When David Lynch moved from Philadelphia to Los Angeles in the summer of 1970, he was stunned by the sunshine that radiated onto the city — the “most beautiful light I’d ever seen in my life,” he wrote with Kristine McKenna in his 2018 memoir “Room to Dream.” In that book, he described his first morning walking out of an apartment on San Vicente Boulevard.
David Lynch in 2016.
(Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
“I kept kind of moving around with my arms outstretched and I almost got hit by a car wandering into the street,” he wrote.
That light — and Los Angeles itself — continued to inspire and energize the filmmaker and artist throughout his five-plus decades of calling L.A. home, until his death last year at the age of 78. In “Room to Dream,” he wrote about the “magical street” of Mulholland Drive and all its twists and turns: “It’s really got a history, and if you’re in Los Angeles long enough you start hearing stories about things that have happened on it that get your mind going.” In an interview with the Filmographers, he told the story of how his character in “Twin Peaks” was a name plucked from Billy Wilder’s “Sunset Boulevard,” which very well may have been inspired by Wilder’s commute to Paramount that passed the Hollywood streets Gordon and Cole. And the dissolve from Naomi Watts’ face in “Mulholland Drive” to rows of palm trees has become a classic shot for representing his work and his love for the city, hopeful and drenched in his beloved sunlight.
Much like L.A., the artistic legacy of Lynch is difficult to encapsulate — trying to describe his work is like attempting to explain a dream. His films so strongly defied categorization that they necessitated an eponymous term: Lynchian.
The Hollywood Sign, as seen from Beachwood Drive. (Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
Palm trees, which Lynch often used as a symbol in his films, tower above the city. (David McNew / Getty Images)
Unsettling to many, beloved by more, he refused to explain his work, allowing and challenging his audience to parse through it and imbue their own meanings and discoveries. The reward, for him, was in the doing, in taking a daydream and forming it into an idea that he could shape into something real in the world, blending the mundane and the macabre.
Here are some places around L.A. that offer a glimpse into Lynch’s world.
Note: the Lynch compound and all other residential locations mentioned are all private residences, and not to be disturbed.
Classic diners, especially Bob’s Big Boy Burbank
Lynch would often to go to Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank to meet with creative collaborators, or simply sit and think
(Jill Connelly / For The Times)
Lynch was fond of the straightforwardness of a diner, and he considered them to be ideal for creative thinking and work meetings. In his book “Catching the Big Fish,” he said: “I’d have a milkshake and sit and think. There’s a safety in thinking in a diner. You can have your coffee or your milkshake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner.”
One of the most viscerally terrifying scenes of “Mulholland Drive” takes place behind the dumpster at the abandoned Caesar’s diner in Gardena. And he liked having meals with his family at what is now the Denny’s in Gower Gulch, a place where aspiring cowboy actors once congregated. But the most significant diner in Lynch’s legacy is Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank. He spoke of going to Bob’s almost every day from the mid-’70s until the early ’80s. In an interview with Charlie Rose, Lynch claimed he saw a man at the counter who inspired the Frank Booth character in “Blue Velvet.”
Signs of Lynch at Bob’s Big Boy: His headshot displayed alongside actors Kyle MacLachlan and Laura Dern; a milkshake at the counter.(Stephanie Breijo / Los Angeles Times)
Lynch’s order included a chocolate milkshake and coffee, the cold sugar and caffeine fueling his ideas. He believed 2:30 p.m. was the perfect time to order the milkshake, specifically ”after the lunch rush when the machine had enough time to chill, the silver goblet would be frosted when it arrives at the table, and the ice cream is almost like butter, like cold butter, it’s almost solid, and it has specks of chocolate in it, and it almost gets a frost on it when it arrives,” he said in a conversation with the Filmosophers.
Today there is a framed photo of Lynch over the door of the Burbank location, indicating that his love for the restaurant was mutual. After his death, Bob’s became the de facto location for fans needing to pay homage to the beloved director, piled high with tributes of cigarettes, cans of Coke, donuts, slices of pie and tear-stained letters of gratitude.
Franklin Canyon Park
Leaves illuminated by sunlight under a canopy of trees in Franklin Canyon.
(Blake Fagan / For The Times)
Franklin Canyon Park was once a summer retreat for the Doheny family, who built a Spanish-style home at the base of the canyon in the 1930s. The 605 acres were purchased by the National Park Service in 1981.
A frame overlooks the water in Franklin Canyon, which stood in for many interstitial woodsy scenes in “Twin Peaks.”
(Blake Fagan / For The Times)
The mysterious woods are an essential element in Lynch’s world of “Twin Peaks.” While the pilot for the TV drama and the film prequel “Fire Walk With Me” were filmed in Washington (and there’s lots of scenic footage from the Pacific Northwest throughout the series), much of the show was filmed on Southern California soundstages. And for the many interstitial scenes in the woods, Franklin Canyon and its lush forest stood in. Lynch and co-creator Mark Frost opened an esoteric window to prime-time viewers with the concept of the Black Lodge. The filming location of its entrance, known as Glastonbury Grove in the show, is in Franklin Canyon Park.
Doheny landmarks
In an interview with Charlie Rose, Lynch stated that “everybody is a detective and the unknown is a magnet.” He invited his audiences to look at a door and investigate what lurks behind it. This philosophy ties to his connections with an L.A. legacy, one that contains its own mysteries and contrasts: the Doheny family and its historic properties:
The Doheny Mansion
Glimpses of the Doheny Mansion, clockwise from left: the music room; a stained glass sky light; a sculpture adorns a table in the Pompeian Room.(Blake Fagan / For The Times)
The sprawling and opulent Doheny Mansion, now part of the Mt. St. Mary’s campus, was built in 1899 by architects Theodore Eisen and Sumner Hunt. Patriarch and oil baron Ed Doheny and wife Estelle acquired the home in 1901 and the Doheny family made it their home for nearly 60 years. Lynch used the mansion as the home for Laura Dern’s character in his 2006 film “Inland Empire,” and also filmed an Armani commercial there in the 1990s.
Greystone Mansion
The central courtyard at the Greystone Mansion.
(Blake Fagan / For The Times)
In the 1970s, Lynch was a fellow at the newly founded American Film Institute, based at Greystone Mansion at the time. He eventually took over the mansion’s stables, converting them into a production studio and occasionally (and illegally) living there while he filmed his debut feature, “Eraserhead.” He slept in the room that became the bedroom for the character Henry. “I’d lock myself in there in such a way that from the outside it looked as if no one could possibly be inside,” Lynch said in Mark Altman’s 1990 book “Twin Peaks: Behind The Scenes.” “We’d put these special blankets up on the walls to deaden the sound for shooting and it was quiet.”
Scenes from the Greystone Mansion.(Blake Fagan / For The Times)
Greystone Mansion carried an air of secrecy in itself. Built in 1928 by Gordon Kaufmann, and a gift from Edward Doheny to his son Ned and his family, the stately Tudor Revival was home to a horrific tragedy. Months after moving in, Ned and his lifelong friend and personal secretary, Hugh Plunkett, were found in a guest bedroom, victims of a murder-suicide. While their motives were never defined for certain, the accepted belief was the tragedy was tied to their involvement in the Teapot Dome political corruption scandal and Plunkett’s looming testimony that could’ve implicated the Dohenys.
The city of Beverly Hills purchased the grand manor in 1965 and installed an underground reservoir, and leased the property to the newly formed American Film Institute in 1969 for $1 a year, with the agreement that the school would maintain the property. Greystone was dedicated as a public park in 1971 and is now listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
L.A.’s Transcendental Meditation centers
After moving to Los Angeles, Lynch started visiting the Spiritual Regeneration Movement Center in Santa Monica and it altered his life. Here he learned the methods of Transcendental Meditation, developed by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, with the focus of seeking enlightenment. His first meditation session was July 1, 1973, and from there, he practiced twice a day, every single day.
“Before I started meditating I worried that doing it would make me lose my edge, and I didn’t want to lose the fire to make stuff,” Lynch wrote in “Room to Dream.” “I found out it gives you more fire to make stuff and more happiness in the doing and way more of an edge. People think anger is an edge, but anger is a weakness that poisons you and the environment around you.”
Lynch became a staunch devotee of Transcendental Meditation and spoke about the positive effects he believed it could have for everyone, particularly veterans, those suffering from PTSD and women who have survived violence. He started the David Lynch Foundation for Consciousness-Based Education and World Peace in 2005 to offer children throughout the world the opportunity to learn to meditate. The foundation recommends several Transcendental Meditation centers in Los Angeles, including the center on Hillhurst Avenue in Los Feliz.
The Pink House, David Lynch’s compound in Hollywood Hills and his final resting place at Hollywood Forever
The historic Tower Theater, built in 1927, was converted into the Apple Tower Theatre.
(Mel Melcon / Los Angeles Times)
On screen, Lynch loved the old glamour of Los Angeles — the majestic Tower Theater in downtown Los Angeles was used in “Mulholland Drive,” “Inland Empire” and “Twin Peaks: The Return.” His characters lived in equally memorable spaces, with the women of “Mulholland Drive” going from the grandeur of the Il Borghese apartments (architect Charles Gault, 1929) to meet tragic endings in the fairy-tale-esque “Snow White” apartments (architect Ben Sherwood, 1931) that are believed to have also inspired Walt Disney. (It’s worth noting that this theater has been refurbished into an Apple store. A beautiful achievement of preservation work, but it’s hard not to see the consumer-driven sleekness and think about a theme in Lynch’s work: the terrors lurking inside a changing America.)
Personally, Lynch loved modern architecture, and experienced love at first sight with the home he purchased in the mid-’80s in the Hollywood Hills. The Pink House, as Lynch referred to it, was designed by Lloyd Wright Jr. for writer Beverly Johnson in 1963. Lynch commissioned Eric Wright (Lloyd’s son and Frank Lloyd Wright’s grandson) to add a pool and pool house in 1991. He told the Wall Street Journal that he preferred Lloyd Wright’s work over his father’s, explaining, “Lloyd Wright is more minimal. More pure. But just as beautiful.”
The house is semi-secluded against a lush hill, beneath the actual Mulholland Drive, and has a subtle chevron pattern detail that runs throughout the house, similar to the floor of the “Twin Peaks” red room. Lynch loved this house and spent much of his time in Los Angeles here, particularly in his later years. He gradually added two neighboring properties to form what would become the Lynch compound.
A “Twin Peaks” coffee cup that was gifted to David Lynch by a fan.
(Chris Pizzello / Invision / AP)
When filming began on “Lost Highway,” he struggled to find the right location for the home of the lead characters, Fred and Renee Madison. This set piece would be crucial to building their sense of dread. Lynch then had an idea: He would use the Brutalist structure in his compound. He transformed the interior and altered the exterior windows, making it difficult for the characters to see the dangers circling outside. “Some people open windows of houses, but I like interiors and don’t care about windows,” Lynch wrote in “Room to Dream.” “I like to go deeper into a house and find things underneath things.”
For the next two decades, the compound was Lynch’s dream space where he could create anything he imagined, including his 2000s-era daily weather reports for local radio stations and his website, a hobby he revived during 2020. Homebound the last few years because of emphysema, he was forced to relocate during the Sunset fire in January 2025, and died shortly after. David Lynch’s final resting place is at Hollywood Forever, across from the Fairbanks Lawn where movies are shown, under the stars.
I’m confident that I’ll make my way through The Times’ best breakfast burrito list and devour another couple dozen worthy candidates before I’ll ever have the chance to ride on that chronically delayed LAX people mover.
“Ninety-nine percent done”? Sounds like the answer my kids would give me the night before a big homework assignment was due.
Maybe our next breakfast burrito list can be “Best breakfast burritos near John Wayne Airport.” Or Hollywood Burbank. Or Long Beach. The possibilities are endless. No doubt we have got time until that “one percent” gets checked off.
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times, host of the Envelope newsletter, and the guy pondering a “DTF Los Angeles” where the characters inch along the LAX horseshoe, kindling all manner of sinister thoughts.
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Cover story: ‘DTF St. Louis’
(Erik Carter / For The Times)
Are TV viewers a little more judgmental when it comes to complicated women?
Linda Cardellini would always know where someone was on their “DTF St. Louis” viewing journey based on their vibe when they approached her.
“If they were halfway through the show, they usually weren’t warming up to Carol and you could feel that energy,” Cardellini says, talking with me for a recent Envelope cover story on the limited series. “But if they were through with the show, that energy changed. Sometimes you could tell they felt bad that they didn’t like her in the first place.”
Carol, as you know if you’ve watched “DTF,” the season’s best limited series, is an overworked suburban mother forced to umpire Little League games because her job at Purina doesn’t pay enough to cover the bills. She’s married to gentle giant Floyd (David Harbour), an ASL interpreter and a sensitive stepfather to her son. But it’s a sexless marriage, so she turns to local weatherman Clark (Jason Bateman), who possesses a vitality long absent in her husband.
“DTF St. Louis” is ostensibly a murder mystery. Floyd dies in the first episode. Writer-director Steven Conrad employs a fair bit of misdirection, pointing our suspicions first to Clark and then to Carol. Since money is tight and Floyd had an insurance policy, Carol is a logical enough person of interest. We learn that she has a criminal record. And she was cheating.
“When I was reading the episodes, I thought, ‘Oh, OK. It’s going to be Carol, even though there’s so many clues telling you that it’s not her,” Cardellini says. “But we’re conditioned to think that. Like, ‘She had to be after the money,’ even though she never accepts any gifts as she’s struggling financially. Everyone just believed the worst in her.”
Granted, Carol could be a little brusque with service workers, and her passive-aggressive approach to police questioning (“Can you speak up?”) was a master class in control and manipulation that I plan to use if I’m ever interrogated for some crime I’m sure I did not do. (Unless it’s somehow related to picking someone up at LAX. Then all bets are off.)
Reviews for “DTF” too often would note how it’s a poignant look at male loneliness in the suburbs when, in fact, Carol is the most isolated character on the show.
“Carol is immensely lonely, but she’s so burdened by the heavy demand of keeping this household afloat that she doesn’t have the luxury to notice that she doesn’t have a friend,” says Conrad. “The job of bailing water is hers alone.”
In that respect, Carol brings to mind Skyler White on “Breaking Bad” and Carmela Soprano from “The Sopranos,” forlorn women dealing with the man-child they married and getting flak from viewers for being a killjoy.
By the end of “DTF,” we find we should have been on Carol’s side all along.
“It’s a beautiful magic trick,” says co-star Bateman.
Just the latest feat of illusion from the talented Cardellini, one that could result in her first Emmy win next month.
The last time I ate at McDonald’s was also the first time I tried a McGriddle.
Why am I thinking about a breakfast sandwich? Well, it’s morning, for starters. And my old friend Laurie Ochoa, who runs all things food at The Times, just had her own first encounter with a McGriddle, inspired by the item’s mention in the most recent season of “The Bear.”
Should McDonald’s have a Michelin star? “The Bear’s” pastry chef Luca thinks so. Laurie is a fan too. Me? Honestly, I ordered it by accident, hangry and delusional after driving too many miles on a road trip home. To this day, whenever my son, Sean, passes that Lost Hills McDonald’s, he snaps a picture and sends it to me, captioning it: “McGriddle?”
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. Does Rhea Seehorn dig McGriddles? She loves bread, so maybe the whole pancake-bun thing would put her off.
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Cover story: Rhea Seehorn
(Ian Spanier / For The Times)
If you love great television, you know Seehorn from “Better Call Saul” and the new Apple TV series “Pluribus,” where she plays Carol, a sad woman forced to save the world from happiness and the hive mind.
But other than those two classics and a guest turn on the final season of “Veep,” I have not Seehorn in anything else. Which wasn’t for a lack of trying on her part, as I learned from talking with her for a recent Envelope cover story.
Seehorn moved to Los Angeles in 2003 after landing a lead role on the ABC sitcom “I’m With Her.” Seehorn played … well, I’ll let her describe the character.
“I was the naysaying, coattail-riding, bitchy, alcoholic little sister of Teri Polo’s character,” Seehorn says, laughing. “It was so much fun.”
The comedy ran for 23 episodes and was then summarily canceled, despite the season finale drawing about 11 million viewers. (“Can you imagine?” Seehorn says of the ratings. “You’d be a juggernaut now.”)
When she arrived in L.A., ABC put her up at the massive Oakwood apartment complex on Barham Boulevard, an (in)famous landing place for child actors, musicians and newcomers like Seehorn getting their start in Hollywood. On her way to work each day — she walked to the Warner Bros. lot because she didn’t have a car — Seehorn would pass older men wearing short bathrobes at 7 in the morning and “momagers” hustling their kids to an audition.
Says Seehorn: “It’s weird because you’ve landed a great job and you’re working, so, ‘Yay!’ But also, you’re staying in a one-room apartment that has a kitchenette and a Murphy bed that folds into the wall. When the bed’s folded down, it touches the couch and you can’t walk around. But when the bed is up, it’s a mirror, so you watch yourself have no friends, sitting there watching TV, eating a TV dinner. Then you’re like, is it less depressing to just sit in a bed all day, or should I watch myself sitting here?”
Needless to say, Seehorn moved as soon possible, landing in a fourplex apartment across from the Warner Bros. lot near the Taco Bell and Don Cuco on Riverside Drive. It was heaven. It had a second bedroom. And a window!
She lived there until the second season of “Better Call Saul.”
“The good news is, when you move to L.A. from New York, everything seems like a mansion,” Seehorn says, laughing.
Sitting on that Murphy bed at the Oakwood, was there ever a time when Seehorn wondered, “What am I doing?”
“I had come from supposedly being the receptionist at a construction office in Brooklyn, but what I was really doing was cleaning their bathrooms with like nine pairs of rubber gloves on because it was so disgusting,” Seehorn says. “That was my day job, and then I was working at Playwrights Horizons, a wonderful theater that I’d always wanted to work at, so I was thrilled. But theater doesn’t pay enough to live on. So life was always cobbling something together to pursue my passion, my dream.”
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. My birthday’s still a few months away. Is it OK if I have a slice of this cake, anyway? Maybe the Television Academy can send it to the Emmy nominees who are no longer invited to the ceremony this year.
Read on for more …
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Awards show adaptation or mere party foul?
What if you were invited to a party and then nine days later that invitation is rescinded? A party in your honor, no less, or at least one where you are among the honorees. How would you feel? Would you be tempted to take that birthday cake I just mentioned and smash it into the face of your host?
Maybe I’ve watched the pie fight in “Blazing Saddles” one too many times. (Happy 100th birthday, Mel Brooks!) Still, if I were among the Emmy nominees in the five categories that the Television Academy shuttled off the Primetime Emmy Awards to the untelevised Creative Arts Emmy Awards, I might be reaching for some baked goods and taking aim.
The five categories excised from the show include four from the limited series/movie group — supporting actor and actress, writing and directing. (Variety series writing was also cut.) When I wrote a few weeks ago that the limited series boom had gone bust, it wasn’t my intention that the TV Academy remove more than half of the categories from the show. It could have just been a down year, people! Television was pretty meh across the board the last 12 months. Why pick on one division?
In doing so, the Television Academy effectively disenfranchised HBO’s “DTF St. Louis,” the best limited series of the season, from the ceremony. Steven Conrad’s dark comedy about suburban loneliness earned 13 nominations, including supporting acting nods for each member of its stellar ensemble — Jason Bateman, David Harbour, Linda Cardellini, Richard Jenkins and Joy Sunday. Conrad was nominated for three — writing, directing and producing the series.
But now only Harbour, Bateman and Conrad will receive tickets to the show as executive producers of the nominated series. The other actors can attend the Creative Arts Emmys, held the weekend before the Primetime Emmys. And of course, HBO will be happy to buy them tickets if they want to go to the televised ceremony too.
The question is: Will they and other nominees, which include the likes of Nick Offerman (“Death by Lightning”), Charles Melton (“Beef”) and Dakota Fanning (“All Her Fault”), want to get dressed up two weekends in a row? (First-world problems, I know.)
“It really did manifest as a disinvite for all these people,” says one awards consultant who, like other sources for this story, requested anonymity in order to speak candidly about the move. “Had the Television Academy done it before nominations came out, then at least people’s expectations would have been managed. But now it’s sort of like you got invited to the party and now you can’t come. It’s not a very nice feeling.”
“Beef” star Charles Melton’s category, supporting actor in a limited series or TV movie, will be presented at the untelevised Creative Arts Emmys the weekend before the Primetime Emmys ceremony.
(Netflix)
Why did the TV Academy wait to shift the categories until after the nominations were announced? Why focus on limited series and not, say, spread the cuts across drama and comedy categories too? Are these changes permanent?
I asked these questions to the Television Academy and the answers were, basically: We announced as soon as possible. We’re going to sidestep that second query. And we’ll see how it goes!
What this comes down to is a desire to create a show that, in the words of a TV Academy spokesperson, is “driven by the need to innovate while delivering a three-hour broadcast, keeping audience expectations and the creative structure of the ceremony in mind.”
Translation: fewer awards, fewer speeches, more throwback segments that have a chance to go viral and get people talking.
The Oscars tried this in 2022, moving eight categories off the telecast, handing them out before the broadcast began. Members hated the idea and order was restored the following year with all 23 awards being presented during the live telecast. (In 2019, when the motion picture academy announced a similar move, saying that four categories would be handed out during commercial breaks, the blowback was so fierce that the decision was almost immediately reversed.)
Emmy ratings were up 8% last year, the highest since 2021. An average of 7.42 million viewers watched. Not NFL numbers, but a continued indication that the audience level for major awards ceremonies has stabilized after steep declines during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Still, there is a feeling among some that awards shows need to adapt and pick up the pace in a time when viewers’ attention spans have shortened. Is there an appetite for a three-hour ceremony when you can simply watch the highlights the next day on social media platforms?
“If people don’t want to see actors winning awards, then the days of televised awards shows should just be over,” gripes another Emmy consultant.
One thing that might be over — or at least greatly diminished — will be submissions for the supporting acting categories for limited series/movie next year if the academy makes this revision permanent.
“I think everyone will be going lead,” one network executive joked, “even if they have just five minutes an episode.”
Ted Lasso star Waddingham’s character is a secret assassin called Judith, who is forced to reveal her identity to her best friend, Debbie (Octavia Spencer).
Also working in Judith’s organisation is Sam, who is in charge of assigning her tasks and tracking her whereabouts, which is easier said than done.
Sam faces many challenges throughout the series as he also has a close bond with Queenie (Savannah Steyn) – the daughter of one of Judith’s oldest acquaintances.
Here is all you need to know about the star behind Sam and where you would have seen him before.
Who plays Sam in Ride or Die?
Sam is played by Calam Lynch, a 31-year-old British actor with a very famous Irish family.
He was born in Warwickshire to Irish actors Niamh Cusack and Finbar Lynch and studied classics at Oxford University, graduating in 2017.
Initially interested in football, he did not discover a passion for acting until speaking to his cousin, the actor Max Irons.
He went on to star in stage productions during his time at university and landed a role in the war film Dunkirk during his final year.
What else has Calam Lynch been in?
Fans will kick themselves when they realise where they have seen Lynch before, as he starred in one of Netflix’s biggest shows.
He played Eloise Bridgerton’s (Claudia Jessie) love interest, Theo Sharpe, in the second season of Bridgerton.
Theo was working at the print shop when Eloise came looking for information about Lady Whistledown, as she’d figured out his shop was where her pamphlets were being printed.
He denied knowing anything, but the pair shared some sweet moments as Eloise kept returning to the shop.
Sadly, Eloise put an end to it all when she said she did not want Theo to face consequences for her actions.
Away from Bridgerton, the star has also had main roles in Sweetpea, Miss Austen and Outrageous.
Former NFL running back Chris Johnson has issued a challenge to his family, friends and fans — one that could quite literally send a chill down the spine of those who remember a certain viral trend from more than a decade ago.
A quick refresher: A social media sensation went viral in 2014, involving people posting videos of themselves having a bucket of ice water poured over their heads and challenging others, by name, to do the same.
The trend was often referred to as the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge because many folks used the videos to raise awareness for and funding to help fight the degenerative neurological disorder amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, commonly known as ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease.
Johnson, a three-time Pro Bowl selection who holds the NFL record for most yards from scrimmage in a single season, on Tuesday revealed on “Good Morning America” that he has been diagnosed with ALS. Soon after, former Utah basketball player and sports content creator Hunter Mecum posted a video on Instagram in which he dumped a large bowl of ice water on himself in Johnson’s honor.
That video inspired Johnson to bring the movement back.
“Man… the love y’all have shown me these last few days really [means] more than you know. Me and my family appreciate every prayer, message and every bit of support,” Johnson wrote on Wednesday on Instagram.
“After seeing @huntermecum video, I’m asking y’all to help me with something. Let’s bring back the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. Grab a bucket, challenge 3 people and if you can, donate to help fund ALS research.”
Johnson included a link in his bio to a fundraiser for ALS research set up in his honor. As of Thursday morning, it had raised more than $32,000.
The retired player known as CJ2K also called on three people to accept the ice bucket challenge — ex-Tennessee Titans teammate LenDale White and fellow former NFL greats Marshawn Lynch and Adam “Pacman” Jones.
So far, White and Lynch have accepted Johnson’s challenge. Lynch, the former star running back for the Seattle Seahawks and Oakland Raiders, obliged by getting hailed on by a bucket of ice.
White, who was Johnson’s “Smash and Dash” counterpart in the Titans backfield, took the traditional ice water route and nominated former NFL players Deion Sanders, Vince Young and Michael Sims-Walker, who was on hand at the time and accepted the challenge in a separate video.
Johnson also posted a video of his daughter Honey Love taking the challenge, with White handling the ice-bucket duty. She nominated her brothers and former Lakers superstar LeBron James.
James hasn’t yet responded, but he was one of the many celebrities who took part in the original challenge 12 years ago. Others included Kobe Bryant (who submerged himself in an ice tub), Shaquille O’Neal (who humorously poured one drop of water on his head) and Donald Trump (who joked he was nominated because “they want to see whether or not it’s my real hair, which it is”).
Did Ben Kingsley in “Gandhi” cross your mind? Probably not.
The 82-year-old Oscar winner thinks it should.
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. Don Logan or Mahatma Gandhi? The answer isn’t as plain as you might think.
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Not long ago, I spoke with Kingsley just before an Emmy FYC event for “Wonder Man,” the enjoyable new Marvel TV series that finds him revisiting Trevor Slattery, the washed-up, drug-addled actor he first played in 2013’s “Iron Man 3.”
“Wonder Man” follows struggling actor Simon Williams (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), trying to land a big break in Hollywood while keeping his superpowers hidden. Trevor befriends Simon. Initially he has ulterior motives, but soon becomes Simon’s mentor, turning the series into a look at the indignities that actors face while pursuing their profession.
Taking notes while watching the show’s eight episodes, I wrote, “Ben Kingsley’s seething anger is everything.”
You may remember Kingsley’s bullying and badgering and swaggering menace playing the underworld sociopath in Jonathan Glazer’s 2000 crime-thriller “Sexy Beast,” still my favorite Kingsley performance, one that earned him a supporting actor Oscar nomination. (He lost to Jim Broadbent in “Iris.”)
Is that kind of boiling rage as fun to play as it is to watch?
“If the expression of rage or indignation is completely dramatically justified and that expression of indignation is of enormous benefit to the tribe, yes,” Kingsley answers.
(Larsen&Talbert / For The Times)
Kingsley says Itzhak Stern, Oskar Schindler’s loyal aide and factory manager in “Schindler’s List,” was, “bless him,” all about “contained rage.”
“And a colleague of mine who saw ‘Gandhi’ said, ‘That’s the angriest performance I’ve ever seen on screen,’” Kingsley continues. “That righteous indignation propelled him, and it can be expressed in many ways. Sometimes the safety valve is efficient enough to allow it to come through language and gesture, and sometimes the safety valve can’t hold it.
“That was Don Logan in ‘Sexy Beast.’ No safety valve.”
Let’s circle back to that thought of how rage can help the “tribe.” In “Wonder Man,” Trevor proclaims that “acting is not a job. It’s a calling, the single most consequential thing anyone could ever do with their life.”
“I would broaden the definition and refine it back to its origins,” Kingsley says when I ask if he shares Trevor’s view on acting. “There are images, thoughts and threads that I find nourishing and sustaining, and I treasure them. The tribal storyteller is a very consequential figure in the tribe, and if the mantle of the tribal storyteller falls upon that person’s shoulders, that is the single most consequential thing that person can do in their lives.”
“Trevor expresses it quite differently, and that’s fine,” Kingsley says. “That’s in the script. I honor the lines. But for me personally, as a rather convoluted answer, the tribal storyteller is the hand I hold and the baton I want passed on to me. Maybe it has. I hope I’m worthy, but it’s …” Kingsley widens his eyes and whispers, “Wow.”
“It is the single most consequential thing I can do with my life.”
There are more than 100 Emmy categories, and if you scroll through each and every one of them on the Television Academy’s website, you’re probably one of those people who read the terms and conditions on a document before signing your name.
This hasn’t been the greatest year for television, which has had the converse effect of prompting me to sample more shows than ever in a quest to unearth that one hidden gem that merits a place on my mock Emmy ballot. Truth be told, I’m still looking. I’m sure I’ve missed something. And I’m sure you’ll let me know.
In the meantime, here are my picks for the top 15 categories — five each for comedy, drama and limited series — along with a brief line of reasoning for each. And if it’s predictions you’re after, you can find our full BuzzMeter panel’s choices here. Emmy nominations will be announced July 8.
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Comedy series
“Abbott Elementary” “The Bear” “The Comeback” “Hacks” “The Lowdown” “Margo’s Got Money Troubles” “The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins” “Shrinking”
Sterlin Harjo’s “The Lowdown” feels like it’s on the same trajectory as his last series, “Reservation Dogs,” an under-the-radar charmer that grows in estimation as its audience builds. Noir crime stories don’t come more delightful.
Comedy actress
Quinta Brunson, “Abbott Elementary” Rose Byrne, “Platonic” Ayo Edebiri, “The Bear” Elle Fanning, “Margo’s Got Money Troubles” Lisa Kudrow, “The Comeback” Jean Smart, “Hacks”
“Platonic” heightened the chaos and conflict in its second season, affording the gifted Byrne additional room to flex her comic chops. How do you sleep on a show starring a newly minted Oscar nominee?
Comedy actor
Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, “Wonder Man” Ethan Hawke, “The Lowdown” Tracy Morgan, “The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins” Jason Segel, “Shrinking” Martin Short, “Only Murders in the Building” Jeremy Allen White, “The Bear”
Morgan acting oblivious is one of the funniest things ever.
Comedy supporting actress
Hannah Einbinder, “Hacks” Janelle James, “Abbott Elementary” Ashley Padilla, “Saturday Night Live” Michelle Pfeiffer, “Margo’s Got Money Troubles” Sheryl Lee Ralph, “Abbott Elementary” Jeanne Tripplehorn, “The Lowdown” Jessica Williams, “Shrinking”
The Padilla Pause is one reason I’m watching “Saturday Night Live” again.
Comedy supporting actor
Harrison Ford, “Shrinking” Marcello Hernández, “Saturday Night Live” Ben Kingsley, “Wonder Man” Ebon Moss-Bachrach, “The Bear” Nick Offerman, “Margo’s Got Money Troubles” Stephen Root, “Widow’s Bay” Tyler James Williams, “Abbott Elementary”
Hernández’s charisma and physical comedy is another.
Drama series
“Industry” “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” “The Night Manager” “Paradise” “The Pitt” “Pluribus” “Slow Horses” “Task”
How many Emmy voters finally caught up on “Industry,” the fast-paced drama about a group of cutthroat Gen Zers? Four seasons in, it’s more addictive than ever.
Drama actress
Caitriona Balfe, “Outlander” Myha’la, “Industry” Chase Infiniti, “The Testaments” Michelle Pfeiffer, “The Madison” Rhea Seehorn, “Pluribus” Zendaya, “Euphoria”
Now that “Outlander” is over, it’s time to pour one out for Balfe. Over the course of eight seasons, she hopscotched through time, enduring and overcoming numerous assaults and kidnappings, dealing with grief and trauma and enjoying lots of emotionally grounded sex. Balfe has earned a final reward.
Drama actor
Sterling K. Brown, “Paradise” Peter Claffey, “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” Tom Hiddleston, “The Night Manager” Gary Oldman, “Slow Horses” Mark Ruffalo, “Task” Noah Wyle, “The Pitt”
Claffey turned bumbling into art.
Drama supporting actress
Isa Briones, “The Pitt” Taylor Dearden, “The Pitt” Fiona Dourif, “The Pitt” Supriya Ganesh, “The Pitt” Katherine LaNasa, “The Pitt” Sepideh Moafi, “The Pitt” Karolina Wydra, “Pluribus”
LaNasa should have bumped herself up to lead. As Whitaker explains to Langdon in Season 2’s penultimate episode, Robby’s the Professor of the ER and LaNasa’s Dana is the Skipper. And the Skipper should be lead.
Drama supporting actor
Patrick Ball, “The Pitt” Diego Calva, “The Night Manager” Shawn Hatosy, “The Pitt” Gerran Howell, “The Pitt” Ken Leung, “Industry” Tom Pelphrey, “Task” Carlos-Manuel Vesga, “Pluribus”
Pelphrey has called his desperate single dad on “Task” the role of a lifetime. No argument here.
Limited series
“Bait” “Beef” “DTF St. Louis” “Death by Lightning” “Half Man”
I put off watching the finale of the punishing “Half Man” for weeks. Does that mean the show worked?
Limited series/TV movie actress
Sally Field, “Remarkably Bright Creatures” Camila Morrone, “Something Very Bad Is Going to Happen” Carey Mulligan, “Beef” Sarah Pidgeon, “Love Story” Robin Wright, “The Girlfriend”
Riz Ahmed, “Bait” Charlie Hunnam, “Monster: The Ed Gein Story” Matthew Macfadyen, “Death by Lightning” Mitchell Robertson, “Half Man” Michael Shannon, “Death by Lightning”
The young actors on “Half Man” — Robertson and Stuart Campbell — outshone their well-known counterparts.
Limited series/TV movie supporting actress
Linda Cardellini, “DTF St. Louis” Grace Gummer, “Love Story” Laurie Metcalf, “Monster: The Ed Gein Story” Cailee Spaeny, “Beef” Joy Sunday, “DTF St. Louis” Constance Zimmer, “Love Story”
Both Cardellini and Sunday for “DTF St. Louis”? No way, José, you say? Yes way, I say. All the way!
Limited series/TV movie supporting actor
(Larry Horricks / Netflix)
Jason Bateman, “DTF St. Louis” Stuart Campbell, “Half Man” Richard Gadd, “Half Man” David Harbour, “DTF St. Louis” Charles Melton, “Beef” Nick Offerman, “Death by Lightning”
The mutton-chopped Chester A. Arthur joins Ron Swanson’s ’stache in television’s facial hair hall of fame.
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That Super Bowl in question was Super Bowl LIX, pitting the Philadelphia Eagles against the Kansas City Chiefs. Melton hosted a watch party, and since he considers Kansas home and played football for Kansas State University, you might think he’d be rooting for the Chiefs.
Nope.
“When I was living in Germany, I fell in love with Donovan McNabb,” Melton, an army brat, tells me, name-checking the longtime Eagles quarterback.
Spaeny, it turns out, was the only Chiefs fan at the party. To enter Melton’s home, she had to step on a doormat that was fitted with a red-and-white Chiefs jersey. (“It got real dirty,” Melton says with pride.)
Melton and Spaeny enjoy a relaxed and playful give-and-take, borne from the months they spent preparing to play Austin and Ashley, a Gen-Z couple working at a Montecito country club, dreaming and scheming toward upward mobility in “Beef.”
(Erik Carter / For The Times)
The most memorable episode they shared found the couple in an overcrowded, ninth-circle-of-hell emergency room with Ashley, uninsured, experiencing severe ovarian torsion. Her concerns are dismissed and she begs for someone to save her.
“Unfortunately, it’s an all-too-common experience,” Spaeny says. “I probably have a conversation once a month with female friends who go to the doctor’s office and are gaslit by the system, just being made to feel like what they’re experiencing isn’t really happening or they’re making it up. It’s scary.”
Still, being “Beef,” the episode has its share of mordant humor, like the scene where a nurse asks Ashley to rate her pain, zero being pain-free and 10 being excruciating.
“Oh, I thought it was like Letterboxd,” Ashley replies, referring to the movie review social platform. “Two-and-a-half stars out of five is average.”
“My whole life I’ve been a six or seven,” Melton says, noting his own personal pain scale. “I’ll have a cold and I’ll be like, ‘Six or seven.’”
“That sounds like you,” Spaeny says.
“I can get pretty dramatic,” Melton says. “It’s really like the end of the world when I’m sick.”
Spaeny deleted her Letterboxd account because she gets anxious about anything online containing reviews.
“It takes two buttons to click on a movie that I’ve been in and see what people say about me,” Spaeny says. “So I forgot my password and left it that way.”
Melton is an enthusiastic adopter and says he has twice shared his four favorite films, a feature where actors, usually on the red carpet, list a quartet of beloved movies. (Here’s one at the “May December” premiere where Melton enthuses over “The Matrix,” “In the Mood for Love,” “Brokeback Mountain” and “Persona.”)
“I saw them at another event and they were like, ‘Charles, so good to see you.’ And I was like, ‘Do you want my four favorite films?’ And they said, ‘No, you’ve already done it enough,’” Melton laughs. “What can I say? I love movies!”
What was the moment from the season finale of “The Pitt” that finally broke you?
Was it the shot of the day-shift staff watching the Fourth of July fireworks from the hospital roof, the sound of “America the Beautiful” playing in the distance? Maybe it was Dr. Al-Hashimi (Sepideh Moafi) crying in her car, realizing she can’t work around the seizure disorder that makes her a liability in the ER. Or perhaps it came when Noah Wyle’s Dr. Robinavitch (a.k.a. Dr. Robby) swaddled Baby Jane Doe, telling her that “everything’s gonna be just fine,” because she has “so many wonderful things to see and so many people to love.”
But what opened the floodgates for me, after the last half-hour of the episode left me completely dazed and dumbfounded, was Drs. Santos (Isa Briones) and King (Taylor Dearden) exorcising the day’s demons by belting out Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” at a karaoke bar and demonstrating that primal scream therapy is alive and well three decades into the 21st century.
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Which is all to say: “The Pitt” is the only television show I’ve watched that gives me the same feeling I have when I read a great, immersive novel. When the end is near, I’m bereft. I’m Al-Hashimi in her car, wanting to pound the dashboard. I do not want to let these characters go. They’ve given me 15 hours and I still crave more. I would devour a series of short films about odd couple Santos and Whitaker (Gerran Howell) sharing an apartment or a summer spinoff showing Dr. Abbot (Shawn Hatosy) working off-hours as a SWAT medic. Anything to fill the long, “Pitt”-less weeks between seasons.
“The Pitt” won five Emmys from 13 nominations, including best drama series, for its celebrated first season, a 15-episode run that began with Dr. Robby up on the hospital roof talking down Dr. Abbot after an intense shift. The season ended with Dr. Abbot returning the favor after Robby and his staff ground their way through a day that included a mass shooting, a child drowning and a patient assaulting LaNasa’s no-nonsense charge nurse.
How do you follow that?
For a few episodes this new season, it looked like “The Pitt” wasn’t up to the task. We watched the ER staff dealing with a series of bloody, messy (the disimpaction!) medical maladies, an avert-your-eyes spectacle that felt like the writers were trying to one-up themselves and find the worst possible affliction to make viewers double over. Worse, the thrill of discovery that kept us invested throughout the first season, the slow drip of information about the characters, wasn’t quite there. Something was missing, and it wasn’t just Dr. Robby’s motorcycle helmet.
But the luxury of having 15 episodes is that the writers can take their time laying the groundwork for the story they want to tell.
And what a story it was.
Over the course of the season, we watched Dr. Robby disintegrate, his mental health more precarious than ever because he has done nothing to address his apparent PTSD. “You need help,” Dr. Langdon (Patrick Ball) tells Robby, confronting him in the finale. “Be honest with yourself.”
Robby isn’t the only one struggling, as Dr. Abbot puts it, to “dance through the darkness.” Langdon is back, managing his sobriety. Dr. Mohan (Supriya Ganesh) is having panic attacks. Santos is still dealing with self-harm. Dana remains haunted by that Season 1 patient assault and now carries a syringe containing a heavy sedative just in case somebody emerging from that overcrowded waiting room crosses the line again.
“I’ve seen so many people die that I feel like it’s leaching something from my soul,” Robby says. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m drowning every day.”
And there you have it, the subject of Season 2 of “The Pitt.” Medical professionals are gasping for air, and the American healthcare system, with its focus on profit above all else, is failing them and the patients they treat.
Remember Orlando, the patient with severe diabetic ketoacidosis who arrives at the ER after fainting? Orlando had to ration his insulin because he lacked insurance and felt he had to cut corners. He ends up leaving the hospital early, fearing the cost of treatment. Later he returns, having fallen (jumped) from a catwalk at his construction job, fracturing his skull. But good news: He now qualifies for Medicare and Medicaid due to long-term disability.
It’s a tragedy, one of many reasons the season finale shot of the ER staff holding back tears as they watched the Fourth of July fireworks felt like a body blow. “America the Beautiful”? How can that be true when the current administration is seeking $1.5 trillion for defense spending — nearly 50% more than this year — while cutting healthcare and social safety nets? How can that be true when an act known as the “Big, Beautiful Bill” removed funding from an already frayed healthcare system and exacerbated the shortage of care in rural areas of the country?
That one scene, the culmination of hours of careful, patient storytelling, said more about the disconnect between American ideals and America’s reality than anything else I’ve read or watched this year.
Give “The Pitt” all the Emmys. It has more than earned them.
Maybe you can use a laugh this morning. Maybe you’re still deep in your feelings, thinking about the “Hacks” series finale and that shot of Hannah Einbinder looking at Jean Smart on the dance floor, grief seeping into her eyes. Maybe you’re lamenting the chaos at our treasured national parks. Hell … maybe you took out a loan to buy a tomato over the weekend.
If you’re feeling down, Gary Oldman would like a word. And that word is: Hufflepuff.
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter, back in your inbox for the next few weeks as we navigate our way through Emmy season.
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Digital cover story: The world according to Gary
(Jennifer McCord / For The Times)
Gary Oldman is a Hufflepuff.
Never mind that the 68-year-old actor, who played the rebellious, impulsive wizard Sirius Black in the Harry Potter film franchise, couldn’t tell you the difference between a Hufflepuff and, say, a Gryffindor.
When journalist Josh Horowitz reads a list of core personality qualities — loyalty, hard work, patience, fairness, dedication — and asks Oldman if that describes him, he nods his head.
You’re a Hufflepuff.
“I’m a Hufflepuff?” Oldman says, trying the word on for size. He likes it. “I’m a Hufflepuff!”
This video clip is a favorite of mine, one I could watch on a loop for the sheer delight Oldman takes in pronouncing the word Hufflepuff.
It’s easy to see why Oldman takes such pleasure in being a granddad these days, one of the things we talked about at length not long ago for an Envelope digital cover story. He can access his silly side with ease.
I asked Oldman about the upcoming HBO “Harry Potter” television series, a decade-spanning endeavor that will spend a season adapting each of J.K. Rowling’s seven fantasy books.
“I’ve seen a trailer for it, and I think it’s a great idea,” Oldman says. “They’re doing the whole book, which I love, because there were a lot of wonderful things, fabric and character detail, we had to lose for the sake of telling the story in two hours.”
Would Oldman be keen to don a distressed velvet overcoat again and participate in the reboot?
“I don’t think they want any of us from the movies contaminating or muddying the waters,” Oldman says, pleasantly. “Besides, I’m too old.”
But with AI, is anyone too old now? Oldman could drop into “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” and look like he hasn’t aged a day since the movie was released 22 years ago.
“I don’t know where we’re going with it because it seems to advance every week,” Oldman says. He ponders the advances made since Martin Scorsese used digital deaging in his 2019 film “The Irishman.”
“I think that was the least successful thing about it,” Oldman says of the technology, “and I’ve been a huge Martin Scorsese fan forever. Ultimately, I don’t know why they wanted to make [Robert] De Niro’s eyes blue.” He pauses, considering the change and why it bothered him. “I guess it’s a blue-eyed Irishman. If I had one negative takeaway, it would be that.”
Oldman prefers directors like Christopher Nolan, whom he worked with on the “Dark Knight” movies and “Oppenheimer,” who think technology should be used sparingly to enhance the storytelling.
“Otherwise it leaves me a bit cold,” he says. “You’re just looking at ones and zeroes.”
“I don’t want to be replaced entirely,” Oldman continues, shaking his head. “I don’t think anyone does.”