Mike

USC has settled a lawsuit with a former high-ranking athletic department official who alleged the university allowed former athletic director Mike Bohn to racially harass and discriminate against her, then fired her when she voiced concerns about Bohn’s behavior.

Joyce Bell Limbrick was the highest-ranking Black and female official in USC’s athletic department when she was fired by the university in September 2023, four months after Bohn resigned amid an internal investigation into his conduct and the culture of the department. Bell Limbrick filed suit early last year, accusing USC of wrongful termination.

That dispute was settled out of court this week. Terms of the settlement were not disclosed.

When reached by The Times, Bell Limbrick declined to comment. Bohn has never publicly addressed the allegations.

While the lawsuit never made it to trial, it nonetheless offered the most detailed account yet of the conduct that led to Bohn’s resignation.

Bell Limbrick filed a Title IX complaint with the university against Bohn in October 2022, after an incident in which she says Bohn punched her on the arm at a USC volleyball match. That complaint ultimately compelled an investigation, during which, according to her complaint, Bell Limbrick told USC officials of “Bohn’s history and rumors of inappropriate and unwanted touching involving … other females at both Cincinnati and USC.”

The university hired an outside law firm that specializes in institutional responses to racial and sexual harassment and discrimination to investigate Bohn five months later. The Times learned of that investigation shortly thereafter, as well as a previous investigation into Bohn’s conduct at Cincinnati, and in May, asked both Bohn and USC about those concerns.

Bohn resigned a day later.

Soon after that, the university fired Bell Limbrick, citing “a pattern of poor performance.” She was the only member of an 11-member executive team to lose her job and, according to the complaint, had just been awarded a “merit increase” on account of her “overall job performance.”

Bell Limbrick worked at USC for nine years, initially as the director of athletic compliance, before Bohn was hired in 2019. Shortly after he became athletic director, Bohn promoted Bell Limbrick to senior woman administrator, one of the highest-ranking positions in the department. According to her complaint, she had been one of the few Black women to hold such a position at a major American university.

“Ms. Bell Limbrick had a thriving career at USC and she loved her work. Then, Mike Bohn arrived,” her attorney, J. Bernard Alexander, said in a statement in 2025.

”[Bohn’s] incessant, racially charged remarks made Joyce feel uncomfortable and undervalued, but more than that — he actively isolated her from the executive team and undermined her work. She already was vulnerable as the only Black woman on the team, and rather than support her, the university allowed Bohn to make her life hell.”

Her complaint detailed inappropriate comments made in front of USC donors and staff, as well as insensitive or discriminatory remarks made in her presence. At the time, The Times spoke with six people with knowledge of the department’s inner workings who largely corroborated her claims about Bohn’s conduct.

Bohn declined to respond to The Times’ questions about his conduct leading the athletic department, but he provided a statement to The Times on the day of his resignation in May 2023 stating he would “always be proud of leading the program out of the most tumultuous times in the history of the profession.”

“In moving on, it is important now that I focus on being present with my treasured family, addressing ongoing health challenges, and reflecting on how I can be impactful in the future,” Bohn said in the statement.

Everyone’s getting into podcasts — even demons.

“undertone,” a muted, personal and static microbudget horror debut by Ian Tuason, takes place in the writer-director’s actual childhood home where he tended to both of his parents before they died. Both hospice and inspiration, it’s a stifling place decorated with floral wallpaper and crucifixes. The pain and exhaustion and grief are so real and oppressive, the camera never dares set a foot outside.

Upstairs, Evy (Nina Kiri), watches over her own terminally ill mother (Michèle Duquet). Tuason funneled his emotional gloom into this movie; Evy co-hosts a horror podcast with her overseas best friend Justin (voiced by Adam DiMarco). “This is the only thing keeping me sane right now,” she says. They’re words she’ll regret within the week.

Kiri and DiMarco have the comfortable, convincing chemistry of two old pals who have done a show for a while. One snippet seems to be an episode on Elisa Lam, the real-life tourist found dead in the rooftop water tank of Los Angeles’ Cecil Hotel. There’s also a reference to a website with a red-faced ghoul who hypnotizes victims into cutting off their ears. The latter may be Tuason seeding his idea for a sequel.

Here the central story is that Justin, who lives in London, has received an email with 10 audio files recorded by a couple named Mike and Jessa (Jeff Yung and Keana Lyn Bastidas) who are trying to understand what she’s saying in her sleep. The sender is unknown. (Possibly an evil spirit hoping for the exposure of a mattress ad?) Justin, the believer, is instantly alarmed by how these eerie tapes escalate from cute banter to ghostly crying babies and backward incantations. Evy is the skeptic who dismisses the noises as either an online hoax or bad plumbing.

Due to the time zone differential, Evy and Justin record their show just before he heads out to work in the morning, which for her is 3 a.m. Most of the movie takes place in that witching-hour window, an airlessly silent time where an at-home podcaster doesn’t worry about being interrupted by a leaf blower, an ice cream truck or a dog. Sound-designed by David Gertsman, “undertone” is so quiet that a tea kettle sounds like a fire alarm. Story-wise, it’s equally inert. One of the biggest action shots in the first hour comes when — eek! — a sink turns on.

I’d love to understand why horror films that I find excruciatingly dull give others the heebie-jeebies. My working theory is that they tap into audiences with a preexisting suspicion that the world is wicked — they prove paranoia to be well-founded. My mental default is that the world is neutral-good, and that may be why I prefer movies with active villains scaring me out of my complacency. I spent “Paranormal Activity” and “Skinamarink” restlessly admiring the production design; here, my main thrill came from the soundscape, like when a vibrating cellphone made my chair rattle like it was a tractor, or a noise that can only be described as death-rattle ASMR.

When Evy slips her on headphones, she’s so focused making sense of the latest scary tape, playing it forward, reversed and slowed-down, that she’s oblivious to the bumps in the night in her own house, upstairs near her comatose mother’s bedroom. I suspect Tuason deeply relates to Evy, to the disassociation of living with death every day, and uses her resistance to explore denial. She refuses to admit that the supernatural is real, even as she repeatedly takes a break to steady herself and, as she puts it, “get back into character.” Her stifled panic makes it obvious that fear is taking over.

The screenplay also has a passing reference to Evy’s useless, off-screen boyfriend Darren (voiced by Ryan Turner). Their miserable dynamic is compelling but overall comes off like a plot point Tuason stuffed in his pocket and never got around to using. Our one peek into it comes when Darren phones Evy to pressure her to ditch her mom and come to a party. He claims he’s throwing a kegger to cheer her up. (A frozen lasagna on the doorstep would be better, dude.)

Evy does reluctantly leave the house — we don’t follow her there — and that one moment says as much about crossed-signals communication as anything else in the movie. It’s bullseye-accurate about how isolating it is to lose a parent earlier than your peers.

The film is so committed to its rigors — the two-person cast, the glacial camera pivots, the moody lighting — that it teeters on the line of becoming monotonous. When Tuason eases up a bit, say in a scene in which Evy pops on a sleep podcast that begins by describing a babbling brook and rapidly becomes a nightmare tale of bobbing corpses, he finally shows you that he has the potential for range.

But “undertone” is rooted in that slow-and-still horror discipline that holds its breath waiting for something to happen. It requires the audience to bring their own bad vibes to shots of religious icons on the wall and long takes of Evy clacking on her laptop, unaware of a flickering light behind her. (Rumor is Tuason has already signed on to shoot the next “Paranormal Activity” sequel.)

Mostly it puts the audience in the position of watching a protagonist so passive that chunks of the running time are watching her sit at a table waiting for Justin to look up things for her on Wikipedia. Like amateur detectives, we learn alongside them as they click around pages about Sumerian devils, Catholic saints and the origin of the nursery rhymes “London Bridge” and “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep.”

As visuals go, “undertone” is so far removed from anything resembling the cinematic experience that I left with a fresh appreciation for campfire storytelling. At least then the listener gets to use their own imagination. But production designer Mercedes Coyle does dig up two satisfyingly creepy props: one, an antique speaking doll, the other, a small white statue that appears to be the Virgin Mary until we get a better look at her mouth, deformed by a hungry scream.

Despite my quibbles with how her character reacts when things really go awry, Kiri’s Evy has a clarity of purpose that holds our attention despite not having that much to do. In her strongest sequence, she and Justin take a few live callers on their podcast, some of whom bear bad news about Mike and Jessa, and another who phones up in the middle of a crisis that’s too big for these self-positioned experts to handle. Real violence is coming and these armchair ghosthunters are totally out of their depth. Yes, everyone is into podcasts. Maybe they shouldn’t be.

WASHINGTON — The late Rev. Jesse Jackson will not lie in honor in the United States Capitol Rotunda after a request for the commemoration was denied by the House Speaker Mike Johnson’s office due to past precedent.

Johnson’s office said it received a request from the family to have Jackson’s remains lie in honor at the Capitol, but the request was denied, because of the precedent that the space is typically reserved for former presidents, the military and select officials.

The civil rights leader died this week at the age of 84. The family and some House Democrats had filed a request for Jackson to be honored at the U.S. Capitol.

Amid the country’s political divisions, there have been flare-ups over who is memorialized at the Capitol with a service to lie in state, or honor, in the Rotunda. During such events, the public is generally allowed to visit the Capitol and pay their respects.

Recent requests had similarly been made, and denied, to honor Charlie Kirk, the slain conservative activist, and former Vice President Dick Cheney.

There is no specific rule about who qualifies for the honor, a decision that is controlled by concurrence from both the House and Senate.

The Jackson family has announced scheduled dates for memorial services beginning next week that will honor the late reverend’s life in Chicago, Washington, D.C., and South Carolina. In a statement, the Jackson family said it had heard from leaders in South Carolina, Jackson’s native state, and Washington offering for Jackson to be celebrated in both locations. Talks are ongoing with lawmakers about where those proceedings will take place. His final memorial services will be held in Chicago on March 6 and 7.

Typically, the Capitol and its Rotunda have been reserved for the “most eminent citizens,” according to the Architect of the Capitol’s website. It said government and military officials lie in state, while private citizens in honor.

In 2020, Rep. John Lewis, another veteran of the civil rights movement, was the first Black lawmaker to lie in state in the Capitol Rotunda after a ceremony honoring his legacy was held outside on the Capitol steps because of pandemic restrictions at the time.

Later that year, then-House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-San Francisco) allowed services for Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg at the Capitol’s Statuary Hall after agreement could not be reached for services in the Capitol’s Rotunda.

It is rare for private citizens to be honored at the Capitol, but there is precedent — most notably civil rights icon Rosa Parks, in 2005, and the Rev. Billy Graham, in 2018.

A passionate civil rights leader and globally minded humanitarian, Jackson’s fiery speeches and dual 1984 and 1988 presidential campaigns transformed American politics for generations. Jackson’s organization, the Rainbow PUSH Coalition, became a hub for progressive organizers across the country.

His unapologetic calls for a progressive economic agenda and more inclusive policies for all racial groups, religions, genders and orientations laid the groundwork for the progressive movement within the Democratic Party.

Jackson also garnered a global reputation as a champion for human rights. He conducted the release of American hostages on multiple continents and argued for greater connections between civil rights movements around the world, most notably as a fierce critic of the policies of apartheid in South Africa.

Brown and Mascaro write for the Associated Press.