toward comedy writing, and I came to New York because of “Saturday Night Live.” When I was working there is when my friend Brenda [Withers] … and I started writing this play “Matt & Ben” [a satirical play that imagines the story of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck before “Good Will Hunting” made them famous] in the time we had off. We started writing it, then I got that job as a PA, then the show went up at the Fringe Festival, and then it was going to go off off Broadway, and when it went off-off-Broadway, and I had a steady income, that’s when I quit my job there. I was only at “Crossing Over” for three or so months.

Greg Daniels attended a performance of “Matt & Ben” and it’s what led to you getting on “The Office” at 24. What was that first meeting like?

Back then, because the internet was so different, when I looked up Greg, besides his credits, you couldn’t find a lot of biographical information about him, or even a photo. I don’t think I even knew what he looked like. When I met him, I don’t think I had seen the British “Office” yet; I wasn’t cool. At that time, I had put so much pressure on this job. I only had two interviews — it was this and there was a show that ended up getting canceled while I was waiting to meet the showrunner. It was a pilot called “Nevermind Nirvana,” about an Indian man who married a white woman, and Ajay Sahgal was the writer. I was like, “Oh my God, if anyone is going to get hired to work on the show, it has to be me.” I was pretty excited about that meeting, but when I was sitting in the waiting room at the production offices to meet with Ajay, they told them they weren’t going to pick up the pilot, so I never even got to meet him, and they just told me I could leave.

I’d only had that interview, and then I met with Greg. This is my memory: it was a high-rise building in Century City, in the offices of “King of the Hill,” so there was a lot of like “King of the Hill” cutouts and stuff there. And he’s just a very thoughtful, quiet guy who doesn’t push conversation … I’m someone who’s pathologically chatty, and so talking to Greg, who is completely fine with there being pauses in conversation, and is just a confident grown-up, it was incredibly intimidating. I was very stressed out in our meeting, but I also was blown away by him.

That first season, you were also the only female writer on staff and the youngest —

B.J.[Novak] is a month younger than me. I want to correct that because he’ll read this and go, “Hey … !”

How did that play into how you felt in the room?

I haven’t really ever had imposter syndrome. And this is my probably my personality defect — I felt that even if I hadn’t seen anyone like me in these roles, that I was just going to be the first one, and I was going to work really hard and prove it to them. The staff was super competitive, but they were smart feminist guys. It was hierarchical and stressful, but it was not because of my fellow writers, except that I wanted to impress them. I felt nervous because I wanted to be contributing, but I don’t know why — I just loved the pilot so much that Greg had made, and I loved these characters, and this world — I was like, I can’t possibly lose my job, I love it too much. Which is probably really stupid, I didn’t ever think there’s a possibility that I could get fired here.

Phyllis (Phyllis Smith), Kelly (Mindy Kaling), Dwight (Rainn Wilson) and Michael (Steve Carell) in a scene from Season 2 of “The Office.”

(Paul Drinkwater / NBCUniversal via Getty Images)

We see how AJ wants to impress the boss and takes on more than she can chew and screws up some data before a big presentation. What was that first big mistake or misstep that you made in those early years that you still think about?

I remember Season 2 — because I just wanted to prove to Greg and to the cast and to the director, the cinematographer, and everyone that I was super invested — we were shooting “The Dundies” [episode]. I was an actor on the show as well, but I wasn’t acting in this scene, but it was my episode [that I wrote], and in between takes, John [Krasinski, who played Jim Halpert] and Jenna [Fischer, who played Pam Beesly] were just on set, and I remember going up to them and being like, “Guys, that take was so great!” And I walked away. Greg came up to me and was like, “You know, we really should let just the director talk to the cast between takes.” Greg, he’s my mentor, but he definitely, over the course of the eight years I lived there, had corrected me many times, as he should have, but that was one of the first times. I remember I was so embarrassed, but I didn’t understand it’s not the role of a story editor to be giving feedback to the cast between takes on a show.

The bosses on the show all have different styles and expectations that may seem demanding or annoying on the surface. How do they reflect where you’re at now?

No one trains you on how to be a good boss. And bad bosses are so prevalent. The entire premise of “The Office” hinges on this funny concept that terrible bosses exist. It wasn’t until I was on “The Mindy Project” that I was the employer for the first time. Every single year of that show, it was a battle getting a new season. One of the challenges of being a good boss is being able to put aside those personal, professional battles you’re fighting … but then also realizing that you’re a mentor to other people, and you have to start thinking about things that you never thought you needed to — overtime, maternity leave, respect in the workplace, the things that make the workplace enjoyable for everyone else who’s there working for you. And it’s not like that comes naturally.

The double blessing of having a good boss, which I did in Greg Daniels and Howard Klein [an executive producer on “The Office”], is that they modeled that for me. Even though I could not be more different than Greg. Even to this day, I’m realizing I have all the unique challenges of being a single mom, being the creator of these shows with crews and casts, but then also being able to be empathetic for all the people that work for me and making sure I make time to listen to them when they want to talk to me about an issue that they’re having; it’s a continual challenge that I’m hoping I’m getting better and better at [managing].

When Bill is asked about work-life balance, he’s also asked if he has inspirational words to impart. It’s very much about overworking and being productive. How do you tackle the question today?

I used to say “you have to write your own part.” And everyone would get annoyed because they’re like, “I’m not a writer.” I’ve had to really think about the question so I could be helpful. We all want a linear path to success. And if my career has taught me anything, it’s that the linear path just was not how I got my job. You know when you go on Google Maps and it shows you all the different paths — the fastest, one path with the toll road and one path that’s going to take seven minutes longer. I’ve only ever taken the one that’s seven minutes longer, or the toll; it’s never been the easy way. The sooner I got used to that, the better.

Before I let you go, in the show, one of the celebrity clients Abby is dealing with is Austin Blanchett, Cate Blanchett’s fictional nephew. Was it always going to be Cate? What other celebs were in the running?

It was Cate Blanchett’s nephew before we had Harry Richardson. When I worked on “Ocean’s Eight,” one of the biggest surprises on it was that Cate Blanchett was incredibly funny and did not take herself seriously at all. I suspect if anyone was going to think it was funny that in this fictional world of the show she had this useless nepo nephew that she had to help get jobs, it would be Cate. I hope she doesn’t sue me. I think she would think it was funny.

Jennifer Cohen has heard her peers this spring lament the precarious state of college football, with the College Football Playoff format in flux, the College Sports Commission under fire and the current model of college athletics hanging by a proverbial thread. As athletic director at USC, Cohen understands the reasons for their doom and gloom.

There’s little clarity about where things stand in college athletics right now, let alone where they’re going. Plus, it has never cost more to run an athletic department — or a football program, with the price tag of rosters exceeding $40 million this season — in part because of name, image and likeness rights.

“There’s no doubt that this last year’s been frustrating, and that’s because we tried to fly a plane and build a plane at the same time,” Cohen told The Times last week. “So it’s certainly not going swimmingly, right?”

Before discussing all that’s wrong with the current college sports landscape, Cohen wants to remind everyone that it hasn’t all been bad.

“It’s important to talk about what are the positives that came from what’s happened,” Cohen said.” And from my perspective, student athletes have benefited now more than ever, you know?”

At USC, Cohen has managed to steer the athletic department through the chaos. As costs have risen exponentially with the advent of revenue sharing, Cohen says department revenue at USC is up almost 60% over a three-year span, sponsorship values have doubled and USC donors have poured money into the Trojan Athletic Fund, which is up 707% since she started.

Jennifer Cohen, left, and university president Carol Folt, right, flash the “V for Victory” hand sign during a news conference in 2023 introducing Cohen as USC’s new athletic director.

(Ringo Chiu / For The Times)

And later this summer, USC will open a $200-million football facility — a rarity in an age when such spending has more often taken a backseat.

None of that is to say USC is immune to the coming financial crunch in college sports.

“We also have to manage expenses, and we’re trying to do that and still support what we think is part of our DNA, which is [keeping all] 23 programs,” Cohen said. “As you look at the financial benefits that football brings to this place, the more you’re gonna take those revenues from football and put it back into football and to football student athletes versus other programs, you’re gonna feel the pinch. And so we’ve tried to mitigate that with new strategies on revenue generation.”

But what about when football rosters costs balloon to $50 million … or $60 million? What about $100 million?

“Hopefully not,” Cohen said. “We’ve gotta match roster spends with revenues and, and, and, and how we run a business.”

“I don’t think there’s one simple answer to this, and I do think that we are at a point where we’ve got to figure out as an industry, how do we do this in a smart way and not just let our competitiveness get the best of us? But that’s hard when football winning is the only way that you pay your bills.”

The Times sat down with Cohen last week to discuss the state of affairs in college football and USC’s athletic department. The following conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

With college football in such an uncertain place, do you feel like there needs to be some form of outside intervention? Or some major governance change that would help solve these problems?

“I think at some point in time we’re gonna have to find something. I mean, obviously we’re a year in. So I think first we all need to look in the mirror — myself included, as a leader — and say, ‘What did we do in this new system that worked? And what have we done in this new system that doesn’t work? And the question becomes, ‘Can you get everybody across the Power Four [conferences] to do that exercise and be honest enough to find some sort of solutions together? Or do you need to start looking at other solutions? I, for one, fully believe in federal support. I understand why it’s needed. I’m somebody that spent a lot of time on that earlier in my career, and, you know, the patchwork situation of laws is not fair from a competitive standpoint. It’s also very confusing to student athletes and to their families and to our coaches. But I am absolutely not holding my breath for that.

Eric Musselman and athletic director Jennifer Cohen hold a jersey with Musselman’s name during his introductory news conference as the Trojans’ basketball coach in 2024.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

“The most important place where I’m spending my energy is figuring out how we are going to win in whatever environment that we’re dealt. Because I don’t have as much control in my current role to solve for all of those national issues. I am 24/7 thinking about how USC is going to compete in whatever environment we’re in. And I feel really confident that we will. But as somebody that loves college sports, I also think that we are gonna have to find a different alternative than how we’re operating right now to have a sustainable and durable model.”

USC seems to be in a really strong place with NIL, stronger certainly than when you were hired. How would you say that USC has gotten to that point?

“ When we got here, my mantra was if you’re not ahead, you’re gonna get behind. And so there were a lot of areas that we focused on to just try to improve and get ahead, and NIL was one of them. There’s a natural ability here to be really competitive in NIL — especially in the third-party space with brands. You know, we were just looking at some data the other day just in this new CSC-NIL Go model. Our brand deals are valued 2 1/2 times more than the national average, and I think that really speaks to both USC, the city of L.A., and obviously the quality of the student athletes that we have. And I think it’s just been a strategy of embracing the new era, recognizing that it’s really cool to be able to have student athletes benefit in that new era, and it’s important, and that you have to be competitive in that space.

“And so I think it was just a matter of having intentionality in a plan and getting all of our stakeholders aligned around that plan, and it was an urgent matter to keep trying to get ahead in that space. Because if we weren’t, other people were. That’s how we’ve been tackling it, and so we’re really proud of how robust the program is now. But we’re gonna have to keep getting better at it. We’re gonna have to keep evolving.”

The Big Ten has come out in favor of expanding the College Football Playoff to 24 teams. What are your thoughts on that?

“We’re unified as a league around 24, there’s no doubt about that. And obviously that’s gaining traction in some of the other conferences as well. And so where we’re unified, USC’s gonna support that. I think that there’s merits in the 24 model. I also think there’s plenty of fair questions around that. It has to make sense for everybody. So that’s kind of where we stand on it.

USC athletic direct Jennifer Cohen wears a headset with microphone as she’s interviewed before a football game in 2023.

(Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)

“I think personally speaking, I would have absolutely no problem staying at 12. I think we’ve experienced a lot of change in college sports and in college football. I think we need to understand how that change is impacting not just us, but our fans and others. And so if we end up at 12, I’m confident that we’re gonna find our way in that 12 every single year. And again, uh, that’s where my focus is. I mean, I am nonstop thinking about how USC athletics can compete in whatever model that we’re in, and I feel really good about the plans that we are developing and will continue to develop because we’re gonna have to keep changing to, to make sure that we’re competitive.

Being that it’s now Year 5, is it fair to say that the expectation is that Lincoln [Riley] needs to take USC to the Playoff this year?

“The expectation has always been the same. That’s the thing, that’s the reason why I came here, is that the standard is high. We do expect to make the playoff. We do expect to have a championship run. We do expect to be competing for championships every single year. I think that’s what’s awesome about USC, is that that’s what we all expect of it. And I know that I’m not the only one that expects that. I know our fans expect that. I know that he expects that. And so I really like this team. I really like the kids that we brought in. I love the returners. I love the leadership of this team.

“We’ve got some really outstanding older young men in this program that get it, that have been through a lot and really care about this place and this program. The young guys are awesome. They’re really challenging the older guys. So I feel really good about the talent level of this team, and I feel really good about what Lincoln’s done. I think with this staff, I think we have a highly competitive staff. I think we have a really experienced staff. And then you can’t dismiss what Chad’s accomplished. You know? I think that that’s been the benefit of bringing in not just Chad, but an entire front office staff, taking the pressure off of Lincoln, taking the pressure off of the other coaches so that they can be at their best. I mean, he’s been really energized about that and really focused on taking the strengths that he has. So yeah, the expectation, I mean, we haven’t been shy about that. We expect to win, and I, I feel confident that we’re going to.”

This article contains spoilers for the series finale of “Hacks.”

After five seasons and (thus far) 12 Emmys, “Hacks” has come to an end. The story of how Deborah Vance (Jean Smart), a 70-something comedian of the Joan Rivers type, and Ava Daniels (Hannah Einbinder), a prickly 20-something comedy writer, came together to resurrect both their careers was a roller coaster ride of intergenerational judgment, wins, setbacks, ruthless behavior, personal growth, power reclamation and much general hilarity.

Deborah sees Ava as entitled and self-righteous, Ava sees Deborah as washed-up and boring. Eventually, of course, they realize they are kindred spirits who do their best work together.

In Season 5, Deborah attempts yet another comeback. Having walked off her late-night show rather than fire Ava in Season 4, she is determined to rewrite her premature obituary by playing Madison Square Garden. When that too is snatched away, she pivots (with much difficulty and hilarity, including a show-stopping monologue by Laurie Metcalf’s tour manager Weed) to Central Park, where she is finally allowed a moment of glory, basking in the adulation of applauding thousands.

But that is not the end of “Hacks.” In the final episode, Deborah reveals she has cancer and rather than undergo treatment, she is choosing to “go out on top” with the aid of a Zurich clinic. She asks Ava to accompany her, after they take a girls trip to Paris. After an emotional meltdown, Ava agrees, hoping to persuade Deborah to change her mind. She does, but only after Deborah realizes that she cannot bear to walk away from the jokes she could write about dying. And so the show ends, with the two women walking arm in arm, first in Paris and then in Las Vegas, working on Deborah Vance’s final show.

Here, Times TV and culture critics Robert Lloyd and Mary McNamara discuss the ending, and legacy, of “Hacks.”

Deborah, left, decides she doesn’t want to get treatment for cancer despite Ava’s protests. Deborah changes her mind when she realizes she could write jokes about dying.

(HBO Max)

Mary McNamara: Hey there, Robert; are you as devastated as I am that we have no more “Hacks” to look forward to? The only solace I can find is the news that creators Lucia Aniello, Paul W. Downs and Jen Statsky are planning to release a DVD box set of the series. And the possibility that there could be a movie sequel — I for one want to see Deborah Vance’s death tour, especially since you know she’ll beat the odds and survive.

Seriously, though, sad as I am to contemplate life without “Hacks,” I am equally thrilled that the show so thoroughly stuck its landing. Finales are always a crap shoot and I appreciated how this season managed to show growth and cosmic justice while never tipping into treacle. I love that everyone ended on a win — including Marty! (Christopher McDonald) — and I didn’t even mind that suddenly Deborah had cancer (what?), was choosing assisted suicide (double what?) or that we were whisked to Paris (sure, I guess, why not?) because it made just enough narrative sense to set up Deborah’s decision to live because she just couldn’t leave good material on the table. “I may not have 30 years, but I do have one more hour,” may be the best line from a TV finale ever.

It is too easy to think of people like Deborah as clawing back their careers for fame, validation or money rather than a deep and essential love of their art. Having Deborah decide to prolong her life with chemo because she could not resist mining this final seam of comedic gold was a coup de grace.

What did you think?

Robert Lloyd: Hail, Mary. Reviewing the first-season finale, I wrote that the series was at heart a romantic comedy. And though many timely points were made along the way about artificial intelligence, the fate of late-night television and the awfulness of rich jerks who control media companies — Deborah’s Madison Square Garden show was undermined by the network head she named on national television in her resignation speech — the show asserted itself as a love story once again in the end. Where earlier seasons had depended on creating friction between Deborah and Ava, this one was mostly of concord, their only real clash being Deborah’s decision, introduced late in the season, to end her life (in a clean, posh way); her climactic change of heart spared us a medical tearjerker, but, believe me, I shed plenty of tears along the way. Unlike most seasons of “Hacks,” the fifth and final was orchestrated very much as a feel-good experience — “Ted Lasso” has nothing on it. A fairy tale, almost, as you point out, full of fairy-tale endings and plot points that were as good as magic. It could be contrived and improbable and old-fashioned in its triumphs snatched from the jaws of defeat, and I completely loved it.

Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) didn’t get the Madison Square Garden show she imagined, but she did get one at Central Park.

(HBO Max)

McNamara: The series had a lot to say about a lot of things (including vengeful power brokers/network executives) that feel particularly pointed now. But I deeply appreciated that while underlining the real obstacles Deborah and Ava faced, the writers showcased and explored how the bad choices each women had made, and defended, also contributed to their situations. Obviously having the great Jean Smart in the driver’s seat helped a lot — she revealed the woman beneath the diva even in Deborah’s most outrageous actions. The writers did not shy away from calling attention to the blatant sexism female comedians faced (and continue to face) or how the “woke” women of Ava’s generation are often able to see that kind of injustice more clearly.

It was, as you say, more rom-com than morality play, and rom-coms are often based on discovering that the differences that initially divide are too often based on, well, to put it in its original form, pride and prejudice. So while there was some hilarious and spot-on commentary about intergenerational miscommunication, there was also a clear message of how important it is for people with vastly different experiences to listen to, and learn from each other, which also feels incredibly important at this moment in time, especially given the show’s essential, and deeply human, respect for creative work. What motivated Deborah and Ava, and virtually every character in “Hacks” — agent Jimmy (Downs), his assistant Kayla (Megan Stalter) and later Randi (Robby Hoffman); Deborah’s staff, including Marcus (Carl Clemons Hopkins), Damien (Mark Indelicato) and Josefina (Rose Abdoo) — was a belief in the importance, and difficulty, of the creative process. It’s something that is rarely, if ever, the work of a single individual — as Deborah finally acknowledges at the opening of the Diva casino. Or as Laurie Metcalf’s Weed makes clear in her hilarious monologue before the Central Park gig.

1

2

1. Creativity isn’t the work of a single individual: Damien (Mark Indelicato), Marcus (Carl Clemons-Hopkins) and Deborah (Jean Smart) at work on the casino. (HBO Max) 2. Deborah’s crew at her Central Park show. (HBO Max)

Lloyd: In a way Deborah’s speech summed up what we’d already been seeing through an especially generous season that served as “Hacks’” tribute to itself and its people. It was a party to which most every significant and many minor characters were invited, including Metcalf and McDonald; Luenell as comedian Miss Loretta; Poppy Liu as Deborah’s personal blackjack dealer, Kiki; Jane Adams as Ava’s mother, Nina; J. Smith-Cameron as Deborah’s estranged sister, Kathy; and Kaitlin Olson as Deborah’s daughter, DJ, who finally got her mom to partner with her on “The Amazing Race” and was allowed to sell her detachable earrings on QVC.

Gifts were distributed widely, including a previously unseen interview with Deborah’s late husband and co-star, Frank (Peter Strauss), giving her credit for their success — credit he had previously accepted for himself — and thus removing a giant thorn that drove the early plot. These kind-hearted acts of closure were performed both for the benefit of these very real, made-up people, and for We the Viewers, who have made them our family. Declarations, or at least demonstrations of love, were abundant, not merely between Deborah and Ava, with the characters acting as our proxies, feeling what we want them to feel, and what we feel for them ourselves. (There are moments this year when Einbinder — whose brilliance Smart could seem to outshine, but who was never less than an equal partner — absolutely killed me, just in the tender way she gazed upon Deborah.) That’s why it’s so hard to let go of a show like this, even when we know it’s time to say goodbye. You can only stretch an arc so far before it breaks.

McNamara: You’re right, of course. But I still want to see the “Hacks” movie.

Few players are driven to club soccer practice by a national team player. But then few players have two sisters who play for the U.S. women’s team.

Also Zoe Thompson is just 14, so you can’t expect her to drive herself.

But here’s the thing that truly sets Zoe Thompson apart. Although eldest sister Alyssa, 21, has already played in a World Cup and middle sister Gisele made 38 NWSL appearances and played four times for the national team before her 20th birthday, Zoe may actually be the best of the three.

“She’s better technically,” said her father Mario Thompson, who coached all three.

“I think she’s the combination between Alyssa and Gisele,” said Carlos Marroquin, owner of the pre-professional women’s team that gave Alyssa and Gisele their start.

So maybe there should be a line of coaches, teammates and family members waiting to drive her to practice or to her debut with Marroquin’s team, the Santa Clarita Blue Heat, on Saturday evening at The Master’s University.

The Santa Clarita Blue Heat coach Leonardo Neveleff, center, talks to his team before a practice at Valencia High. Zoe Thompson makes her debut with the team Saturday.

The team, which competes in USL W league, has long been a summer proving ground for elite college players and aspiring pros with alumni that includes Venezuela’s Deyna Castellanos, once a finalist for FIFA’s world player of the year award; World Cup veterans Savannah DeMelo and Ashley Sanchez; former Chelsea and Atlético Madrid star Ana Borges of Portugal; and Natalia Kuikka, a five-time Finnish player of the year.

This year’s roster includes more than two dozen Division I college players, meaning Zoe Thompson will be playing with and against women much older than her.

Did we mention she’s still in middle school?

“She’s always having to get out of her comfort zone, no matter what,” said Mario Thompson, whose job as Zoe’s father is to both nurture and protect his daughter’s talent.

Zoe has followed a different path than her sisters. Alyssa and Gisele were born less than 13 months apart and grew up playing together, practicing together and pushing each other. Zoe, born seven years later, grew up watching them, imitating them and wanting to be them.

But she had to do the work alone.

“It’s a unique dynamic where Alyssa and Gisele had each other,” their father said. “It wasn’t just Alyssa by herself. She always had a partner.”

Zoe, however, observed a lot by watching.

“I feel like their mistakes helped me,” she said. “But at the same time, there are some mistakes that I’ve made that they haven’t. I’m learning differently, but I’m more learning from them.”

Zoe Thompson hugs her father Mario Thompson after practice at Valencia High.

Still, this is uncharted territory. No family has ever had a trio of siblings play for the women’s national team, and the pressure of having to match the success her sisters have had will be inescapable, if unfair, for Zoe.

It’s a level of pressure that has the potential to be crushing.

“She kind of has this expectation that’s put upon her already that ‘oh, she’s going to be like her sister,’” Gisele said. “But it’s her own life.”

And Mario Thompson, an elementary school principal who has been intimately involved in all his daughters’ careers, is having to negotiate all this on the fly.

“Everyone sees the glam and the glitz of Alyssa and Giselle, but people don’t really understand it’s a lot of pressure,” he said of the sisters, who will both be heading to Brazil with the national team next week. “They see all the great stuff, but it’s also their job.”

Mario Thompson faced some of the same issues with Alyssa, the second-youngest U.S. woman to play in a World Cup, so he limited her media interviews and tried to let her be a teenager — albeit it an exceptionally talented one. Zoe faces the additional burden of having do all that while following in her sisters’ footsteps.

“I’m very mindful and aware of that,” he said. “She’s already in the spotlight without having to be in the spotlight. It’s that pressure. I want her to love the sport, love this journey. That’s kind of how I raised all three of them.”

Zoe Thompson during a practice session in preparation for her debut with the Santa Clarita Blue Heat soccer team.

For her part Zoe, mature well beyond her tender age, dismisses the hype with a shrug.

“There are going to be comparisons,” she said. “But we’re such different people that I think it’s unfair. At the same time, they can have those comparisons, they can have those opinions, but I’m not them. So it’s not going to be any different, how I play.”

Plus, having two accomplished sisters has its advantages. In the spring Zoe trained with the youth teams at Chelsea, where Alyssa now plays, and this summer she says she’ll train with Angel City, Gisele’s team. But the drawback of being a (much) younger sister is Alyssa and Gisele had each other to lean on growing up. Zoe has had to go it alone and that, she said, has made her stronger.

“Mentally, it is harder. But seeing my sisters and where they are, it’s kind of a motivation for me,” said Zoe, who has already been called in three times by the U-14 national team. “They were kind of at the same place I am. And it’s just very motivating to see them where they are. That’s just kind of where I want to be.”

If there’s been one constant in the girls’ soccer careers it’s been their dad, who has been intimately involved in with all three, drilling them in the backyard of their Studio City home or walking them down the street to a park, where they shared the lumpy grass with softball players and unleashed dogs.

They were often, but not always, willing participants since the family didn’t have a TV when the girls were growing up.

Zoe Thompson controls the ball during a training session in preparation for her debut with the Santa Clarita Blue Heat soccer team.

And while the hours and hours of practice certainly honed the sisters’ skills, their parents can’t explain where the girls got their immense physical gifts. Mario played football and basketball and ran track at Occidental College with modest success while his wife, Karen, an occupational therapist, played basketball and ran cross-country in high school, hardly the pedigree that could be expected to produce three world-class soccer players.

Perhaps part of the answer lies in their unique DNA, a mix of Mario’s Black and Filipino background and Karen’s Italian and Peruvian roots.

“It was never the plan, ‘Hey, let’s have some soccer players’,” Mario said.

But once the sisters decided that was their plan, the parents had to adjust. The girls had rare talent, Mario Thompson quickly realized, and it had to be developed. So Alyssa and Gisele began playing with an elite boys’ team while they were still in high school and passed up scholarships to Stanford to sign lucrative contracts with Angel City while their were teenagers.

Zoe has chosen another way, playing with Tudela FC, an all-girls team that practices near her home, and with the Blue Heat, where she’ll be facing stronger, more mature players for the first time. Mario Thompson hopes those aren’t the only differences, although he said the road his youngest daughter takes will ultimately be up to her.

“My hope is she goes through college and just goes a different pathway, different journey,” Mario Thompson said. “It’s a roller-coaster ride and so for [Zoe], I think she sees that roller-coaster ride and I don’t know if it’s a rush to let me get to that. She wants to eventually be a pro, but I don’t think it’s ‘I need to get there as soon as possible.’”

“It’s Zoe, what do you want?” he added. “It’s not like you have to be here, you have to do this. It’s none of that. It’s about, ‘Hey, Zoe, this is your journey.’ We want you to enjoy it, have fun with it, be happy with it.”

She appears to be accomplishing all three of those goals. She’s also both confident and comfortable in her abilities and believes she’s already ahead of both her sisters despite the weight of expectation.

Zoe Thompson with head coach Leonardo Neveleff at the conclusion of a training session in preparation for her debut with the Santa Clarita Blue Heat soccer team. Thompson, 14, is the younger sister of U.S. women’s soccer players Gisele and Alyssa Thompson.

But she’s also well aware of the pitfalls ahead, having seen Alyssa and Gisele occasionally stumble into them.

“Yeah, it is a lot of pressure but I feel like we just had different paths,” she said. “They didn’t really know they were going to do soccer. They didn’t know that was their sport. But I feel like that path was set for me.

“It was just like I grew faster. I kind of took the understanding of what they were doing, and then I did it a little faster.”

There are other differences as well. Gisele is a defender and Alyssa a forward, but Zoe plays in the midfield. And while it was sometimes difficult to get anything more than a giggle from Alyssa in an interview even after she turned pro, Zoe already gives complete, thoughtful answers to most questions.

Zoe’s game is also different; while Alyssa and Gisele are both exceptionally fast, Zoe relies more on her skill.

“Zoe’s more technical than her sisters at this stage,” her father said. “She’s better on the ball, she has a better understanding of the game. A lot of their game was because of speed. Hers is more thinking, hers is more of the ball on her feet.

“Technically, she’s better and understands the game at this age.”

Gisele, the sister who chauffeurs Zoe to practice in Santa Clarita, agrees. But, she adds, Zoe’s greatest strength may actually be her desire.

“She just has so many great qualities that me and Alyssa don’t have,” she said. “At her age, she wants it way more than we did. She loves soccer with a passion. Me and Alyssa didn’t love it as much as she does.”

And if that passion translates to performance, Zoe will someday join her sisters on the national team. By then she may even be in the driver’s seat.

Santa Clarita Blue Heat team owner Carlos Marroquin talks to Zoe Thompson after a training session at Valencia High.

US Vice President JD Vance says Washington and Tehran have made “a lot of progress” towards a ceasefire extension agreement, including talks on reopening the Strait of Hormuz. However, he says disagreements remain over Tehran’s enriched uranium stockpile.

Cary Elwes may not have been born in Los Angeles, but it’s probably fair to consider the native Brit an honorary Angeleno. The “Princess Bride” star was born in and spent his formative years kicking around London; he moved to L.A. in 1990, on his brother’s recommendation. He met his wife, photographer Lisa Marie Kurbikoff, at a cookoff in Malibu about a year later and the two married in 2000. A daughter, Dominique, arrived in 2007.

In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.

Elwes has spent his years in California not just establishing his family life, but also further enmeshing himself in Hollywood. He’s appeared in everything from “Saw” to “Ella Enchanted,” and played a corrupt government agent in a couple of “Mission Impossible” movies. His latest role is as a former cop turned private detective in Peacock’s new crime thriller, “M.I.A.,” streaming now.

“I’ve been out here for quite a bit now and while [2025’s] fires were pretty devastating — changing a lot of the landscape and people’s lives in ways that none of us could have imagined — I’m hopeful,” Elwes says. “I feel like we’re going to build back stronger and better. Things can seem dark sometimes, but I still have a spark of hope in my heart.”

Here’s how Elwes would spend his perfect, hopeful Sunday in Los Angeles.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

10 a.m.: Coffee and a chat

We wake up around 10 a.m., which is kind of late for me. Then we’ll have our coffee. I tend to lean toward Gelson’s beans, which I find have a particular flavor I tend to like. I do like my coffee. It’s probably the only addiction I really have.

Anyway, after I finish up my coffee, I’ll typically ask my wife and daughter what they’d like to do for the day. My daughter is 19, and she’s terrific. I always tell my wife she’s the best production we’ll ever do together.

Noon: Leisurely lunch

My wife is very fond of this Italian restaurant in Woodland Hills called Casaléna. It’s right off Ventura Boulevard and it’s terrific. Even their salads are extraordinary. It’s fairly new, too, but it’s always booked out solid so you really have to make a reservation in advance. Luckily, my wife and daughter are organized, so if they want to go there, they’ll have planned ahead.

2 p.m.: Head to the movies

We like to go see movies at the Imax at Universal CityWalk. The quality of that theater is very, very good and seeing films on the biggest screen possible is important to us.

My wife and I went on a date to see “Michael” in Imax, which was sold out and it was phenomenal. Antoine Fuqua did a great job and our friend Colman [Domingo] was honestly transformative as Joe Jackson. And Jaafar Jackson, who’s Michael’s nephew, is remarkable. It’s an extraordinary film, but sold out with people cheering and dancing? That made it a phenomenon. People were interacting with the movie as it played and it was remarkable.

If we’re not interested in whatever’s playing at the time, we might go for a hike in Tapia Park. I grew up watching “MASH” as a kid and when I realized they filmed there, I thought “How blessed am I to be living just a few miles from where such an iconic series was made?”

It’s a really beautiful park too. If you take a long hike, you’ll see waterfalls and lots of wildlife. On a nice afternoon, taking the dog out there for a walk? You can’t beat it.

There’s so much rich history here. I remember going on the Universal Studio Tour for the first time when I visited L.A. as a kid. They had a thing where they’d pick a couple of tour guests and the guide would put you on camera in front of a blue screen and you’d reenact a scene from a movie. The tour also took you by the “Jaws” shark coming out of the water and through an old western town, and I found out years later that a director friend of mine had been making westerns there when I was a kid and I didn’t even know it.

That tour was fantastic. With parting the sea for “The Ten Commandments” and then the boulders coming down the hill during the rockslide? Absolutely magnificent.

5 p.m.: Pick a Getty, any Getty

Depending on what time our movie ends or if we just end up going for a walk instead, we might go over to the Getty Center. We love it there. Usually we’ll go in the afternoon — maybe we’ll have a late lunch up there — and sometimes we’ll go to the Getty Villa instead, which luckily survived the Palisades fire.

We just love being around art. We’ll walk through the entire collection, plus whatever exhibit they have on at the time. We’ll go to LACMA sometimes, too, or even the Academy Museum to see whatever new exhibits they have.

Culturally, we really try to keep busy. Sometimes we’ll want to sit at home and play Spite and Malice or watch a show on TV, but mostly I try to go out and encourage my family to do the same, especially because we live in such a wonderfully diverse, cultural city.

7 p.m.: Taco time

I always leave meal decisions up to the girls, and sometimes they like to go out and get tacos. We like the fish tacos at Escuela. It’s pretty close to Quentin Tarantino’s movie theater, the New Beverly Cinema, which we like to go to as well. I took my daughter to see “Jaws” there, in fact, which she loved.

9 p.m.: More movies

I’m trying to educate my daughter in the films and TV shows that I watched growing up. She’s taking a film history class in school. She wants to be an actor as well, so I want her to have an understanding of the history of film and history of performance, so I show her the great performances that inspired me as a kid and encourage her in that way.

When I grew up in England, we literally had two channels, both in black and white. Young people can’t quite wrap their heads around that now, but it really did make you pay attention because you had to be sitting in front of the television to catch a show or movie you wanted to watch.

I remember that the BBC, particularly on weekends, would have matinee screenings of movies. We actually had pretty good quality TV in England growing up, but they’d also heavily focus on British films from the ‘40s all the way through to the ‘60s so I got my education from that particular style of films, like the postwar films, ‘50s films, and the Ealing comedies. David Lean and Laurence Olivier, Ralph Richardson … a lot of the films they were in or directed really helped shape who I am today.

Alec Guinness and Peter Sellers had a very strong influence on me as a kid, too, so I really want to try to share with my daughter why these films meant so much to me.

10:30 p.m.: Books in bed

I’m not really a late-night person anymore. I used to be when I was a kid, but now, unless we’re out on a date, my wife and I are homebodies.

The idea grew as organically as the purple cauliflower at Erewhon. One day, I walked from my place in Los Feliz to the beach. I stopped at two Erewhon locations on the way to refuel. I made a reel about my journey and posted it to Instagram. My friend Fish saw it and said, “You should walk to all the Erewhons.”

I thought: I don’t have time to do that. I’m a very serious person who needs to write her novel.

But later I found myself mapping out an 89-mile hike in my Notes App, starting in Pasadena and ending in Calabasas, stopping at all 10 Erewhon locations on the way. (My route did not include the Palisades, which is closed because of the fires; nor did it include LACMA or the new Glendale locale.)

“I need to write my novel” is a thought I have a lot. I usually heed this thought and sit at the desk like a soldier, imagining the wonderful day when I’ll sell said novel — for an amount that would probably be comparable to a fraction of an Erewhon employee’s yearly salary.

Erewhon Trail map illustration by Swan Huntley.

(Erewhon Trail map illustration by Swan Huntley. )

I really wasn’t in the mood to write the novel, though. When I imagined myself pecking away at the keyboard, I felt bad. When I imagined myself walking around L.A. in my Home Depot gardening hat, I felt good. So, I put on my hat, got into an Uber headed for Pasadena, and texted my sister, “Carpe diem, bitch.” Or at least that was my intention. What I actually sent was, “Carpet diem hitch.”

Over the summer, I hiked a little bit of the Pacific Crest Trail. A few years ago, I biked the Camino in Spain. I’ve walked from Los Feliz to the beach a handful of times. I’ve traversed the length of Manhattan thrice. Before that, when I was a teenager, I used to trek from La Jolla to Del Mar while drinking beer (I carried a cooler; yes, I’m sober now) and listening to Sarah McLachlan on my Discman. I’ve always been drawn to activities that many people find tedious. Like walking forever. Or writing a novel.

Starting in the fourth century, pilgrimages were served up by the church as a way for Christians to pay penance for their sins. They were hard and dangerous and a lot of people died. Fast-forward to now: Such treks have taken on an “Eat, Pray, Love” aura. Or a “Wild “ aura. They live in the realm of self-help and of sport. They’re a way to create friction in an increasingly frictionless world. By walking from Mexico to Canada, or from Erewhon to Erewhon, I wonder whether we’re trying to get back to the part of ourselves that wants to try harder.

Or we just want to become more valuable dinner party guests.

What do you do?

I do really long walks.

I ordered a Goddess Smoothie in Pasadena, and then I repeated this tradition at every store thereafter. The smoothie costs $19, tastes like heaven, and it’s green, which my brain reads as “good for me.”

It took me a little over three hours to walk 11 miles to Silver Lake. I got a Vegan Avocado Sandwich for lunch, took an Uber home and posted a reel on Instagram about my first day on the trail. A lot of people liked it. Some of them called me a genius.

In the last 10 years, I’ve published four novels and two illustrated books for adults. I was naïve and just totally blindly happy about the publishing process in the beginning. People wanted to buy my work? Other people wanted to read it? Cool.

The first book, “We Could Be Beautiful,” did well because the publisher put real money into the marketing of it. Then that stopped happening. At a certain point, I realized that expecting too much was unwise. It was up to me to market my books myself. Which meant: social media.

They say you have to see a book cover six times before you buy the book — or consider buying it. There are a lot of book covers on Instagram. Actually, there’s a lot of everything on Instagram, and out of all the everything, is a book cover that exciting?

No.

My second reel, which depicted my journey from Silver Lake to Studio City, went a little bit viral. To date, almost 10,000 people have shared it with their friends. Why? I think the answer has something to do with a desire for levity.

If the atmosphere of the world could be depicted by an Erewhon beverage, it wouldn’t be a vibrant, cheerful one, like the bright magenta Pitaya Smoothie. It would be the dark and brooding Germ Warfare Shot. I find it perplexing that people talk about the apocalypse as if it’s happening later. It’s happening now. If we were really thinking about how climate change is affecting us, we’d be out in the streets screaming. All the time. But we’re not doing that. We’re carrying on with our usual lives. Apparently, for me, that includes walking to Erewhons.

Any long-distance trek is as much an internal journey as it is external. As I continued the trail, I started to think that maybe my endeavor was a reaction to my feeling of total powerlessness. I can’t save the polar bears. I can’t force the president to go to therapy. But I can add some levity to the brooding atmosphere.

Recently, someone commented on one of the reels, “Transplants make LA locals look bad.” This person, and many others, hear the name Erewhon and assume I’m poking fun at it. Erewhon has become a joke about L.A. — a joke that was amplified after Hailey Bieber invented her smoothie in 2022 that Erewhon dubs the “Strawberry Glaze Skin Smoothie.” I’ve never had it, but I can tell you that it looks like a sky full of strawberry clouds. According to an Erewhon employee I spoke to, this smoothie was a turning point. It aligned the brand with wealth and power. Now, Erewhon evokes the image of smooth-skinned, health-conscious Angelenos with money to burn.

The Erewhon Trail, then, inevitably becomes a conversation about privilege, my own included. Instagram hid my two favorite comments, because it was worried they’d be too rude to show, but I think they’re the funniest ones.

This is what white people do on Prozac.

This is what happens when a liberal arts teacher gets fired.

To both of these comments, I say: Yes.

I’m not on Prozac yet, but maybe after I get fired, I will be.

In order to get fired, though, I’d have to get an actual job, which might never happen.

The most intense leg of the trail was from Santa Monica to Calabasas. My friend Fish joined me. Google said it would take 27 miles. After marching through the mountains, I decided to use my own intelligence to make the route shorter. This cut out four miles, bringing the total to 23. For long stretches, Fish and I walked in the bike lane, or in the bramble by the side of the road. That’s the penalty for straying from Google. Your sidewalks disappear and your chances of getting hit by a car go way up.

My legs were noodles by the time we got to Calabasas. I crawled across the parking lot to show my viewers how weak they’d become. The employee at the door smiled at me and handed me a basket, and I thought about the pain of my legs, which no one could see, and about all the secret battles people are fighting all the time, and I wished that we cared about each other as much as Erewhon cares about us. Multiple employees were perfecting the already-perfect plateaus of bell peppers and apples in the produce section. Their thoughtfulness was the opposite of the vibe I encounter in most public restrooms, which is that the strangers who were there before me didn’t have many thoughts about my experience. As lame as the fact that an Erewhon smoothie costs $19 is that so many of us need to be paid to be nice to each other.

When I tell people about my love for Erewhon, they either say, “Duh, I know,” or something along the lines of, “That place is ridiculous, right?” This is almost always followed by the mention of a food item and some amount of money. Like, “Doesn’t a carrot cost $12,000?”

Actually, I tell them, no. Although sometimes, yes. There is a Japanese strawberry that’s famously expensive ($20), but that’s avoidable. I then explain that contrary to popular thought, there is a way to shop at Erewhon on a budget. A jar of soup, for example, costs $15.50. If you return the bottle, you get $3 back. In my opinion, the soup can be two meals, so that’s $6.25 per meal. A lot of the produce is either the same price or only a little bit more expensive than at other health food stores, and it’s in consistently better shape. The most important piece of making Erewhon more affordable, though, is becoming a member. You get 10% off, a free drink of the month and discounts on a bunch of items.

You might be wondering: How many Erewhon memberships has she personally sold?

She’s lost count.

The other reason to go to Erewhon is the environment. It’s visually appealing and the employee-to-customer ratio is notable, and the result is that you feel like you’re at a resort. And frankly, these simple things — a nice environment, high quality food — should be available to everyone.

Back to the question of whether or not Erewhon is ridiculous — yes, of course it is. If you sit at any of the locations and listen to the conversations around you, you’ll probably feel like you’re an extra in a satirical movie. At Studio City, I overheard two moms in white pants and cashmere sweaters talking about how, based on their Instagram recon, they figured out that so-and-so was sitting next to so-and-so at a benefit dinner. Another snippet I overheard in Studio City: “You gotta make music from the heart, man, and the label will feel it.”

It didn’t occur to me to ask for free merch until after I’d finished the trail. Armando at the Santa Monica location was the lucky recipient of my request. I explained my uniquely heroic feat to him, and then wondered aloud if perhaps I could get a sweatshirt, or at least a hat.

Sadly, Armando was unauthorized to give me merch, but he did offer me a gift card in a tiny envelope. I was very grateful. I assumed the card was worth $50 at least.

After we parted ways, I opened the envelope.

Ten dollars.

Enough to put a down payment on a smoothie.

My dreams now are so different from when I was younger. Back in grad school, I imagined that maybe I’d write a bestselling novel, and maybe it would be adapted for the screen, and maybe my tombstone would read: She contributed very serious literature to civilization.

What I never accounted for was, of course, the unknown. Maybe one day, over a decade after school ended, I’d get a lot of attention for making performance art about walking to grocery stores.

Huntley’s novels include “I Want You More,” “Getting Clean With Stevie Green,” “The Goddesses” and “We Could Be Beautiful.” She’s also the writer/illustrator of the darkly humorous “The Bad Mood Book” and “You’re Grounded: An Anti-Self-Help Book to Calm You the F— Down.” She lives in Los Angeles.

In 1951, not long after her breakthrough appearances in “All About Eve” and “The Asphalt Jungle,” Marilyn Monroe went to college: She enrolled in a pair of 10-week classes at UCLA’s adult-extension program, both covering literature. Looky-loos peeked through the windows. Some likely assumed a publicity stunt. But Monroe’s passion for books was sincere. An orphan who bounced around upward of a dozen foster homes and orphanages regretted that she’d never graduated high school, she moved often in her life but always made sure her books came wherever she went.

Gail Crowther’s “Marilyn and Her Books” is the story of that library, though more precisely it’s about what we’ve projected upon Monroe when we’re asked to consider that she had one. Our prevailing cultural reflex, then and now, is skepticism larded with misogyny. A famous 1955 photo of her sitting in a Long Island playground reading James Joyce’s “Ulysses” — one of 50 known photos of her reading — is routinely scoffed at whenever it’s posted online. (Crowther gathers up a sampling of misogynistic comments.)

But Crowther’s sleuthing determines that Joyce’s novel was a regular companion of hers, and she was particularly enchanted with Molly Bloom’s closing soliloquy. As an actor who had to be exceedingly smart to play dumb blondes, she used the shoot to make “a profound statement about her social positioning.”

Marilyn Monroe reads the book “To the Actor: On the Technique of Acting” by Michael Chekhov in a quiet moment at the Ambassador Hotel in New York.

(Ed Feingersh / Michael Ochs Archives / Getty Images)

Writing about Monroe’s reading habits demands a lot of speculation on the part of Crowther, who’s written engaging books on Dorothy Parker, Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton. We know a lot about the star’s library — when she died in 1962, she owned more than 400 books, diligently cataloged and auctioned in 1999. There’s documented marginalia and scribblings that suggest a serious reader, and anecdotes about her reciting poems at parties, reading Proust on set, and expounding on Whitman, Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. She had strong opinions about Hemingway: “Those big tough guys are so sick, they aren’t even all that tough. … They always want to kill something to prove themselves.”

And Crowther literally has the receipts from Los Angeles and Beverly Hills stores like the Pickwick Book Shop, Martindale’s Book Store and Hunter’s Books, where she purchased titles that were practical (“How to Live With a Cat”), relatable (“Sister Carrie”) and weighty (a three-volume life of Sigmund Freud).

Her third husband, playwright Arthur Miller, suggests the purchases were largely a pose: In his memoir, he wrote that aside from some short stories and Colette’s “Cheri” she likely never read anything start to finish. It would be nice to know more, but as Crowther pointedly observes multiple times, journalists never thought to ask her about her reading. When the subject of literature came up, Monroe seemed compelled to play to ditzy expectations. After telling interviewers she wanted to play Grushenka in an adaptation of “The Brothers Karamazov,” they asked her if she could spell the character’s name. She demurred.

A clearer historical record might have blunted the sexist comments that have stalked her, and given Crowther an opportunity to do less guesswork. “Marilyn and Her Books” is scaffolded with 15 chapters, each dedicated to a question that usually can’t be answered in full: “Did Marilyn read all her books?” (probably not, who does?), “Did Marilyn suffer from imposter syndrome?” (probably, who doesn’t?). Some questions feel like attempts to pad the pages (“Are there any surprising omissions from Marilyn’s personal library?” “How did Marilyn’s reading compare to that of her contemporaries?”). The elegiac opening and closing chapters, in which Crowther imagines visiting Monroe’s home and scanning her shelves, also add to the feeling that too much is being extrapolated out of not enough information.

Curiously, the book also dwells little on Monroe’s own literary ambitions. Crowther shares a few scraps of despairing, Plathian verse, but almost entirely neglects her unfinished posthumous memoir, published in 1974 as “My Story.” Its relative shapelessness, along with its use of a ghostwriter, doesn’t bolster her literary credentials, but its existence points to Monroe’s ambition to have them.

And there’s plenty to say about the literary work that Monroe herself has inspired, including Joyce Carol Oates’ 2000 masterpiece, “Blonde,” or Sharon Olds’ poem “The Death of Marilyn Monroe,” in which a man who carted away her body is shocked into the reality of “a woman breathing, just an ordinary woman breathing.” Writers have afforded Monroe the grace and status in death that she was rarely afforded in life.

But the core question that drives the book, the subject of a central chapter, is valuable: “Why is Marilyn Monroe’s reading ability doubted?” Among other things, Crowther argues, Monroe suffered from a “poisonous cocktail of patriarchy, industry decisions, cultural stereotypes, social expectations, Marilyn’s unwitting complicity,” and more. Crowther keeps her focus narrowly on Monroe, but it doesn’t require a substantial mental leap to see how Monroe is just one example of a cover-model-worthy woman artist being told she’s a try-hard for demonstrating intelligence. (To pick just one example, the pop star Dua Lipa’s book club has a demonstrated high-literary bent, selecting Tommy Orange, Olga Tokarczuk and Percival Everett, which got her mocked as “an alien spaceship touching down in a medieval peasant village.”)

“Marilyn’s reading formed a concerted effort to overcome any inadequacies she perceived in herself,” Crowther writes. That, too, made her a lot like anybody who goes to books to satisfy gaps in our knowledge. We can do that in private, to avoid embarrassment. For Monroe, though, the effort was always public and always suspect — the culture was attuned to see any book in her hand as a prop. For most people, reading is an escape route. For Monroe it only led to one more cul-de-sac.

Athitakis is a writer in Phoenix and author of “The New Midwest.”

WASHINGTON — President Trump said Saturday that the United States and Iran have agreed on the basic terms of an agreement to end the two countries’ nearly three-month-long war and reopen the Strait of Hormuz.

“An Agreement has been largely negotiated,” Trump wrote in a social media post. “Final aspects and details of the Deal are currently being discussed, and will be announced shortly. In addition to many other elements of the Agreement, the Strait of Hormuz will be opened.”

Iran’s state television network quoted Foreign Ministry spokesman Esmail Baghaei as saying the draft pact will be a “framework agreement” that defers talks toward limiting Iran’s nuclear program until later. Trump did not mention the nuclear issue in his statement.

If that is the form the deal takes, it would represent at least a short-term concession from the president, who initially demanded a definitive end to Iran’s nuclear program as the price of peace.

Trump has also relaxed an earlier U.S. demand that Iran give up its right to enrich uranium and says he would be satisfied with a deal to “suspend” enrichment for 20 years.

Those signs of U.S. flexibility have raised alarm from Iran hawks, reportedly including Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. They say they fear Trump is so intent on restoring the flow of oil from the gulf that he might agree to a deal that falls far short of U.S. goals.

Mark Dubowitz, a leading critic of past agreements with Iran, said he worries that Trump might settle for “a foolish agreement” to reopen the Strait of Hormuz.

“I’m concerned that the administration is looking to cut some ‘Phase One’ deal” in which Iran is given “significant sanctions relief in exchange for agreement to reopen the strait,” he said in an interview Friday. “I think that would be a foolish agreement. Iran would get real money, but they could continue to close the strait any time they wanted simply by making threats.”

Robert Kagan, a conservative foreign policy scholar at the Brookings Institution, wrote that a deal to reopen the strait while deferring the nuclear issue would amount to a U.S. “surrender.”

“On the present trajectory, Iran will emerge from the conflict many times stronger and more influential than it was before the war,” Kagan wrote in the Atlantic.

When the war began in February, Trump said he wanted not only to end Iran’s nuclear activities and destroy its ballistic missile program, but bring about regime change as well.

Instead, the nuclear talks have focused on narrower, more achievable goals: a “suspension” of nuclear enrichment for 20 years or less and removal or destruction of Iran’s highly enriched uranium, the essential ingredient for a nuclear weapon.

“A basic agreement shouldn’t be impossible to achieve,” said John W. Limbert, who worked on Iran policy at the State Department for three decades, and was one of the American hostages seized by Iranian militants in 1979. “The deal would be some kind of verifiable limits on the nuclear program in return for economic relief.”

“The fact that we’re talking about a suspension of all enrichment, and the question is whether it will be five years, 20 years or halfway in between — that’s important,” said Nate Swanson, an Iran expert who worked at the National Security Council under President Biden and Trump. “That sounds like you really have the basis for an agreement. … But don’t fool yourself to think that completely addresses the situation.”

Swanson said other issues, including Iran’s nuclear research and its advanced ballistic missiles, haven’t been addressed.

Despite signs of progress toward an agreement, the gaps between the two countries remain large.

Part of the problem is that both sides appear to believe they have won the war, said Danny Citrinowicz, a former Iran analyst at Israel’s defense intelligence agency.

Trump and other U.S. officials frequently assert that the United States has gained the upper hand by destroying Iran’s navy, air force and many of its missiles.

But the Iranians use a different scoring system, Citrinowicz said.

“Iran does not measure success the same way Washington often does,” he wrote in an email. “From Tehran’s perspective, simply holding firm in the face of American pressure can be framed as a win.”

“Tehran believes time is working against Trump politically and strategically,” he added. “Iran is prepared for prolonged confrontation; the United States, far less so.”

And even if a negotiated agreement is reached, the deals under discussion now won’t resolve all the conflicts between the two countries.

“An interim deal to buy time [is] probably where we end up,” Swanson said. “Buying time is not a bad thing. Ending a war is not a bad thing. But it’s not a comprehensive solution.”

Spencer Pratt, please give me a call.

We should talk.

You say you want to be mayor of Los Angeles, but do you really?

I know that being a candidate has rescued you from anonymity after your career in reality TV went off a cliff. You’ve got CEOs backing you, and fans raving, and you’ve managed to milk social media attention.

But at some point you might have to answer questions from the reporters you’ve been avoiding.

And if you win, you’re going to have to drive to City Hall five, six, seven days a week, and I don’t know if you saw my column a few weeks ago, but the fountain on the south lawn hasn’t worked in about 60 years. If you get elected, you better put a wrench in your lunch box, because nobody has figured out how to fix it.

So that’s the reality, pretty much. And the unions will want what they want, and the socialists on the City Council will be lying in wait, especially after President Trump blew you a cross-country air kiss and certified your MAGA credentials.

More than 30,000 people are waiting for their broken sidewalks to get fixed (I’m not exaggerating) but there’s no money, and if you hire several thousand more police officers as you’ve pledged, the city would be bankrupt for the next decade or so and you’d need to take out a loan to buy a doughnut.

So call me, like I say, because I think there’s still time to change your mind.

If you choose to proceed, and if you actually win, it might feel like you’re in a sequel to that reality show you did called “I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here,” and you may end up praying the show gets canceled. The mayor’s hours are long, and everywhere you go, someone will want you to fix this problem or that, and as you wander the halls of power you’ll think back on your campaign pledges and hear the constant echo of a line from H.L. Mencken:

“For every complex problem there is an answer that is clear, simple, and wrong.”

Can I confess something?

I’m feeling guilty about all of this.

Not to sound presumptuous, but I feel partly responsible for the fact that you’re in contention for the job.

Like you, I’ve been calling out issues with the management of L.A., and I’ve been doing it for years. But I had the good sense not to run for mayor.

Why’s that?

Because unlike you, I know the fixes aren’t as easy as we’d like them to be.

When Karen Bass was running the first time, I had a long talk with her about her homelessness plan, among other things. At the end of the day, she asked for my input.

I reminded her that as much as people would like for the city’s top elected official to immediately clear the streets, a mayor is limited by shared power with the City Council.

By drug epidemics and untreated mental illness that are largely under county authority.

By uncertain funding from the nation’s capital.

By global forces that transformed the economy and created staggering levels of inequality that are made all the worse by the high cost of housing.

Bass was aware of all that, but said that having worked in Sacramento and D.C., and having built relationships with county supervisors, she’d be able to build better systems and get better outcomes.

So how has she done?

Not great. And then there’s the fire.

As I’ve said before, leaving the country despite forecasts of elevated wildfire risk was probably the worst mistake of her political career.

I don’t need to remind you of that. Having lost your house in the Palisades, you know that Bass badly underreacted, then stumbled on the rebuilding, and then had a hand in downplaying the Fire Department’s failure to adequately deploy and extinguish the fire that became an inferno.

To summarize, she’s left herself wide open to a challenge.

And she probably can’t believe how lucky she is that you might be her November competition, if the two of you bounce out Councilmember Nithya Raman and the other candidates in the June 2 primary.

I don’t hold it against you that you haven’t worked in government or politics before. These days, a lot of voters prefer outsiders. But it might have helped if you’d done something of purpose at some point in your life, like run a successful business or volunteer at a food bank. Were you junior high class president, or were you in the Boy Scouts? Anything could help.

Not that being the boyfriend and later the husband of someone on an MTV reality show called “The Hills,” which chronicled the work of a woman who went from “Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County” to an internship at Teen Vogue, can’t prepare a young man for statesmanship.

In this culture, you could ride that all the way to the White House.

But the flimsy resume could explain, Spencer, why you’ve been taking so many social media-fueled potshots at Bass without offering anything of substance.

Let’s arrest drug zombies.

OK, then what?

I’d advise you to study the primer by my colleagues Doug Smith and Andrew Khouri on what you can and can’t do about homelessness as a mayor in L.A. Clearly, you’ve got a lot of boning up to do. In fact, I’m reminded of a line by a Philadelphia columnist years ago, when he said of a politician who wasn’t up to the job: He’s been standing in shallow water for so long, he doesn’t realize he can’t swim.

If I were you, I’d consider the fact that President Trump made the mistake of promising easy fixes. He was going to deliver a massive infrastructure program. He was going to deliver healthcare reform that was better and cheaper for everyone. He was going to lower consumer prices on Day One, and here we are, with millions of people wondering how they’re going to pay their bills while Trump rigs it so he doesn’t have to pay the IRS.

All that being said, I’m glad you decided to run, because elected officials need constant reminders that their jobs are not secure, even when the challengers are way in over their heads. I’d almost like to see you win, because that’s one reality show I’d be sure to watch.

And I say this despite the fact that you once told your talk show buddy Alex Jones — who insisted that 9/11 was an inside job and that the Sandy Hook massacre of 20 children was a hoax — that melting ice caps are overrated. Or, as you explained it to Jones, “we’ve all seen footage of the polar bears swimming to new pieces of ice.”

When the general election rolls around, and the ice begins to break, will you know how to swim?

steve.lopez@latimes.com

At this year’s festival to unveil our inaugural Cannes issue, I had to opportunity to sit down with Sony Pictures Classics co-founders and co-presidents Michael Barker and Tom Bernard and EVP of Acquisitions, Production and Business Affairs Dylan Leiner on the Main Stage at the Marché du Film to discuss the company’s festival strategy, bidding wars, artificial intelligence and more. Watch the full conversation and read edited excerpts below.

How much does the festival reception of a movie, the reviews coming out of a festival, the buzz around it, shape decisions that you’re making? Or is it just confirming what your gut already knows?

Leiner: I want to tell one story that speaks to that, which was at the first Berlin Film Festival we attended after COVID. I remember, in the same day, I ran into three international distributors who all asked if we had seen “The Teacher’s Lounge.” And I didn’t even know what the film was. It wasn’t on our radar, it wasn’t in competition. So we quickly saw “Teacher’s Lounge” and we acquired the film [which went on to be nominated for the 2024 international feature Oscar]. And that was one of the great values of an in-person festival, the ability very quickly to communicate with distributors, with tastemakers, with critics from around the world and get that kind of information. Gut, personal taste… It plays into it a lot, but then we need reassurance. And being at a festival and being in this fishbowl environment is really helpful for that.

For a lot of people, myself included, the mystique of a festival is often around the bidding war narratives: Who’s going to pick up what and what are they going to pay? I’m curious for your take on the first big acquisition of this year’s Cannes, A24 buying “Club Kid” for a reported $17 million.

Bernard: Throughout the years, there were companies [that would] maybe overpay, or they were going to bid to get this movie no matter what, because they were the headline in all the newspapers covering this festival. So in terms of a company that’s branding — which, A24 is one of the best in branding — I think that that had to do with a little bit of the cash that went up. … There’s a branding aspect in a lot of festivals for a movie that’s a hot movie that the press has decided to seize on.

Barker: Here’s a key to how we have survived. It’s different from the way you talk about it. When we acquire a movie, whether anyone else has offers, we try to block it out. And we have trained ourselves to not let that noise bother us. What is it worth to us? What do we think it’s going to do? Dylan runs these incredible models of what it’ll do on the low end, what it will do on the high end. And then you decide where you want to be.

Bernard: Or we think we can make it work.

Barker: But at no point do we sit around and worry about who else has a higher offer for the movie. Because I have to say, in very few instances, on the movies we buy, are we the higher offer. We just do the best we can, and if we lose it, we lose it.

Bernard: [French film producer] Serge Silberman, a sage of the past, he always said, “You never lose money on a movie you didn’t buy.”

That brings up a question that I had about “Nuremberg,” which was a real success. What you’re saying is, it performed in alignment with your expectations. Were there any lessons that you took away from that in terms of future projects that might come along?

Leiner: Yes, it performed in accordance with our expectations. What’s interesting about that film, we acquired it here last year. Nobody else was really interested in the movie. … So our challenge basically was to figure out how to convince the filmmaking team that, because it was a very expensive film, that we were the right company to acquire the film on the terms that we could afford and that we could make it work. And it was a very intense series of phone conversations, in-person meetings.

Bernard: We felt like we were auditioning to get married to somebody. We were never going to be able to pay to make their money back. It was a $40-million movie, and they were really sort of out there without anybody really looking at it. And we said, “Listen, sell it to us. We think it’s going to be a great success. We’ll make your movie way more valuable over the test of time.”

Barker: There are two types of movies that are being made and distributed. One are the big tentpole studio movies. It’s about winning the weekend theatrically. These are the theatrical-driven movies. And it’s all about making that huge budget back very quickly. But the other kind of film, which is why we are in business, is the evergreen. Every one of our films, we open it with the best marketing push we can. Yes, we try to get the highest box office. But what we know will happen, even if the box office ends up being less, we believe in these films as long-term players. And these films have really long tails. You look at movies like “Run Lola Run” or “Call Me By Your Name” or even “Living” … They have generated revenues to the filmmakers and to us that’s way beyond what the box office would have portended when it opened.

I would be curious, what areas of the filmmaking process or the film distribution process do you think AI is appropriate for use, that you’ve experimented with it, that you’re excited about its prospects? And where are your red lines, if you have any?

Barker: One of the people on our staff — we really love our young staff. One of them was writing a screenplay with AI, and told me they got certain rules on AI. And I’m listening to all these rules. You can’t have your main character die in a first scene. You can’t have your romantic female lead be totally unlikable, people aren’t going to go. I’m listening to this, and I said, “Have you ever seen ‘Sunset Boulevard?’” And she goes, “No, what is that?” I said, “Go watch that movie.” She came back and she was like, “Holy cow.” I said, “Billy Wilder sat down and made that up based on what he observed.” AI is not going to be able to do that.

For a guy who has become known for his monstrous output of clips, comedy specials and content, it’s a wonder Josh Johnson has time to stop to think about what makes his comedy timeless. As a former writer and now one of the hosts of “The Daily Show,” much of Johnson’s humor outside of specials relies on his ability to deliver jokes on the dumpster fire du jour when it comes to pop culture and politics. But for his latest one-hour special, “Symphony,” premiering Friday on HBO, he wanted to orchestrate something different that would still be funny 40 years from now, regardless of what’s fashionable or who is running the country.

Using music as a canvas to paint a funny, layered portrait of the human experience, Johnson creates a set that comes alive with the sound of more than the laughter at the Wiltern, where the special was filmed earlier this year. With stories focused on surviving rowdy family, moments of loneliness, struggles with faith, and navigating our deepest human relationships, Johnson’s abilities as a pensive storyteller are conducted masterfully. The result is an hour that helps showcase his refined comedic voice, surprise the audience and sound the trumpets for his next round of touring.

This interview was edited for length and clarity.

Why was it important for you to veer so strongly into music as a theme of your new special, “Symphony”?

I think music, in a way that nothing else does, brought the central points and themes of the special home. In the beginning [scene] with the title card and the busker who has a [music-related] quote in front of him, that’s sort of the mission statement of the special and everything I’m trying to do. The thing to me is including the music to help bring about these ideas and bring each section home and bring it all the together in a way that obviously I’m also attempting to do through the comedy. I think thematically there’s nothing stronger to make the overall point than music.

What inspired you to shoot it at the Wiltern?

The Wiltern is so beautiful and it also lends itself to that sort of art aspect I’m talking about in the very beginning of the special. Things that have that look of the Wiltern help not just create a spectacle, but give you something really beautiful to look at. You get something really beautiful to listen to in the music, and then the comedy helps decorate the hour that we’re spending together.

“If you speak to a lot of people’s timelessness around family and culture and some of the bigger topics, but without naming names, I think that you create something that really stands the test of time,” Johnson says about his new special, “Symphony,” premiering Friday on HBO.

(Ser Baffo / HBO)

You definitely play around with the format of a typical special in this new hour. As somebody who has mastered the ability to release a crazy amount of comedy in recent years on YouTube and social media, what aspect of a traditional one-hour special do you still find important?

I think that everything that I’ve been doing so far is pretty topical and very of the moment, even when I’m not talking about a specific pop culture or political topic. I think that there’s a time for comedy of the moment, but then I also think there’s an aspect that you want to be timeless, and that’s what the specials are for me. You want the piece to be something that people watch 40 years from now, and I don’t always expect every single set that I put out to have that level of longevity. Because no matter how it feels right now, there’s going to come a time where we look at the people who take up so much of our bandwidth and our thoughts throughout the day as just a sort of passing political fashion or the things that we see as like huge indicators of where society is right now will eventually become forgotten crazes. But I think that if you speak to the human condition, if you speak to a lot of people’s timelessness around family and culture and some of the bigger topics, but without naming names, you create something that really stands the test of time.

There’s a duality between your timely comedy on “The Daily Show” and the timelessness you’re aiming for in specials. Was it important for you to separate the two ways that people might see you as a comedian?

People are going to have their takeaways from whatever you do. I try bringing the same amount of intention to everything, but as far as the way people see me, it’s something that’s kind of out of my control.

Religion comes up a lot in the special, the Bible specifically. I’d read somewhere that you had taken a break from practicing Christianity in recent years. If so, what was your reason for including the topic in your special?

I wouldn’t even necessarily call it a break, I just think that there’s moments you’ll find yourself in, where whether you grew up on a text or a certain few tenants that you live by, there’s always going to come a time where it’s really important to revisit those things… It’s not necessarily that I bring religion up in the special because I stopped practicing. It’s actually because I think that if I’m breaking life down into these sort of pillars that make up a person — I’m not saying religion has to be one of them — but I do find it to be an aspect for a lot of people. So if I’m once again trying to speak to things from a universal perspective as best I can, I think it’s something that that definitely comes up.

Comic Josh Johnson turns his new hour into a concertlike experience, using live music, a busker’s credo and L.A.’s ornate Wiltern Theatre to tie jokes into a single, sweeping theme.

(Ser Baffo / HBO)

Considering how well you use music as a backdrop for the special, how long did it take to come up with a concept for the hour? Did you write the jokes before coming up with the structure or vice versa?

I basically had a structure before I had a set, and I went to the director Jacob Menache about the idea for this thing like three years ago and we were talking about how best to make it work. That was long before I knew what jokes were going to go where, or how many things, how many aspects we were going to add to it, or anything. So I think that it’s been a long time coming, as far as like the actual structure of what you end up seeing.

Watching your special was the first time I paid real attention to who the musical director was in the credits. What was it like working with respected bassist and producer Derrick Hodge on creating the concept for the music in “Symphony”?

I look at Derrick as someone who was doing a lot of interesting things, and so I thought it was going to be a fantastic opportunity to get to work with him. I don’t know that much about music, to be honest. I try to dabble with producing here and there because I have ideas, but it’s the real musicians, the real artists that take the ideas that I might pitch out and create something with it. So I really leaned on Derrick as much as possible to like bring us home. I feel like so much of what I was trying to do was in bringing an overall idea of the structure of a set and asking Derek, “Hey, what do you think about this?” I don’t know if I could have ever thought up a way to create what I was trying to build without him.

Was there something about you that you felt like you wanted to get across in this special that maybe you haven’t gotten to in your previous specials?

It can be tough to show new shades of yourself when you put out a lot of stuff, and you are always kind of coming with stories about your life and your childhood or anything like that when I think of putting a set together, especially something that is attempting to be timeless. Overall, I think every new story is a new story to [the audience]. But I think that if you can express how you used to think versus how you think now, that can be revealing. Towards the beginning [of “Symphony”] I talk about how there are things I didn’t understand until pretty close to the special in theory, things I didn’t understand until like a week ago, or I’ve always held this belief, or something like that, and I think that if you can give people insight to your evolution as a person, I think that’s a really powerful thing.

“I think music, in a way that nothing else does, brought the central points and themes of the special home,” Johnson says.

(Ser Baffo / HBO)

Were there any things that occurred during the rehearsal process that genuinely surprised you?

Watching it come together was a huge surprise, because you know, [the director] Jacob’s out here in L.A., I’m in New York, and so I make the flight down and everything, but the Thursday rehearsal with the musicians [before the taping] was the first time I was seeing everything come together. It was first time I was hearing everything, and so I think watching something finally come to life after such a long period of time is always going to throw you for a loop.

Now that the special will finally be out, what plans do you have next about how to showcase your comedy?

I’m really excited for people to see what’s coming. I start the tour Comedy Band Camp in June. I have some surprises for people there as well, and I’m looking forward to showcasing lots of artists. I’m looking forward to showcasing as much as I can that helps me elevate the level of craft and what I bring to people. And so I’m doing that through even more collaborations. I’m going to be hyping up some people that maybe you’ve heard of, or maybe you haven’t heard of. The special is kind a beautiful kick off for the tour that I’m going to be doing because we are going to be on the road for quite a while, and I chose Comedy Band Camp as a theme, because camp is this thing that people are nostalgic for, it’s a place to go that is safe, where you make friends. Band is about people coming together for a shared goal, it’s about everyone having a singular purpose towards creating art. So I think mixing those two things together will be a unique experience that no one can get anywhere else, and it’ll be a challenge to present it as best as possible. But I have a lot of plans for how I’m going to do that.

Nearly 50 years on from “Star Wars” and the launch of a media empire (large or small “e”? You decide), the fandom has become its own galaxy of warring planets. But based on the success of the streaming series “The Mandalorian,” set around the title bounty hunter, we can all agree that his charge Grogu — green, wrinkled, big-eyed Baby You-Know-Who — is still adorable. Of the many “Star Wars” offshoots, this seems to be the sturdiest.

The brand is back together for “The Mandalorian and Grogu,” which is a movie, a hoped-for franchise revival, a fourth season of sorts and an affable throwback. But it’s never quite riveting enough as canon or fodder to supplant anyone’s memories of [insert favorite “Star Wars” film here].

The expectations game was never going to help series creator Jon Favreau’s big-screen version, written with Dave Filoni and Noah Kloor. Granted, this upscaled, agreeably rangy treatment of an adventure storyline that wouldn’t have been out of place on the show could have attempted more. Especially when it puts sci-fi icon Sigourney Weaver in an X-wing pilot uniform as a veteran of the Rebellion, but barely gives her anything to do besides secure Mando a job and keep tabs on his progress. (Gang, try harder. It’s Sigourney Weaver.)

Aimed squarely at kids of all sizes, “Star Wars” has become a glorified tour of a billionaire’s expanding playworld and “The Mandalorian and Grogu” wants the track well-oiled, not bumpy. The simple pleasures here of good vs evil, IMAX hugeness and composer Ludwig Göransson’s space-opera-hits-the-club score, go down easy enough to not be aggravating. It’s a lot.

But it’s not this reviewer’s position to tell you what “a lot” is — loose lips spoil scripts. When the moment comes at an appropriately dangerous time for our heroes, we sense the kind of thing that only movies can do well when they’re myths writ large: slow things down, shift momentum away from the tyranny of exposition and let emotion, humor, wonder and character co-exist. “The Mandalorian and Grogu” takes the series’ thematic underpinnings — what parenting looks like between a masked human loner and an otherworldly toddler — and deepens them.

The movie takes place in wonderfully detailed environments that evoke the earlier, beloved films. You’re not being pandered to, however; the payoff is a lovely echo. Elsewhere, the action set pieces are serviceably handled by Favreau. (One of them plays like, of all things, an homage to “The French Connection.”)

Otherwise, this is another hunt-and-retrieve narrative for the bounty hunter voiced by Pedro Pascal, physically embodied in armor by Brendan Wayne and, in combat, by fight choreographer Lateef Crowder. Still independent but New Republic-curious, Mando is tasked by Weaver’s Col. Ward to find a wayward scion of the slimy gangster Hutt clan, Rotta (voiced by Jeremy Allen White), whose return will unlock some important information. Of course, things don’t go as planned, which for a while is interesting — are the Hutts like the Corleones, perhaps? — until it’s not, because then the dialogue would need to rise above the level of a middle-school play.

That being said, one of the movie’s strong points, absent its story deficiencies, is that, across its many wordless scenes, it’s at heart a solidly rousing, delightfully icky creature feature, in the vein of a supercharged Ray Harryhausen-meets-Guillermo del Toro joint. “It’s a hard world for little things,” Lillian Gish famously says in “The Night of the Hunter,” a movie nobody will ever confuse with “The Mandalorian and Grogu.” But we all know summer fare like this is only ever as enjoyable as the monsters conjured up for conquering.

SAN DIEGO — The Dodgers entered the late innings Monday in an unenviable position: trailing the Padres, whose biggest strength is their bullpen.

“When they have a lead they don’t relinquish it too often,” manager Dave Roberts said after the Dodgers’ 1-0 loss Monday. “You know the numbers — when they’re ahead in the seventh inning they don’t lose. You do have to be a little more aggressive and capitalize when you do get those chances.”

Including Monday, the Padres are 20-2 when leading after six innings, 21-1 when leading after seven, and they have a perfect 22-0 record when leading after eight.

Even when Padres closer Mason Miller got off to an uncharacteristically wild start in the ninth inning Monday, the Dodgers failed to capitalize.

He walked Freddie Freeman and Kyle Tucker on nine pitches. And the next three batters — Will Smith, Max Muncy and Andy Pages — all have proven their ability to do damage in clutch moments.

But it was Miller on the mound, a rare reliever who could actually challenge for the Cy Young Award.

“In this kind of series, you know you’re going to have close games,” Freeman said after the game. “And we just couldn’t get it done.”

Miller got out of the jam with a fly out, strikeout and ground ball, and notched his league-leading 15th save.

Shohei Ohtani dives back to first base in the fourth inning.

(Tony Ding / Ap Photo/tony Ding)

“We still had really good at-bats,” Freeman said. “There’s a silver lining to it. Scoring off Mason is going to be really hard to do. It’s going to take one of those kinds of innings where you can maybe walk a couple of guys and get a bloop. Not much squaring up going on against him.

“But we had an opportunity, maybe with him throwing a lot of pitches might make him be down next game. You just try to have little wins.”

The Dodgers could also avoid him by claiming a lead. On Monday, Dodgers starter Yoshinobu Yamamoto held the Padres to three hits and one run — Miguel Andujar’s first-inning homer.

But the Dodgers’ offense, which scored 31 runs in a three-game series against the Angels, only managed four hits off Padres starting pitcher Michael King, and only one in the first five innings.

“You’re trying to cover realistically 30 inches,” Freeman said. “Because you have ball-to-strike pitches — you’ve got backdoor sliders that are starting as balls coming back, you’ve got front-door sinkers for lefties. So it’s not just the whole plate you’re worried about; you’re going to worry about a whole lot of different things. … He had all of it working tonight.”

The Dodgers finally strung some hits together in the sixth. With two outs and Hyeseong Kim on first, Shohei Ohtani beat out a swinging bunt, and the throw from Padres catcher Rodolfo Duran zipped past first base.

Kim, who took off from first on contact, rounded third hard but slammed on the brakes when third base coach Dino Ebel held up the stop sign.

“It’s kind of the timing of it, where [Fernando] Tatis [Jr.] came up with the ball, and Dino’s got to make the decision,” Roberts said. “You don’t know that he’s not going to come up with it clean. At that point in time, to be quite honest, Dino had the best view of the runner coming in, Kim, and where they were at on the field. So it’s one of those things, I’m definitely not going to second guess it.”

Kim was stranded there.

Then in the eighth, he again made it to third on a single from Ohtani with two outs. And again, he got stuck 90 feet away from tying the score.

Welcome back to the Times of Troy newsletter, where USC and Notre Dame are back at the bargaining table — as you first read in this space last Monday — and also back to bickering about who’s to blame for blowing up their century-old rivalry in the first place. One step closer to order being restored!

I have less faith in the rest of college football and its leadership, which now appears to be mobilizing around a playoff format that’s almost universally disliked by actual consumers of college football. The 24-team playoff is a great deal for coaches, who want to be able to point to as many playoff berths as possible for job security. It’s probably a good deal for athletic directors, digging through couch cushions for extra NIL dollars. And for the TV networks, it’s especially juicy. Twenty four teams means more than double the number of games, and each of those games is pulling in an average of between 10 million and 20 million viewers. That’s a lot of eyeballs and a lot of advertising dollars. (For everyone but ESPN, which currently has exclusive rights up to 14 teams.)

It’s also a good deal for Notre Dame, whose athletic director Pete Bevacqua came out this week in support of the 24-team playoff in an interview with the Athletic. The Irish would essentially assure themselves of a bid in most years, which, per Bevacqua, would make it easier to clear the way for USC and Notre Dame to play again.

Big Ten commissioner Tony Pettiti has been leading the charge on the 24-team playoff. So while USC athletic director Jennifer Cohen hasn’t said anything about her preference, it would be a surprise to hear her publicly oppose what the rest of the conference has been pushing.

But why do we have to push anywhere? Why do we have to keep fixing the playoff? And if you must keep tinkering with college football, well, there are plenty of ways to fix it that won’t water down the product and devalue the regular season the way playoff expansion does. Plus, who’s to say that after two seasons at 24 teams, the conference commissioners don’t decide they want to expand again? To 28 teams? To 36 teams?

The 12-team playoff already makes a lot of money. But like everything now, it has to make the most possible money or be as big as possible. I actually long for the days when college football’s leaders did whatever they could to keep the game from changing.

Now it’s the only thing that feels inevitable these days around college football.

Back to school

Marqise Lee at his graduation ceremony.

(USC)

Marqise Lee stepped to the lectern Friday, in full cap and gown, looked out over a full crowd at Galen Center, and cleared his throat. For so many reasons, the former USC wideout still couldn’t quite believe he was standing there.

Growing up, no part of Lee thought that college would even be available to him. He was brought up in the most difficult of circumstances in Inglewood. Separated at a young age from his sister and his mother, who was deaf. Thrust alone into the foster care system. He ended up living in a motel for three years.

When he did make it to USC, class hadn’t been a priority. Football was his focus from the start, and it would ultimately lead him to the NFL, where he’d never really taken the idea of returning to school that seriously. A counselor would try to convince him on a few occasions and even got him onto campus to set up a schedule.

“But it just never happened,” Lee told me.

Then, his football career ended, and his daughters started getting older. They never got to see him play football. He started thinking about what it would mean to show them what he could accomplish. So Lee decided to go back.

It wasn’t easy at first. He was taking five classes, a full course load. He felt uncomfortable being the oldest student in the class.

“When I first sat in there,” he said, ”I was like, I really don’t need to come back.”

His statistics class, especially, was daunting. He looked for any reason to leave. Then, he thought of his daughters.

“To go back to school and tell my daughters, yeah, I went back, but I wasn’t successful — and expect them to succeed?” Lee said. “Yeah, I can’t.”

But before long, Lee found that he actually liked his classes now. He enjoyed the group projects where he used to only do the bare minimum.

After sloughing off his final semester the first time around at USC, Lee needed at least three B’s and two A’s. No easy feat at USC.

Lee ended up getting A’s across the board. At the end of the semester, the school asked him to be the speaker at its student athlete commencement. Which is what led Lee to that stage, where he delivered a hell of a speech Friday.

“It was just like, this is something that you never ever dreamed about,” Lee said. “You never dreamed about graduating from college. So like to get that done was amazing. And then, I have an opportunity to sit up here and say to these kids and get them prepared for their future, by at least letting them understand where I come from and how hard it is. So they know that we actually can fight through anything that comes our way.”

Next up for Lee?

“I’m about to try and go get my master’s degree after this,” he said.

Cofie’s plans changing?

Jacob Cofie reacts after a layup and a foul during a win over Washington State last season.

(Steve Galluzzo / For The Times)

A month ago, USC basketball announced that Jacob Cofie, one of its starters from last season, planned to return next season. It was a huge coup for Eric Musselman, who had a grand total of two returning players in two seasons as USC’s coach.

Cofie decided to still take part in the G League scouting combine. But in the process, he became one of five players who earned invites to the NBA scouting combine last weekend.

While in Chicago, Cofie was asked if he’d considered keeping his name in the draft. And he didn’t say no. “I’m leaving that up to my agent right now,” he said.

But even with the combine invite, I don’t expect that Cofie could climb any higher than the second round of this NBA draft. And depending on where he would be drafted, if he’s drafted at all, he might actually stand to make more at USC in revenue sharing dollars and NIL.

Cofie has nine days, technically, to make a decision. But I expect we’ll hear sooner than that on his future, and I’d be shocked to hear he’ll be spending next season anywhere but USC.

—USC baseball locked up the fourth seed in the Big Ten tournament. But what about hosting a regional? The Trojans managed to take one of three against Oregon to at least lock up a bye until Friday in the Big Ten tournament. But right now, USC is likely on the outside looking in at hosting its first NCAA regional since 2002. All that could change with a run in the Big Ten tournament. Doing so, though, probably means pulling off an upset of No. 1 UCLA. If USC wins its first tournament matchup against whomever emerges out of Illinois, Iowa, Michigan State and Purdue, then the Bruins will almost certainly be on tap. Win that game, and their hosting fate could change fast.

—Pete Carroll is coming back to teach “The Game of Life” at USC. The former USC coach delivered the commencement address for the Marshall School of Business last Friday, and in the process, announced that he’ll be making his triumphant return as Professor Pete next school year. A spot in Carroll’s class was one of the most coveted on campus in his first go-round — good luck getting off that waitlist the second time!

—Honor Fa’alave Johnson, USC’s top commit in 2027, reaffirmed his plans to sign with USC. That was after a group of USC coaches flew down to the safety’s hometown of San Diego via helicopter. Not a bad way to show you mean business — especially as Texas was doing its best to flip Fa’alave Johnson.

—Some Big Ten championship results from the weekend: The USC men finished fourth in the Big Ten track and field championships, while the USC women finished third. Meanwhile, women’s rowing placed sixth at their Big Ten championships.

What I’m Reading This Week

Patrick Radden Keefe writes for the New Yorker.

(Manuel Balce Ceneta / Associated Press)

It’s a quiet time for new TV, so I took the radical step of picking up a new book this week. (Crazy, I know.) That said, I’m always game for reading something new from New Yorker staff writer Patrick Radden Keefe, who, for my money, is one of our greatest living nonfiction writers. His latest book, “London Falling” follows an American family investigating the death of their 19-year-old son, who they find was living a secret life within London’s criminal underworld mysteriously before he jumped mysteriously from a building into the Thames River in 2019.

Keefe is a tremendous reporter and writer, capable of turning a nonfiction narrative into a roller coaster, page-turning story that reads like a crime novel. This book, like “Say Nothing” and “Empire of Pain” before it, is one I won’t forget any time soon.

Scheduling note

I said I’d be off this week, however the Lee graduation was so nice that waiting to report on it seemed wrong. But the newsletter will be on hiatus the next two weeks.

In case you missed it

NCAA to expand March Madness fields to 76 teams

A star pitcher at USC, he was cut after six years in the minors. Then Banana Ball came calling

Until next time …

That concludes today’s newsletter. If you have any feedback, ideas for improvement or things you’d like to see, email me at ryan.kartje@latimes.com, and follow me on X at @Ryan_Kartje. To get this newsletter in your inbox, click here.

Kaden Tennyson is a high school senior who works at an ice cream shop to make a few bucks to help pay for Uber drives and a veterinarian bill for his injured dog. He’s also a shotputter and discus thrower at Riverside Notre Dame.

He was suffering from a strained tendon in his right ankle resting at home when his ice cream manager called with a request for assistance.

“It was insanely busy,” said Tennyson, who is 6 feet 6 and 300 pounds. “I took an Advil and served birthday cake, brownie, chocolate fudge.”

There was no way Tennyson wouldn’t answer the call for duty.

“It’s my first job as a teenager,” he said. “It’s good for job experience.”

Tennyson never made it to the Southern Section track preliminaries after winning the league title.

“Every throw, it hurt badly,” he said. “I wanted to push through it.”

He made the decision to protect his future, so he passed on a chance to compete at Saturday’s Southern Section track championships.

He’s enjoyed much success in high school, on and off the playing field. He was back-to-back Skyline League champion. His best efforts were 51-10 in the shotput and 145-7 in the discus. He was admitted to 19 colleges. He was recognized by the Riverside Hall of Fame as a top scholar-athlete. He’s a two-time Principal’s Honor Roll recipient.

And yet, all that pales in comparison to what he has been forced to endure while his mother, Janet, twice battled cancer, affecting everyone emotionally and financially.

“As a mother, it’s been humbling to watch the kind of young man he has become through adversity,” Janet said in a letter she wrote honoring her son.

Fighting cancer is exhausting for everyone involved.

“We didn’t a spend a lot of time together, “ Kaden said. “She was mainly asleep. I wanted to be strong at home and not cry to make her sad. My friends helped a lot.”

Some of the senior activities Kaden hoped to participate in were lost for financial reasons, like going to the prom with his girlfriend.

He’s focused on the future.

“One of my dreams is to raise my own successful family,” he said. “In order to do that, you need to be successful yourself.”

He’ll take his 3.8 grade-point average and giant body to study buisness and compete in track and field at UC Irvine.

His mother is recovering. He intends to walk at graduation on June 5.

His mother says, “Kaden’s journey reflects resilience, family, perseverance and the reality that the effects of a serious illness don’t end when treatment does.”

Kaden’s smile continues. Maybe it’s because he works at an ice cream shop.

Asked he if he gets to sample the products, he said, “Sometimes.”

That’s a happy ending on any day.

Clave Especial is finally taking a break.

In the last two months, the corrido tumbado band from Salinas, Calif., performed at the South by Southwest music festival in Texas—and made headlines by singing a narcocorrido; spoke to Latino students at Cornell University in upstate New York; and even embarked on a impromptu 10-hour road trip to show their support for Juan, a contestant from Mexico on one of MrBeast’s latest challenges who has become a viral sensation.

In fact, the trio— lead singer Alejandro Ahumada, guitarist Leonardo Lomeli and tololoche player Rogelio Gonzalez — felt so compelled to make the pilgrimage to the North Carolina grocery store where Juan has been sequestered for months, that they ditched all press events for their latest EP “Afterafter,” released on April 30, in order to meet and serenade him. The band even awarded a $5,000 scholarship to his son, Angel.

“Why? Because it felt so right,” said Ahumada. “His story connected with us, because we also come from hardworking parents that really gave it all for us.”

As the rush of East Coast travel wore off, Clave Especial returned to Salinas to throw a huge homecoming bash. “It’s like a full-circle moment,” said Ahumada of their May 4 performance at the Salinas Sports Complex.

They joined a video call from their childhood bedrooms to discuss “Afterafter,” a five-track project set to a fiery tempo — 140 BPM to be exact — that is nostalgic for summer days and the never-ending after-parties they bring. The songs were selected from their vault, they said, which includes a long list of tracks that didn’t make the cut for “Mija No Te Asustes,” the band’s 2025 critically acclaimed debut that featured co-signs by Fuerza Regida, Edgardo Nuñez and Luis R Conquirez.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

What was it like to perform back home in Salinas?

Alex: That’s actually the second time that we come back as Clave Especial. The first show was at the Fox Theater, which was a sold-out show. People were asking us, “Hey when are you guys coming back?” We decided to do it now at the Salinas Sports Complex.

Jumping to the EP, how did “Afterafter” come to be?

Alex: It was more like a fun concept that we kind of had in mind. We were actually working towards an album at a writers camp in Ensenada. It was at the beach. Then we jumped around to Miami, Puerto Vallarta. We caught ourselves jumping around beaches, a lot of parties. We want to give people like a summer EP, something they can slap during the summer when they’re partying.

If “Mija No Te Asustes” is an album about this confident boss man calling the shots, how would you characterize “Afterafter”?

Alex: I think it’s that same guy from the first album, he’s still living it up. In “Mija No Te Asustes” there’s some songs like “Como Capo” that introduce that vibe to this EP, so we just continued that wave. It was our biggest song yet. We knew that people liked us apart from the corridos like “Rápido Soy,” “No Son Doritos,” but I think with “Como Capo” we discovered that people like other sounds and lyrics. That’s what we tried to continue in “Afterafter.”

Musically, how would you describe the sound of this EP?

Leo: One thing about us, when we get in the studio, we play a lot in the tempo 6/8s, this upbeat speed. We always hit the BPM at 140 BPM — that’s the Clave Especial essence.

One of the songs that caught my interest was “Scary Movie,” because it reminded me of a corrido-inspired “Thriller” (by Michael Jackson). It also connects the past album because there’s a phrase where you say “Mija, no te asustes.” Tell me the backstory of that spooky song.

Alex: That’s funny, because I’m going to watch the Michael Jackson movie today. That song was actually composed by someone from Street Mob from Ensenada. I think that song was already in the vault.

Leo: That song was tailored for [the past] album. The [ad lib] was an Easter egg.

I saw that you were all recently in North Carolina at the grocery store where Mr. Beast is doing a challenge. There’s one Mexican dad named Juan competing for the million-dollar prize. You guys went to see him and also gave his son a scholarship. Why was it important for you guys to show up?

Alex: Basically we were in [New York] having dinner. We had some press the next day but we had to cancel on them. We commented on Mr. Beast’s video, and the comment got a lot of likes, we’re like “oh shoot, this is dope, this has a real impact on the Mexican community.” His son had swiped up on us, thanking us for supporting his dad.

We saw that Juan told his son to leave the competition ‘cause he wanted to keep going to school. I think we’re one of the few bands in the industry that went to school. I have my bachelor’s degree from Fresno State. It was something that really resonated with us. We had also just come off a panel there at Cornell University so everything just set the tone. We saw the map. It was 10 hours away, obviously a drive, but this opportunity’s never gonna come. We’re from Cali and this is on the other side of the country and we’re here now. Let’s show that the Mexican community is very powerful, united. Let’s go show some support to Juan and his kid. Hopefully he wins!

The last time we chatted was at the Rolling Stone showcase at SXSW. I didn’t get a chance to talk to y’all afterwards, during the end of your set, you sang a cover of Los Alegres del Barranco’s “El Del Palenque” which venerates the narco leader El Mencho, who was killed by Mexican forces just weeks prior. Why was it important for Clave to sing that song specifically?

Alex:  We just like the song. At the end of the day it’s just music. It’s storytelling. It’s corridos. That’s what corridos is all about, and that’s why I got into the music scene. We just like the song. We’re from Jalisco, from Michoacán. It always turns up the crowd, so we did it for the people. People want to hear corridos. We’ve been seeing the censorship going on, but at the end of the day I don’t think that’s the problem. It’s a lot deeper than that, and music is just music, we’re just storytelling, singing music, having fun on stage.  I don’t know if we had it in our set list or not, but I think we had just played a song prior to that that had the same tones. I was like, keep it going, let’s play this one next. Nothing deep.

So it wasn’t planned?

Alex: No, it wasn’t. Afterwards I was like, “Damn, I sang that.” But, eh, who cares?

Do you guys ever get worried when you sing corridos? Or is that something that you’re able to manage being from the U.S., which provides a layer of protection?

Alex: There’s a famous dicho: El que nada debe, nada teme. Like at the end of the day we don’t owe anybody anything. We do music, we’re here by our own sacrifice. People that know our story know that.

Maya Hawke sits at a picnic table in Griffith Park with an iced tea and a small notebook and happily reports that she still likes her new record.

“Every other album cycle I’ve done, by the time I got to the point where the album came out, I hated it,” says the 27-year-old singer and actor. “I was just exhausted by the internet and by being public, and I wouldn’t want to post about it. So I kind of tried to build this rollout where it could be enjoyable. And it seems to be working.”

On this recent morning, she’s about a week and a half from releasing “Maitreya Corso,” a set of deep-thinking folk-pop songs about love and art and how the two intersect; to help drum up interest in the LP, Hawke’s fourth, she’s on tour playing intimate live gigs like the one she did last night at the Troubadour, where she was accompanied by Christian Lee Hutson, with whom she made the record.

Hutson, who’s known for his work with Phoebe Bridgers, is also Hawke’s husband: After collaborating on her 2022 album “Moss” and 2024’s “Chaos Angel,” the two were married this past Valentine’s Day in Hawke’s hometown of New York. (You may have seen the pictures in People magazine of the couple on the street with Hawke’s parents, Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman, and her castmates from “Stranger Things.”)

As we talk, Hawke wears the same vintage Beastie Boys T-shirt she had on at the Troubadour; when we’re finished, she’s got a flight to catch to Denver for her and Hutson’s next show.

I was struck last night by the intense eye contact between you and your husband.
I’ve never played guitar before onstage, and so I think a lot of that is me being nervous and wanting to keep rhythm. I’m looking at his eyes but also at his hands. His chordal shapes are different than mine but I’m following the rhythm to make sure I’m staying in the pocket.

Why didn’t you play guitar before?
I’ve been playing since I was 11, but I reached a point where I was getting better a lot slower than my brother was or than other people in my life. You pick up the guitar to play and then a bunch of guys sit down next to you and they’re like, “Oh, can we jam?” And you’re like, “I don’t know if I can jam. I was trying to write a song and now you’re noodling all over me. You know what? I’ll just put it down.” Later, when I started making music professionally, I met all these extraordinary musicians, and I thought: Why would I play guitar when I’m not as good as you are? Then I really hated doing shows.

Because of that?
I’m not a dancer — I don’t want to be a pop star and do dance moves. I don’t have a big Adele voice. And standing up there and just singing — I was like, I should be at a poetry reading. So I made myself a promise that if I made another record I would have to play guitar and write songs that I can play.

It’s funny: You were both super locked-in during the songs, but then between them your banter was extremely loose.
I wanted to build a show that was a concert I would want to go see. I’m weird — I don’t love concerts, but I do I like it when people talk. I can hear the record at home — what I don’t get at home is a sense of the person.

Who would you say are some of music’s great between-song talkers?
Hmm.

I think Adele might be the best I’ve seen.
She’s really good. I saw her once when I was younger — I had a year where my dad took me to see all the biggest women of that year. I remember thinking: When I leave the theater, I’m filled only with joy and no jealousy because I could never do what she’s doing. That’s a gift from God, and I’m not in competition with that gift.

But after she hits you with that, she’ll just freestyle for three or four minutes.
That’s what I want too — I want to see some humanity, especially these days when everybody is being force-fed so much perfection and so much unattainable grace.

There are a tremendous number of words on this record.
It’s very verbose.

Why?
I love words — lyrics are my favorite part of songs. One of the first songs that got written for this record was “Devil You Know,” which was like an experiment where I wrote this poem in free verse. I’ve been in a fight with my husband about free verse versus poetic form. He’s pro-free-verse, I’m anti-free-verse.

What’s your beef?
My beef is: Free verse is great — I wish you could have spent a little more time making it rhythmically sound.

To you it feels like —
Like a first draft. The confines of a structure make your brain work in a different way: How do I get this idea across in a sonnet or a villanelle? But I tried writing this free verse thing, and I really liked it and wanted to write more things like that. Normally, I love the arrow of a Willie Nelson lyric, which is: What’s the simplest way I can say the most complicated thing? And I have some of that on this record, like in “Bring Home My Man.” But I also was like, What’s the most complicated way I can say the simplest thing?

OK, speaking of that: I read the essay you had this philosopher Justin Smith-Ruiu write about the album. I understood probably 11% of it.
I’m obsessed with him. I read his Substack religiously — it’s called the Hinternet. He’s just a brilliant genius, and I was like, I don’t know what he’s gonna say, and I don’t know if it’ll make sense to anyone, but it’ll make sense to me.

Honestly, some of the songs might also have gone over my head. How important is it to you that the listener grasps everything that’s going on in your music?
Zero percent important. I want people to take from it what they take from it. One of the coolest things in my life has been putting out songs and having people form crazy personal attachments — sometimes communal attachments, where all the people think it’s about the same thing and they’re all wrong. That’s so much more interesting to me than if they just thought it was exactly what I thought it was.

How do you listen to the songs you love? Are you trying to figure out where they came from?
Yes, but I don’t care if I’m right. I’ve had many a debate about what [Elliott Smith’s] “Say Yes” is about — gone through the lyrics with friends and been like, “Wouldn’t you say that this supports my theory?” But it doesn’t matter to me what it is. It’s just fun to try to connect all the dots.

Maya Hawke and Christian Lee Hutson in New York in March.

(Ilya S. Savenok / Getty Images for Tibet House US)

Break down the chronology of your and Christian’s relationship. You made this record not as married people but —
As engaged people.

How did that compare to the previous album?
When we made “Chaos Angel” we were maybe in a slightly uncanny valley of being friends who were in love but not together at all. But our working dynamic has always been pretty amazing, even from when we met doing “Moss.” Christian was really the person who made me want to play guitar and write music. He was like, “What do you mean your music isn’t good enough? Why, because you didn’t go to jazz school? I didn’t go to jazz school.” That kind of belief really shaped my journey from “Moss” until this record.

Are you the type of person who needs a facilitator?
I really enjoy support and encouragement, and I often need permission.

I wonder why.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I was talking to someone, and I was like, I want to spend less time with this person, but I want them to want to spend less time with me. I don’t want to be the one to draw the boundary — I need their permission to draw a boundary between us. My therapist was like, “We can work on that.”

Is this classic child-actor people-pleasing stuff?
I wasn’t a child actor.

When did you start?
I did my first audition at 15 but I didn’t get the part. Then I didn’t end up working until I was 18.

I’d argue that at 18 the world still sees you —
As a young person, yeah.

But I take your point.
I don’t know what it has to do with. It’s not exactly people-pleasing. There’s definitely an oldest-sibling thing I have a bit. I’m very interested in sibling-order theory. I think it’s extremely influential to who people are — better than astrology, for sure.

You’re older?
I’m oldest of five. Generally, when I meet eldest siblings, there’s a kind of interesting energy of someone who both needs to be in charge and needs a lot of permission.

Has anything changed about the way you and Christian collaborate since you got married?
We’re really happy, and we’ve been really happy. It’s awesome that we were friends for a long time first. When I got into relationships in the past, I would kind of pick the person that liked me the least. I didn’t like myself very much, and I thought that someone who didn’t like me must be a genius and that I could overcome my inherent ineptitude by getting them to like me. And in order to get them to like me, I would transform myself into becoming a person that they would like. Then we’d have a very happy couple of months until I got bored of not being myself. What being friends with someone first did was that it made it very hard to trick them.

Some of these new songs seem very clearly to be about the two of you.
Totally. A lot of this record is about how much I learned about what love really is — what it could be and how to be good to another person. My ideas about those things really transformed in the last couple of years.

As a child of divorce, were you ambivalent about marriage?
I think if anything it was the reverse. I wanted to get married twice in my life. Once was when I was 18 years old, and it was definitely mental illness: I want the nuclear family that I didn’t have, and I want it now. Then I was kind of neutral on whether or not I would get married. Then I met Christian, and I was like, “I don’t know if I’m ready to be in this kind of relationship, but you’re my person.” And we stayed in each other’s lives until it ended up being the right time.

Plenty of people find their person without wanting to have a wedding.
Are you a romantic?

I’m not sure I know.
When I was younger, I imagined myself in a sort of French marriage where we both cheated on each other but didn’t talk about it and had a lot of mutual respect. But I didn’t find a French marriage — I found my best friend. You know what a piece of s— I am and you still love me? I wake up every morning still happy to see you? That’s a miracle — we gotta have a party.

Last thing: Did finishing “Stranger Things,” which had defined the structure of your life for so long — did that change the way you think about making music?
It’s changed the way I think about everything. Basically, from about four months before the show wrapped until a year after that, I was pretty freaked out.

Because you knew a big change was coming?
Because I didn’t know how I would be reborn out of it. Even when I was resentful of being like, “I’m booked, and I can’t do this other thing that I want to do,” the show was so grounding. I was really lost without it. I’m not freaked out about it anymore, but I’m in a renegotiation of the structure of what I want my life to look like.

Do you feel some kinship with your former castmates on that?
Everyone freaked out in different amounts and at different times and to different degrees of wanting to talk about it. But we all collectively had a very, very intense time moving through the last season.

You’ve got upcoming acting projects —
I didn’t actually die like I thought I was going to.

But did the end of that job create space for music to play a bigger role in your life?
In some ways, it could become smaller. I had an ensemble part in a show that takes a year to film, which creates a tremendous amount of waiting-around time. I think that’s why so many “Stranger Things” actors have musical projects: You can’t film anything else but you can sit in your house with your keyboard. What I’ve really been feeling since the show ended was an invigorated desire to double down on acting. I’ll never not make music, but the music industry is difficult for me. I don’t know if it’s just that I was raised in the acting industry and I understand the things that are f— up about it better.

The music biz feels more opaque to you?
I struggle with some of the things that one should do in that industry to grow their project. When you’re promoting a movie, you’re on a team promoting an external item. When you promote a record, you’re doing self-promotion: “Buy my stuff. Do my thing. Put me on your chest.” It feels a little too “Look at me,” which isn’t my comfort zone.

Better start making those TikToks.
Yeah, I can’t. I really can’t.

The Sparks signed guard Kate Martin to a developmental player contract Sunday just hours before their first game of the season. About 45 minutes before tipoff, Martin arrived in Los Angeles.

“It’s been chaotic, but honestly, found a lot of clarity, a lot of confidence, and where I’m at and where the future of my career is heading,” she said. “So honestly, kind of all over the place, but feeling really good and having a lot of clarity right now.”

Martin was a surprising end-of-training camp cut for the Golden State Valkyries after she averaged 6.2 points per game in 42 contests last season. But Golden State was deep at the wing position, making Martin expendable with its other positional needs.

Speaking publicly for the first time since being cut, she was emotional, but excited for the opportunity with the Sparks.

“I chose L.A. because of the way they approached me,” she said. “I just feel honored for the opportunity. And opportunities don’t always come around in this league. And so for the year that I got cut to be the year where there are development spots, I feel very grateful for that.”

The Sparks had one developmental spot left after signing Louisville graduate Laura Ziegler during training camp.

Martin will be available to be on the active roster for 12 games, while receiving a weekly stipend of $750 in addition to a pro-rated minimum salary of $6,000. She has the most experience of any player signed to a developmental contract across the league with two full seasons under her belt.

“(Martin is) great in the locker room, great teammate, super hard worker,” said Las Vegas Aces coach Becky Hammon, who coached Martin in her rookie season. “She’s somebody who came in with pro habits and a lot of times from college, that’s hard to do, but she came in and was a nice piece for us.”

The 25-year-old was a fan favorite with the Valkyries and had the third highest-selling jersey in the WNBA last season despite coming off the bench for Golden State.

Martin first went viral during the 2024 draft when she was selected 18th overall by Las Vegas and was in the room to support her Iowa teammate, Caitlin Clark. She averaged 2.6 points per game in 34 games as a rookie with the Aces before being selected by the Valkyries in the expansion draft in December 2025.

“Now my expectations for myself are to buy into being an L.A. Spark,” Martin said. “I know that roles are ever changing throughout the season, but right now, I’m gonna be where my feet are, and I’m going to buy into this role as a development player. I’m going to learn, I’m going to grow, and I’m just going to make the most of this opportunity.”

It’s unclear how much Martin will play with the Sparks, but she might have a path because they lack wing depth. The Sparks are backcourt heavy, then have three bigs in Nneka Ogwumike, Cameron Brink and Dearica Hamby. Rae Burrell and Sania Feagin fill that role, but Martin could bring a three-point shot and energy off the bench.

“It’s a great fit for us,” Sparks coach Lynne Roberts said. “Thrilled how that worked out. It’s no secret, I love shooters. I think it’s a great add. And I think this gives her a chance in the developmental spot to just kind of settle and really pour into the player development. Her work ethic is unbelievable.”

I walked around a street fair in Irvine over the weekend, checking out the crowd while waiting for my daughter’s dance team to perform. We were a few short miles from Angel Stadium, but you wouldn’t have known it: lots of people wearing Dodgers caps, someone wearing a Shohei Ohtani cap, someone else wearing an Ohtani jersey, someone else wearing a Clayton Kershaw jersey, a dog wearing a Dodgers bandana, and people repping the Padres, Giants, Athletics and Yankees.

After 25 minutes, someone walked by in an Angels cap.

If the passion wanes, apathy can set in. I wondered if that is where the Angels might find themselves now, with a slice of their fan base finding a more enjoyable way to spend its summers than watching one losing season after another, and with the shadow of baseball’s best team extending ever more securely into Orange County.

Something else happened over the weekend that made me wonder. On the heels of a winless road trip, and on the day before the Angels would claim the worst record in the major leagues, Angels general manager Perry Minasian said this to reporters: “Our best baseball is in front of us. There’s no doubt about that.”

No doubt?

Angels general manager Perry Minasian declined to predict in the team would make the playoffs this season.

(Elsa Garrison / Getty Images)

On the Angels’ broadcast the previous night, reporter Erica Weston presented play-by-play announcer Wayne Randazzo with a birthday gift: a figurine of Grogu, a character in the Star Wars family. Randazzo said he would keep Grogu in the broadcast booth, as a good luck charm for the Angels.

“We certainly could use one,” Randazzo said.

Minasian, the sixth-year general manager, has yet to deliver a team that finished better than 17 games out of first place. On Wednesday, I asked him to explain why he was so confident in saying he had “no doubt” the team’s best days were ahead.

“We’ve been very competitive,” Minasian said. “Our wins and losses aren’t where we want them to be, but we have lost a lot of one-run games, a lot of tough games.”

The Angels have lost six one-run games. So have the Yankees, the team with the best record in the American League.

The Angels’ run differential is minus-14. They are four games behind in the AL West, where the first-place Athletics have a .500 record and a minus-21 run differential. You never know.

So far, however, the Angels’ offense is all about the three true outcomes: They strike out the most of any major league team and rank among the top six in walks and home runs, but they do not rank among the top 10 in runs. Only five teams have given up more runs.

“Going to the bullpen has been a harbinger of danger for the Angels,” Randazzo told viewers. The Angels’ bullpen entered Wednesday with a 5.35 earned-run average, the highest in the AL.

Owner Arte Moreno cut payroll this year, amid the implosion of the FanDuel regional sports networks. Edwin Díaz was not walking through the bullpen door.

Angels owner Arte Moreno.

(Ashley Landis / Associated Press)

But the Dodgers find solid bullpen arms in ways beyond buying them: Evan Phillips was cast off by the Baltimore Orioles during a 110-loss season; Alex Vesia was acquired from the Miami Marlins after putting up an 18.69 ERA in his first five major league games.

“We’ve had guys like that,” Minasian said.

He cited Brock Burke, a waiver claim who gave the Angels two solid seasons in middle relief. Minasian traded him last winter for outfielder Josh Lowe, and any general manager would trade a middle reliever for a middle-of-the-order bat. To this point, Lowe has a .198 on-base percentage and a .287 slugging percentage.

Lowe is but a data point in illustrating this primary point: Minasian’s margin for error is smaller than it otherwise would have been if Moreno had not withdrawn from the market for top-tier free agents or had approved trading Ohtani for elite prospects that would have accelerated rebuilding. Smaller, but other teams do more with less.

“We’ve got to be able to develop our own players,” Minasian said.

On the day Minasian said he had “no doubt” better days were ahead for his team, the Angels, their triple-A affiliate and their double-A affiliate all were in last place.

Analysts perennially rank the Angels’ farm system among baseball’s worst. Minasian said he’ll put his faith in four homegrown starters: José Soriano, Reid Detmers, Jack Kochanowicz and Walbert Ureña. Their combined ERA so far: 2.99.

“When you look at good teams and sustainable winners, they build rotations, whether that’s through trades or free agency or your own,” Minasian said. “We’re doing it with our own. You can’t microwave that overnight.”

You can’t make fans wait forever for October either. Angels fans have heard enough about building a competitive team and needing patience.

They have not seen their team in a playoff game in 12 years. When are they going to see that?

Angels pitcher Walbert Ureña delivers against the New York Mets at Angel Stadium on May 1.

(Luke Hales / Getty Images)

“I’m not in the prediction business,” said Minasian, whose contract expires after this season. “They’re going to see a team that plays hard every day. They’re going to see young, talented players day in and day out.”

That’s fine, but when are they going to see a winning team?

“The proof will be in the pudding,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what I say. I could say all these things. At the end of the day, we’re going to go play 162 games. We’ll see where we end up and who’s done what, and we’ll go from there.”

On Wednesday, the Angels won a series for the first time since April 12. They’re 3-2 with Grogu in the broadcast booth.

The schedule gets more challenging: a trip to Toronto and Cleveland, then back to the Big A to play the Dodgers. The same distant Angel Stadium seat available on the resale market for Wednesday’s game for $5 (fees included) is available for $103 for the opener of the Dodgers series.

Orange County loves a winner. There was a long line at that Irvine street fair to collect souvenirs from one booth — the one for the Anaheim Ducks.

The Southern Section will hold its four track and field prelims on Saturday at four high schools, but lots of focus will take place at the Division 3 meet at Yorba Linda.

Servite, with its outstanding sprinters, and Sherman Oaks Notre Dame, with sprinters, hurdlers and shotputters, will be trying to qualify their best athletes in preparation to battle it out at the Southern Section championships on May 16 at Moorpark High.

“We’re trying to qualify but also build upon all our races,” Servite coach Brandon Thomas said.

Servite looks finally healthy. Robert Gardner, a sprinter who was hurt all season, ran 10.87 seconds last week in the 100 meters in his comeback race. He’ll be one of four Servite athletes trying to qualify in the 100. Another previously injured athlete, Jaelen Hunter, has also returned and will be in the 400.

Notre Dame’s Brayden Borquez recovered from his spill at the Arcadia Invitational to win the 110 hurdles last week at the Mission League finals. JJ Harel, the defending state champion in the high jump, is also gearing up to score points in the long jump and triple jump.

Outside Yorba Linda, opponents of transgender track athlete AB Hernandez competing for Jurupa Valley are planning to hold a news conference to protest her participation.

Other finals will be held at Trabuco Hills (Division 1), Ontario (Division 2) and Carpinteria (Division 4).

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email eric.sondheimer@latimes.com.

Welcome back to the Times of Troy newsletter, where the spring sports calendar is quickly coming to a close at USC. Saturday saw a trio of Trojan teams upended in the NCAA tournament. The women’s beach volleyball team fell in a brutal quarterfinal shutout by No. 5 Florida State. Men’s volleyball faltered in the second round to No. 3 Hawaii, and the men’s tennis team was shut out 4-0 by No. 9 Oklahoma.

But at USC, there’s a lot of excitement about what’s coming next. The year ahead is a critical one, and not just for Lincoln Riley and the football program. Eric Musselman enters Year 3 with no tournament invites to date, but the most talent he’s had yet as USC’s men’s basketball coach, while the women’s basketball program could be more talented next season than it has ever been.

That abundance of star power has made for a much different offseason for Lindsay Gottlieb this spring. At this time last year, the women’s basketball coach was scrambling to put pieces together in the transfer portal after JuJu Watkins’ knee injury derailed the Trojans’ plans of a title run. The vibes …. were not great. Two promising young guards, Avery Howell and Kayleigh Heckel, left. Some potential transfers who hoped to play with Watkins went elsewhere. All setting up for an up-and-down season.

But with Watkins set to return to full-go this summer and a trio of five-star prospects set to join her, Gottlieb entered this offseason facing polar opposite circumstances. Watkins is set to retake her throne as the most dominant player in women’s college basketball. Jazzy Davidson, already the national freshman of the year, should only get better as a sophomore. And Saniyah Hall, the nation’s top recruit in 2026, would be the best player on most college basketball teams. She may only be the Trojans’ No. 3 next season.

So when Gottlieb set out to survey the transfer portal this spring, she wanted to take a much more selective, intentional approach to building out an already-stacked roster.

“We wanted players that fit,” Gottlieb said. “It takes the person to have the courage to understand that they can really contribute with these really talented players that we have. And also a humility to know that we’re trying to win a national championship, so you’ve got to [be] confident and believe in your abilities. But it can’t necessarily be where they want something crafted around them only, you know? Because we’re trying to win a national championship.”

Pania Davis with Florida State last season.

(Gary McCullough / Associated Press)

She wanted more size, to split time with five-star freshman Sara Okeke at center and found 6-foot-6 center Pania Davis, a towering rim protector who played last season at Florida State.

“We were studying the best bigs that fit us, and 6-6 just jumps out at you,” Gottlieb said. “The way she moves we were really excited about.”

Gottlieb also set out to add an experienced guard in the portal after nearly all of USC’s backcourt depth departed in the offseason and landed on one that she’d known since her first year as the Trojans’ coach.

Gottlieb met Ryann Bennett at a camp during that first season, and when she became available last month after two seasons at UC Davis, her skills just happened to fit USC’s needs perfectly.

“She’s just a really good all-around player,” Gottlieb said. “She can create and pass. She plays some point guard. I don’t think she’s going to be afraid of taking or making a big shot.”

USC could add another player or two in the portal from here, Gottlieb said, but she also doesn’t want to upset the balance that she has right now, on a roster that should already be among the best in the nation.

The question now isn’t so much who USC adds, but how Gottlieb will manage the needs of a roster full of star players. Though, she scoffs at any concern that there’s only one ball to be shared among USC’s star-studded group.

“There’s one ball for South Carolina. There’s one ball for LSU. There’s one for UCLA,” Gottlieb said. “We’ve gotta play in a way that values winning. I don’t think it should take away anyone’s individual skills. But the priority has to be playing the best possible basketball.”

A joyous title run

USC women’s water polo players celebrate after defeating California for the NCAA title last month.

(Derrick Tuskan / NCAA)

The first season that Casey Moon took over USC’s water polo program, he freely admits that “I fell on my face.”

The Trojans lost in the NCAA tournament quarterfinals of the 2024 season, their worst finish in decades. And in the weeks that followed, Moon tried to step back and reevaluate what he wanted to be as a head coach. He had no choice but to be away from the pool, which was under construction all summer.

“The thing that kept coming up,” Moon says, “is this aspect of joy.”

Two years later, Moon has USC water polo back on top again, winners of their seventh national title. He and his players say “joy” is the reason why.

“We’re really unserious, and I think it helped us a lot this year,” said goalkeeper Anna King, who had a career-high 14 saves in the national title win. “We’re trying jokes the whole time. 
We’re just, like, making fun of each other. We keep it light.”

Maggie Johnson, a senior attacker, points to a moment between the third and fourth quarters of USC’s narrow title win over California.

“We are up by one, and they zoom in on our huddle, and we’re all just dancing,” Johnson said. “And I think that just encapsulates, like, what our team is.”

—The NCAA is primed to change its eligibility rules in a big way. The new rules would eliminate the notion of “redshirts” or eligibility waivers — and hopefully stop the cascade of legal challenges — by giving athletes five years to play, with only few exceptions. Eligibility issues have been a disaster as of late for the NCAA, and president Charlie Baker said last week that he’s “pretty optimistic” that the changes will pass when a vote happens later this month. Lincoln Riley has said in the past that he favors the five-year rule, though it’s been a while since we asked.

—The Big Ten distributed a record $1.7 billion in 2024-25, USC’s first year in the league. That was a 55% increase from the previous year, before USC, UCLA, Washington and Oregon joined and the most money ever distributed by a college football conference. And from that pile of conference cash, USC should bring in somewhere between $76 million and $80 million. That’s nearly three times as much as the school got in its last year of the Pac-12. In case you needed reminding why USC left.

—USC lost a key member of its football front office. Zaire Turner came with general manager Chad Bowden in 2025 to be the Trojans’ new director of recruiting operations and played a key part in putting together the nation’s No. 1 class in 2026. Now, after a year, Turner, a Dallas native, is off to Southern Methodist where she’ll be senior director of recruiting.

—USC baseball notched its second straight Big Ten sweep. That brings the Trojans to 37-12 on the season, which still leaves them within striking distance of second place in the Big Ten with one conference series — and two overall — remaining in the regular season. With five more wins out of their seven remaining games, the Trojans would lock up their best regular season in a quarter century.

—A shout-out to USC women’s golf, who I unfortunately overlooked in last week’s newsletter, even after they’d won the school’s first Big Ten title and 10th conference title overall. And not just that, sophomore Jasmine Koo won the individual Big Ten title. She was already the winningest player in USC women’s golf history, but added her most distinguished honor yet by becoming the school’s eighth individual conference champion.

What I’m watching this week

Oscar Isaac as Josh Martin, Carey Mulligan as Lindsay Crane-Martin in “Beef.”

(COURTESY OF NETFLIX)

When its first season debuted on Netflix in 2023, there weren’t many shows out there that could build anxiety-inducing tension quite like “Beef.” And I’m happy to report that it’s still got it.

Season 1, which starred Ali Wong and Steven Yeun, centered on a road-rage dispute that escalated out of control. Season 2 has a totally new story, even better actors — Oscar Isaac and Carey Mulligan are the couple at the center of the beef — and even higher stakes. This time, a younger couple played by Charles Melton and Cailee Spaeny witness Isaac and Mulligan, who run the country club they work at, get into a raging fight, the optics of which don’t look so great.

This problem maybe could’ve been solved with a little communication. But judging by the name of the show, you can probably guess which direction it went.

In case you missed it

More March Madness: NCAA basketball tournaments reportedly set to expand to 76 teams

Until next time …

That concludes today’s newsletter. If you have any feedback, ideas for improvement or things you’d like to see, email me at ryan.kartje@latimes.com, and follow me on X at @Ryan_Kartje. To get this newsletter in your inbox, click here.