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Bob Blumenfield would like to see Angelenos’ old banana peels and moldy bread stay local.

On Tuesday morning, the City Council member told a small crowd of waste advocates in front of city hall that he was introducing a motion to reduce the city’s greenhouse gas emissions by strengthening local composting infrastructure and decreasing reliance on distant facilities.

Currently, when city residents separate their food waste and yard clippings, chances are it’s being trucked to faraway processing facilities in Bakersfield or Lancaster.

The motion would help the city meet targets set by California’s Short-Lived Climate Pollutant Reduction Strategy, or Senate Bill 1383, which phases out sending green waste to the landfill, because it is a major source of the powerful climate pollutant methane.

It also would help meet Mayor Bass’ Climate Action Plan, which aims to use at least 50% of locally produced compost and mulch within Los Angeles by 2030. Currently, only 25% to 30% of the city’s material is applied to land locally.

The city produces approximately 350,000 tons of organic material a year, Blumenfield told the crowd, which he said equates to roughly 1.2 to 1.5 million metric tons of carbon dioxide.

“That’s a big number, and when you do the math,” he said, that’s roughly the same amount of carbon dioxide released by the entire country of Belize, the entirety of Humboldt County or the equivalent of burning 1.6 billion pounds of coal per year.

As the announcement was underway, in the background a fire burned for a sixth day in a Boyle Heights warehouse, where 85 million pounds of frozen food was thawing and beginning to rot.

Signed into law in 2016, the state’s composting bill mandated a gradual increase in the amount of organic waste that must be diverted away from landfills. It required 50% of all green and food waste be diverted by 2020; by 2025, that number was supposed to hit 75%.

But it hasn’t. Although Los Angeles has pushed to get a residential curbside bin program in place — recall the “Great Green Bin Apocalypse of 2025” — it has struggled to get people to comply.

According to reports for the recycLA program, a commercial and multifamily waste collection franchise program, only about half of households and business are separating their compostable waste.

Alex Helou, assistant general manager of L.A. Sanitation & Environment, provided a much brighter picture of the city’s food waste situation. L.A. is the first major city to provide green bins to 750,000 residential customers, he said. The city has “exceeded expectations” in food recovery, he said, saving 80 million meals that would have been thrown out and redirecting them to people in need.

Helou said Blumenfield’s motion completes the loop by keeping food waste close to home, creating more local composting and reducing greenhouse gas emissions from transporting waste outside of the city. It doesn’t directly affect the city’s compliance with SB 1383, but that isn’t necessary, he said. “We’re meeting that and exceeding that at multiple fronts.”

Blumenfield’s initiative directs the Bureau of Sanitation to develop a plan for expanding local composting across the city. It would also increase the use of locally produced compost and mulch.

For instance, the motion would encourage using the compost on urban farms and at community gardens and city parks. It also would be used to replace artificial grass and turf.

It will support a “citywide transition away from artificial turf and towards nature-based solutions, such as California native plants and natural grass plant fields, and ensure everyone has access to safer, cooler, and sustainable parks, schools, and communities,” said Terry Saucier, a Tarzana resident and member of the Neighborhood Council Sustainability Alliance and the Tarzana Neighborhood Council.

The state’s composting law has proved challenging on several fronts.

The Antelope Valley has become a dumping site for many of the city’s haulers looking to cut transport and facility costs — causing concern among environmentalists and others who say the material is destroying fragile ecosystems.

Complying has been particularly difficult for Los Angeles and much of coastal Southern California, where there are few large composters and low demand for compost. Unlike areas to the north, there is little agricultural demand for compost and mulch.

Experts say dumping in the desert has always been a problem, but the law made it worse by making it more expensive and difficult to deal with.

In addition, composters are struggling with the amount of plastic and other debris that people and businesses put in the food waste bins.

According to a report by Closed Loop Partners, which partners with companies such as Pepsico and McDonald’s, nearly 4% of food waste is contaminated with other materials — most of it plastic. State law requires that finished compost contains no more than 0.5% by dry weight of physical contaminants.

Two of the biggest box-office standouts of 2026 so far were not made by established studio directors or built on franchise IP.

“Obsession” and “Backrooms” — horror films from internet-native directors in their 20s — have outperformed far more expensive studio releases.

The breakout success of these films has ignited debate across Hollywood about what made these movies so popular, especially among Gen Z moviegoers who haven’t been flocking to cinemas in recent years. Here’s what to know:

The numbers

”Obsession” was directed by 26-year-old Curry Barker, who got his start on YouTube with sketch comedy and horror shorts. Released May 15 by Focus Features, the film was made for just $750,000 but opened to a staggering $17 million and has improved on its debut every weekend since.

“Obsession” set an all-time horror record for the biggest fourth weekend for a film at the domestic box office, raking in $25.4 million. It now ranks as the year’s fifth most popular film, nearing $200 million domestically and roughly $295 million worldwide — ahead of Pixar’s “Hoppers” ($166 million) and Paramount’s “Scream 7” ($121 million), per Box Office Mojo.

“Backrooms,” from 21-year-old Kane Parsons — known on YouTube as Kane Pixels — drew on an online fascination with liminal spaces, leading audiences through an endless run of nearly indistinguishable rooms.

Released May 29 by A24 (known for such acclaimed films as “Moonlight” and Everything Everywhere All at Once”) on a reported $10-million budget, it opened to $81 million and crossed $100 million in under a week.

Within two and a half weeks, it had outgrossed the entire theatrical runs of horror films “Five Nights at Freddy’s 2,” “Smile” and “Scream 7.” It sits as 2026’s eighth-highest-grossing film.

Who is watching?

The audiences are young. In recent weeks, nearly 90% of “Backrooms’” viewers were under 35, with more than half under 25. Over “Obsession’s” first few weekends, 75% of the audience was 17 to 34, which is significant at a time when major studios have struggled to consistently get younger viewers to trek to the multiplex.

Why it’s working

Audiences have clearly latched onto the stories, said Jason Blum of Blumhouse–Atomic Monster, who worked on both films.

“There’s been an audience kind of waiting to get back to the movie theaters, and we in Hollywood really have not landed on what would get them back,” he told The Times in an interview this week.

Blum, who upended horror genre with the “Paranormal Activity” franchise, ties the success of “Backrooms” and “Obsession” to a connection to the directors’ origins.

Because the films were made by creators who speak to younger viewers daily on YouTube, he said, that generation “feels like they’re being spoken to.”

David Gross, an analyst at FranchiseRe, framed it as a new pipeline of talent and material. Creators can build large followings very inexpensively, he said, and their stories arrive further developed — which expedites the development and discovery process. He called internet-based storytelling “another additive source for material for movies.” Blum added that the films’ success could make studios more willing to bet on undiscovered directors who “might not have been considered” before.

Rosie Ramirez, chief marketing officer at Galaxy Theatres, said a young first-wave audience tends to generate buzz. More than a month after “Obsession” was released, she said, the Nevada chain’s four California locations are only now seeing a second wave of moviegoers curious about the hype.

Notably, the rise of these two films has unfolded in the shadow of major releases like Disney’s “Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu,” and Mattel’s “Masters of the Universe,” both of which returned underwhelming numbers in their respective opening weekends.

Is it a trend or an anomaly?

Whether this marks a lasting shift or a fluke is unclear. May crossed $1 billion in box office — with “Backrooms” and “Obsession” doing much of the heavy lifting. Despite the improvement, the box office has yet to full return to pre-pandemic levels, with the summer tracking roughly 3.5% behind summer 2019, said Comscore’s Paul Dergarabedian.

And Dergarabedian questioned how the industry could replicate a success that, in his words, was “authentically and organically created” rather than manufactured: “It just happened,” he said.

Ramirez argued the broader summer slate — franchise tentpoles like “Toy Story 5” alongside some original surprises — points to a healthy box office regardless, a reminder that “it doesn’t always have to be the big summer blockbuster.”

A federal judge on Friday rejected former President Biden’s attempt to block the Trump administration from releasing to a conservative group the recordings that Biden made with a ghostwriter.

U.S. District Judge Dabney Friedrich found that the public interest in the material outweighed whatever privacy rights Biden had.

The recordings were obtained by special counsel Robert Hur in the course of his investigation into whether Biden improperly retained classified documents while a senator and vice president. Republicans in Congress demanded them after Hur declined to file charges against the then-president.

Biden’s Democratic administration refused to turn over the 2017 recordings and transcripts, leading congressional Republicans to hold his attorney general, Merrick Garland, in contempt.

President Trump’s Department of Justice authorized the release of the materials. That led Biden last month to sue to seek to block the release to a staffer at the conservative Heritage Foundation who had formally requested the records.

Biden objected to the release as an invasion of privacy, saying the recordings included him discussing sensitive personal matters such as the death of his older son, Beau Biden. But Friedrich found that the administration redacted that material.

The judge wrote that the materials “contain no mention of highly sensitive topics like illness or death, nor do they mention any non-public persons, including members of Biden’s family.”

Representatives for Biden did not immediately comment but asked Friedrich to bar release of the material while they appeal her decision. The Justice Department did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

Friedrich was nominated by Trump, a Republican, in 2017.

Riccardi writes for the Associated Press.

Cape Fear,” premiering Friday on Apple TV, is a 10-episode limited series remake of a 1991 Martin Scorsese remake of a 1962 film adapted from John D. MacDonald’s 1957 novel “The Executioners,” and as in a game of telephone each subsequent version adds new material and moves a little farther from the original. (The credits to the series, created by Nick Antosca, note all previous sources and screenwriters.) Thirty-four years having passed since the last go-round, we are treated to such modern advances as catfishing, drones, deep fakes, social media and pushy true-crime podcasters.

In each iteration, a family is menaced by a recently released ex-con who blames one or more of them for his incarceration. Antosca fills his extra-long take on the material with complications and inventions; though the series is also chock full of borrowings from and allusions to its predecessors — you can hardly call them Easter eggs, lying there as they do in plain sight. (And sound: Bernard Herrmann and Elmer Bernstein‘s earlier scores share space with Jeff Russo’s new one.)

In every version, the antagonist is a now-charming, now-menacing psychopath named Max Cady (Javier Bardem), memorably played by Robert Mitchum in 1962 and Robert De Niro in 1991. In the novel and movies, Cady was serving time for rape; here it’s for the murder of his wife and unborn child, when new evidence suddenly springs him from prison after 17 years. We are invited to suspect this evidence from the very beginning, though this suspicion will itself become suspect. “Or is it?” is a question you’ll be prompted to ask through the series.

The objects of Cady’s slow-boiling vengeance — seemingly — are married lawyers Tom (Patrick Wilson) and Anna Bowden (Amy Adams), sharing the position previously represented solely by Gregory Peck and Nick Nolte in turn. Anna, who had unsuccessfully represented Cady, ironically works for an Innocence Project-type nonprofit, whose chief, Noa Toussaint (CCH Pounder), is only too delighted to fundraise on the back of Cady’s celebrity. Cady, claiming no hard feelings, insinuates himself into their world, apparently friendly, apparently helpful, so that it’s not always clear what’s sincere and what’s strategy. Is he a wolf in sheep’s clothing, or just a creepy, sometimes violent sheep? (“Killed his wife, didn’t kill his wife,” a minor character will volunteer, “he’s an arrogant bastard either way.”)

There are now two Bowden children in the picture, doubling earlier versions. Natalie (Lily Collias), Anna’s daughter from a previous relationship, is a good girl looking to go just a little bad, who feels unseen by her busy parents. Sad, sullen younger half-brother Zach (Joe Anders), unrecovered from a social media misstep, is acting more strangely than teenage boys usually do.

This is a cat and mouse — or cats and mice — melodrama, with customized stock characters given dark secrets and backstory traumas less as explanation than complication. (Good, bad, whatever, everyone’s got issues.) Cady, who has a prison-acquired brain injury — cue flashback, in black and white, naturally — suffers from headaches and hallucinations, reacting painfully to flashbulbs (a Chekov gun, I wondered?), seeing visions of his dead wife and son, whom he pictures grown. (He is sad about it, whether or not it’s his fault.) And is that masked woman in green he keeps seeing real or imagined?

On a nuts and bolts level, it’s all screwed together tight, even the pieces that stick out at weird angles. (Is there a reason to make Cady an apparently talented chef, other than to demonstrate his knife skills?) The actors fill their parts with feeling. Bardem gets the most, and most extreme attitudes, to play, whether cozying up individually to the Bowdens, threatening a groupie, undergoing a religious conversion, acting normal or being weird. Adams is low-key forceful as his primary opponent. (Tom’s comparatively weak character is underscored by his secret habit of microdosing LSD and a nothingburger flirtation with a colleague.) Collias is impressively real. The dialogue is well-crafted, the Southern atmosphere (Atlanta doubling Savannah, with Savannah here and there standing for itself) suitably oppressive.

Nevertheless, it’s fair to ask whether this story, even with its yards of extra material, could be told in under nine hours? The answer, most assuredly, is yes. And might it be better shorter? It might.

Not that I’ve ever been a fly on the walls of the executive conference or dining or washrooms where such deals are made, but I suspect the length has less to do with artistic necessity than A) the obscure economics of streaming and B) the not unrelated habits of viewers, who, to judge by questions I get asked, abhor a vacuum. A 10-episode series will put off the moment when they have “nothing to watch,” while the streamer gets to keep them in the ecosystem longer. “Cape Fear” is hardly the only series to which this applies. As I imagine the series will do well — mystery with a smattering of horror seems very much what the people want — more may be just the ticket for some people. Still, there’s a sense that the story has expanded to fill the space, with plotlines for all and crazy side trips (snakes! drugs!) in escalating levels of nuttiness.

That might be more feature than bug, but I can’t say I felt much of anything for the characters, or was concerned whether the Bowdens would emerge from their ordeals a stronger family. (Whatever the outcome, I’d say they have work to do.) Having been given only eight of 10 episodes to review, I’m interested, in a disinterested way, how this all will shake out, when the story finally moves to the Cape Fear River, and whatever final twists — that there will be twists, I am certain — an inevitably Action Packed Finale has in store.