mom

Diane Ladd, the Oscar-nominated actor who received acclaim for her work in films including “Rambling Rose,” “Wild at Heart” and “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” has died. She was 89.

Oscar winner Laura Dern, Ladd’s daughter with Oscar-nominated actor Bruce Dern, announced her mother’s death in a statement shared Monday. “My amazing hero and my profound gift of a mother, Diane Ladd, passed with me beside her this morning, at her home in Ojai,” Dern wrote. A cause of death was not revealed.

“She was the greatest daughter, mother, grandmother, actress, artist and empathetic spirit that only dreams could have seemingly created,” “Marriage Story” star Dern said in her statement. “We were blessed to have her.”

This is a developing story and will be updated.

LAURA Dern has revealed her mother, Diane Ladd, has died in an emotional statement.

The actress shared the sad news on Monday.

Laura’s statement read, “My amazing hero and my profound gift of a mother, Diane Ladd, passed with me beside her this morning, at her home in Ojai, Ca. 

“She was the greatest daughter, mother, grandmother, actress, artist and empathetic spirit that only dreams could have seemingly created. 

“We were blessed to have her.

“She is flying with her angels now,” Laura concluded.

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The Oscar nominated actress was 89 years old.

Diane appeared to have no plans of slowing down anytime soon, as her last social media post shared her latest project.

In September, the actress posted a picture on Instagram of a promotional photo for her new film, The Last Full Measure, which was recently released on numerous streaming platforms.

Diane also shared a screengrab of one of her scenes in the movie, opposite Christopher Plummer.

She gushed about the production, which was halted due to the Covid-19 pandemic, and her co-stars, including Peter Fonda, William Hurt, Ed Harris, Samuel L. Jackson, and Sebastian Stan.

Diane also teased a potential career pivot into podcasting, sparking a slew of comments from fans excited for what’s to come for the movie star.

“Looking forward to the movie and podcast! Much love to you!” one person wrote.

“Miss Diane, I cannot wait to hear what your podcast will contain,” said another.

“I’d love to hear your podcast Mrs. Ladd. You’re also one of the greats. Will never forget you in Wild at Heart. ICONIC. love,” boasted a third.

Diane’s death comes two months after her husband, Robert Charles Hunter, tragically passed.

Robert, who was the former PepsiCo CEO, was 77 when he died in August while visiting his family in Fort Worth, Texas.

He was the third husband of Diane’s, following her marriage to Laura’s father Bruce Dern from 1960 to 1969 and businessman William Shea Jr. from 1973 to 1976.

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Diane and Robert’s love story began when they met in Sedona, Arizona, and tied the knot in 1999.

They launched a production company together, though Diane is most known for her showstopping performances in front of the camera.

June Lockhart, the perennial TV mom who consoled her son Timmy and his faithful pet collie in “Lassie” and explained the unfolding galaxy to her children in the kitschy prime-time sci-fi show “Lost in Space,” has died.

Active in Hollywood well into her 90s, Lockhart died Thursday in Santa Monica of natural causes, with daughter June Elizabeth and granddaughter Christianna by her side, said her publicist, Harlan Boll.

She was 100.

Upbeat and bubbly, Lockhart happily accepted playing second-fiddle to children, animals and even a robot. In “Lassie,” she was most often seen teaching her son small life lessons extracted from his misadventures, often saved from peril by his faithful dog. In “Lost in Space,” she was a biochemist who seemed to spend most of her time prepping meals in the galley or tending to the children as the “Swiss Family Robinson”-like clan drifted randomly in space.

“Motherhood has been a pretty good dodge for me,” Lockhart told The Times, years after the shows went off the air. “I seem to have outlasted most of my colleagues because of it.”

Cast members of the TV show “Lost in Space” pose in costume in this 1965 publicity photo. Seated is Marta Kristen; standing, from left, is Mark Goddard, June Lockhart and Guy Williams.

(AP / CBS)

June Kathleen Lockhart was born on June 25, 1925, in New York City and grew up in a family steeped in the arts. Her father was a Broadway actor and her mother a singer. For years the family staged a seasonal production of “A Christmas Carol” in their home, inviting neighbors, friends and relatives to attend.

In 1938, the family went a step further and took their by now well-polished version of the Charles Dickens classic to film with a young Lockhart cast as Belinda Cratchit. The movie was all of one hour and nine minutes long.

Lockhart attended the Westlake School for Girls after the family moved to Los Angeles, where her father hoped to find a career as a film actor. But it was Lockhart who cracked Hollywood by landing modest but frequent roles on popular television shows such as “Wagon Train,” “Gunsmoke” and “Rawhide.”

In 1958, she was cast as Ruth Martin, the patient and good-natured mother on “Lassie,” a role that earned her an Emmy nomination. The show ran for 17 seasons, making it one of the longest-running prime-time shows on television. Lockhart left the series in 1964 to pursue other opportunities.

Lockhart realized the show had its limitations. “It was a fairy tale about people on a farm in which the dog solves all the problems in 22 minutes, just in time for the last commercial,” she told The Times.

The scripts were only slightly more challenging in “Lost in Space,” which followed the adventures of a family aboard a saucer-shaped spaceship headed to an Earth-like planet circling a faraway star. She left the show after three years and joined the cast of “Petticoat Junction” as a medical doctor who sets up practice in a worse-for-wear hotel in the middle of nowhere.

Earlier in life, Lockhart had been a regular on the news quiz show “Who Said That?” in which contestants were read a quote and asked to guess who said it. Lockhart had been absorbed by journalism and newsmakers since childhood, when she started a neighborhood newspaper. As an adult she subscribed to the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and Los Angeles Times, reading them from beginning to end.

To prep for the show, she began cutting out quotes from the newspapers and memorizing them. One of the panelists on the show, a White House reporter for United Press International, was so impressed with Lockhart‘s grasp of politics that he invited her to a White House briefing.

Lockhart went on to become an unofficial member of the White House press corps, attending briefings, traveling with the Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy entourages during their presidential showdown and hitting the campaign trail with Ronald Reagan.

June Lockhart in 1965.

(CBS via Getty Images)

During her years as an informal White House correspondent, she was called on only once to ask a question during a presidential briefing, asking President George W. Bush for the name of the veterinarian who cared for the first family’s dog, Barney. Bush chuckled and said it was top secret.

Though she never had another prime-time role as big as in “Lassie” or “Lost in Space,” her career was remarkably long. She was the kindergarten teacher on “Full House,” James Caan’s mother on “Las Vegas,” a mother once again on “The Drew Carey Show” and a hospice worker on “Grey’s Anatomy.” For years she hosted coverage of the Rose Parade on CBS.

Her final credit arrived in 2018, when she voiced a radio communications officer in the “Lost in Space” reboot on Netflix. Twice married and divorced, Lockhart is survived by daughters June Elizabeth and Anne, as well as four grandchildren, said longtime family friend, Lyle Gregory.

The service will be private. In lieu of flowers, the family suggests donations to the Actors Fund, ProPublica and International Hearing Dog Inc.

Times staff writer David Zahniser contributed to this report.

Comedian Becky Robinson’s life has turned into the most insanely fun reality show. One minute she’s screaming into a closet mirror, feeling defeated back in her parents’ house, and a few viral moments later, she’s on The Members Only tour, zipping around country clubs in Oakleys with her tricked-out Streetrod Golf Cart, “sauvi B,” and a sun visor clamped on her blond bob like it’s couture. Her bestie Trish is one call away, her kids Macabee and Dashiell are wrecking the house, her husband Scott isn’t listening (shocker), but her fans-turned-friends, the “Gieurlz,” are. Welcome to the world of the Entitled Housewife. No fancy membership required here because none of it is real, but it’s all so real.

Every story, and character, has a beginning and before she was taking rides on custom carts, she was riding an emotional roller coaster during the pandemic. “So during the pandemic I was with my sister, and she was working at an ER,” says Robinson. “She was in the trenches trying to help people and coming home and you know, might die, and I was terrified because she was coming home from work every day and — who knows? I grew up around Portland, so I had packed up my wigs to go there in case I was going to have a proper ‘Menty-B’ [mental breakdown]. Then even she was like, why don’t you go to mom and dad’s and try to find some form of happiness. So many people were depressed during that time, but I didn’t realize how much I needed to perform.”

While she was stuck at a low point, her parents were somehow in peak vacation mode. “My dad was like, ‘Golf is all we have! You know, we’re golfing all day,’” Becky says, impersonating her father. “He was wearing a golf glove on both hands, kind of like COVID protection, and he’s like, ‘Yeah, I’m doing my part, you know, I’m not wearing a mask, but I got a golf glove on both hands!’”

Becky Robinson takes the stage as the Entitled Housewife

(Megan Rego)

Her mom shared the same sentiment — not for double-fisting gloves — but she too needed to live. “My mom has kind of been through it health-wise, and so she was like, ‘I don’t want to be locked down. I want to go to happy hour with the gieurlz.’ I just sat there and watched them like, you guys are out of your f— minds. Then one day they left the house, and I just felt inspired. So I put a wig on.”

Robinson went into her parents’ closet and dressed herself in a polo, a skort and a visor. “I put on the Oakleys and the Air Pods and the second I looked in the mirror, I just started improvising. She was like, SCOTT! DASHIELL! MACABEE! [My character] had this element of, she could get frustrated very fast.”

That day, in her parents’ closet, Robinson turned lemons into hard lemonade, and with a visor high on her head like a regal crown, a new version of herself emerged — an entitled one. “I improvised for, like, five hours in character. It might have been a manic episode, I don’t know, but I just remember when the whole thing was assembled that day and I started filming, it was making me laugh and I was like, maybe it’ll make someone else laugh too.”

Initially, she hadn’t planned on posting videos of her in character on TikTok but considering how much she was making herself laugh, it was only a matter of time.

“When I made the first , I was like, ‘I can’t post this. It’s dark times and I’m going to look like such a fool for trying to be funny.’ But then I took an edible and showed my sister to see if it made her laugh because I figured she’s experiencing it every day, in the middle of it, and she told me to post it.”

The debut video of Entitled Housewife got millions of views on social media. As it would turn out, other people needed to laugh at the exact same time. “All these celebrities started messaging me and then Chris Pratt DM’d me and is like, ‘If you make a movie with these characters, I have to be Scott!’”

Robinson’s parents weren’t quite as enthusiastic when she showed them her content for the first time. “I think my dad walked out and my mom was like, ‘You know, Beck, this hits a little close to home.’ She was actually pissed at first because I used the real name of my dad’s country club, and it was so vulgar, so she was worried about him getting kicked out.”

Fast forward to now, and many of these types of golf clubs have booked her for shows and actually pay for her to be vulgar. “So they love it now!,” Robinson said. “People come up to my dad in the store like, ‘Are you Entitled’s dad?!’ He definitely loves the perks because he’s a huge golfer.”

“Some people really think I’m this 50-year-old golf lady with kids, and I think a lot of people think that I started when my character started,” Robinson said.

(Megan Rego)

With her family on board and fans worldwide cheering her on, she’s taking off the wig and going back to her stand-up, but with a touch of Entitlement. Shot at the Wilbur Theatre in Boston, her debut comedy special, “Becky Robinson: Entitled,” comes out Friday exclusively on her website and shines a massive spotlight on the fact that Robinson has never needed to lean on props to be funny.

“We’re definitely excited to be releasing on our own platform with entire creative control. The team I work with is so bad ass and they’re really the reason it was all brought to life. I wanted something to give to the fans, and I wanted them to be able to watch it without ads. I want them to see how much they lift me up, so I’m excited to get to release this exactly the way we want it. You know, it’s a little longer than an hour, which streamers don’t like, but the Gieurlz will.”

Robinson has been doing stand-up for 13 years, and that experience shows the second she hits any stage (or bar top). In “Entitled,” you see her stand-up carries the same raw, fearless charge that made her Entitled Housewife sketches a phenomenon. Similar, yet clearly distinct, the two share a flair for the dramatic and an energy that feels almost superhuman. “People are always asking, is it drugs? IS IT?,” Robinson laughs. “In the last couple of years, I got this trainer who is like, ‘You gotta treat this like you’re a professional athlete, OK, because that’s what you’re doing up there!’ For a while, I never listened because we were having fun and it’s just stand-up! And for the first couple of years of touring I would have some drinks and stuff, but now, we’re playing at a level where there are acrobatics involved and cues and high kicks and all these things where injury is very possible. Still, though, when I go out there, I just can’t give them anything less than 200%. Then when I get home, I sleep for 24 hours and then, I’m a person again.”

Should there still be any confusion about Robinson versus Entitled Housewife, in addition to her special, she also released a 30-minute documentary that goes behind the scenes of “Becky Robinson: Entitled.” Also available on her website, Robinson couldn’t be more grateful for her Gieurlz who make this world of hers possible, even if some of them think she’s a bit “seasoned.”

“It took me a while to realize that people see videos and just buy tickets, and that they didn’t even know I was this person who’s done stand-up for 13 years,” says Robinson. “Some people really think I’m this 50-year-old golf lady with kids, and I think a lot of people think that I started when my character started. I feel my funniest when I’m doing characters, and I love that people come out dressed like Entitled, but now more and more people are saying they came for the character, and now they like my stand-up too. You love to hear that so that’s been really great!”

“I wanted something to give to the fans,” Robinson said about her new special. “I want them to see how much they lift me up, so I’m excited to get to release this exactly the way we want it.”

(Tara Johnson)

In no way does that signal the end of the fun with Entitled. This fall, Robinson is taking her skort-wearing alter ego global with her very own golf tournament. From Nov. 6 to Nov. 9, “She Gone Golfing: The Entitled Housewife Tulum Classic” hits the PGA Riviera Maya, Mexico’s No.1-ranked course, with PXG backing the madness. It’s a full-blown Gieurlz escape with golf by day, and karaoke-fueled chaos by night in Mexico’s Riviera Maya.

“This trip is probably gonna take years off my life, but we’re gonna turn it up in Mexico, baby! Let’s get international! We’re gonna get that tequila flowing!” Though the idea of being a golfer may have started out as a joke for Robinson, she’s now become fully addicted to the sport.

“It’s such a fun game and it can relax you when you’re just out there waxing those balls! I really want to introduce more people to it so this will be a fun way to do that. The only reason I’m able to do all of these things is because of the fans coming to see the show, buying the merch, and showing up in the visors. They really are the best!”

SACRAMENTO — Thousands of rebels gathered outside the state Capitol on Saturday, mindlessly trampling the lawn in their Hokas, even as the autumnal sun in Sacramento forced them to strip off their protective puffer vests.

With chants of “No Kings,” many of these chaotic protesters spilled off sidewalks into the street, as if curbs held no power of containment, no meaning in their anarchist hearts.

Clearly, the social order has broken. Where would it end, this reporter wondered. Would they next be demanding passersby honk? Could they dare offer fiery speeches?

The answer came all too soon, when within minutes, I spotted clear evidence of the organized anti-fascist underground that U.S. Atty. Gen. Pam Bondi has been warning us about.

The “Raging Grannies of Sacramento” had set up a stage, and were testing microphones in advance of bombarding the crowd with song. These women wore coordinating aprons! They had printed signs — signs with QR codes. If grandmothers who know how to use a QR code aren’t dangerous, I don’t know who it is.

Ellen Schwartz, 82, told me this Canadian-founded group operates without recognized leaders — an “international free-form group of gaggles of grannies,” is how she put it, and I wrote it all down for Kash Patel.

Within moments, they had robbed Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews of their most famous duet: “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” mutilating it into “super callous fragile racist narcissistic POTUS.”

Ellen Schwartz, 82, is a member of the “Raging Grannies,” a group that protested at the “No Kings” rally in Sacramento on Saturday.

(Anita Chabria / Los Angeles Times)

Not to be outdone by the Silent Generation, 2-year-old Rhea also showed up, first clinging to her mom, then toddling around on her own as if she owned the place. This is a kid to keep an eye on.

Since Rhea cannot yet speak about her political beliefs, her parents gave me some insight into why she was there.

“I’m not sure if we’ll still have a civilization that allows protest very long, so I want her to at least have a memory of it,” said her dad, Neonn, who asked that their last names not be used. Like many Americans, he’s a bit hesitant to draw the eye of authority.

Kara, Rhea’s mom, had a more hopeful outlook.

“America is the people, so for me I want to keep bringing her here so that she knows she is part of something bigger: peace and justice,” she said, before walking off to see the dinosaurs.

Kara holds her 2-year-old daughter, Rhea, at the rally in Sacramento.

(Anita Chabria / Los Angeles Times)

Dinosaurs, that’s right. And tigers. And roosters. And unicorns. Even a cow hugging a chipmunk, which I believe is now illegal in most of the South.

Yes, folks, the Portland frog has started something. The place was full of un-human participants acting like animals — dancing with abandon, stomping around, saying really mean things about President Trump.

Meanwhile, the smell of roasting meat was undeniable. People, they were eating the hot dogs! They were eating the grilled onions! There were immigrants everywhere selling the stuff (and it was delicious).

I spoke to a Tyrannosaurus Rex and asked him why he went Late Cretaceous.

“If you don’t do something soon, you will have democracy be extinct,” Jim Short told me from inside the suit.

Jim Short, left, and his wife, Patty Short, donned dinosaur costumes at the “No Kings” rally in Sacramento.

(Anita Chabria / Los Angeles Times)

His wife, Patty, was ensconced in a coordinating suit, hers brown, his green. Didn’t they worry about being labeled anti-American for being here, as House Speaker Mike Johnson and others have claimed?

“I’m not afraid,” Patty said. “I’m antifa or a hardened criminal or what’s the other one?”

“Hamas?” Jim queried. “Or an illegal immigrant?”

“I think people need more history,” Patty said.

I agree.

And the day millions of very average Americans turned out to peacefully protect democracy — again — may be part of it.

My 73-year-old mother is coming to visit from the East Coast. She recently had hip surgery and it’s painful for her to walk too far. She likes quirky experiences like sushi on conveyor belts. I live in Sawtelle. Other times she has come we have gone to the Getty Villa, a couple studio tours, live taping of “Jeopardy!” and a local ramen place. She likes places with a backstory. For example in Boulder, she wanted to drive past the house where JonBenét Ramsey had lived because she is obsessed with true crime. One thing she did say she wanted to do was try to see “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” — CJ Schellack

Here’s what we suggest:

First off, your mom sounds like a good time. And I agree with her: The best places to visit often have an interesting backstory. Let’s start with the food. Given that your mom likes sushi experiences, make a stop at Yama Sushi Marketplace, conveniently located in your neighborhood. The family-owned Japanese seafood shop sells restaurant-quality sushi at takeout prices, writes Tiffany Tse in our guide to Sawtelle. “Just point to what catches your eye, and the staff will slice it fresh, sashimi-style, right in front of you,” she adds. Or if you’d prefer to check out another revolving sushi spot, check out Kura, which has a Sawtelle location.

To satisfy your mom’s appetite for one-of-a-kind, quirky experiences, head to Galco’s Soda Pop Stop in Highland Park. Yes, it’s a bit of a push from your hood — don’t go during rush hour — but it’s worth the trek, especially if you have a sweet tooth. The 100-year-old family-owned shop is stacked with aisles of rare sodas from around the globe, nostalgic candies and retro toys that its 82-year-old owner John Nese tells me “you can’t find anywhere else.” In the back of the shop, next to the make-your-own-soda station, there’s a deli stand that sells “blockbuster” sandwiches — a name that was inspired by boxing legend Rocky Marciano who, after tasting one, declared “This is a real blockbuster!” (Pro tip: If Nese is there when you visit — and the likelihood is high because he “practically lives there,” he says — be sure to ask him for a rec.)

Once you’ve secured your snacks, grab a picnic blanket or low chair and head over to Hollywood Forever Cemetery to watch a movie — a favorite L.A. experience for many of my colleagues. Through Halloween, Cinespia is hosting movie nights at the cemetery where stars like Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney and Johnny Ramone are laid to rest. Films are projected onto a mausoleum wall and moviegoers sit on the lawn (an open area with no graves). There’s a designated wheelchair user and companion area with restrooms close by, and accessible parking is available with a placard (though you’ll still need to buy a parking pass in advance).

But if you think your mom would be more comfortable indoors, check out the Quentin Tarantino-owned New Beverly Cinema, known for screening double features of classic, indie, cult and foreign flicks the old-fashioned way — on 35mm film. As Michael Ordoña writes in our guide to the best movie theaters in Los Angeles, “the New Bev is just what a rep cinema should be. It’s cozy, with a mellow, enthusiastic vibe. Surprises sometimes occur.”

To tap into your mom’s inner true crime fascination, make a visit to some of L.A.’s darker landmarks. “I like to take friends visiting from the East Coast on a drive along the Sunset Strip to show them where famous people died, like Belushi at Chateau Marmont and River Phoenix outside the Viper Room,” senior audience editor Vanessa Franko tells me. (Bonus: You don’t even need to get out of your car.) But if you prefer an actual tour, visit the Greystone Mansion and Gardens, where oil heir and homeowner Ned Doheny and his secretary, Hugh Plunkett, were found dead in 1929. Times travel writer Christopher Reynolds recommends it, saying that at this destination, you get “a crime scene, filming location and L.A. oil history, all in one.” We’ve also curated a list of 12 iconic L.A. film and TV horror homes that’s worth checking out (the filming location for the WB series “Charmed” is featured in the photo illustration above). I hope that you and your very cool mom have the best time. Please send us pictures if you hit up any of these spots.

A DEVASTATED family ripped apart by the death of their beloved son in the Idaho murder tragedy was forced to quickly move on from unimaginable heartbreak in less than five months for the sake of their surviving children. 

Ethan Chapin, 20, was a triplet and one of Bryan Kohberger’s four victims in the sickening University of Idaho knife attack in November 2022.

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Brave mom, Stacy, opened up her heart to The U.S. Sun at Crimecon last month about the nightmare of dealing with her beloved, fun-loving son being murdered with the world at his feet. 

She stressed that even though sick Kohberger will rot behind bars for the rest of his life after eventually pleading guilty to the savage killings of Ethan, Madison Mogen, Kaylee Goncalves and Xana Kernodle, her family aren’t interested in the reasons why. 

But Stacy, who has thrown herself into vitally important advocacy work in the wake of her son’s shocking death, has revealed there was no time for her and husband Jim to wallow in misery. 

With Ethan’s brother and sister, Maizie and Hunter, who were on campus on that fateful evening, recently completing their own studies, the couple made the decision to somehow come to terms with the tragedy and move on for the sake of the remaining triplets’ future.

She says a heart-heart with Jim over a cup of morning coffee helped them realize that the best way forward was to “just get up and live life.”

They will never forget their beloved son, who they joked was minoring in Bud Light Lime and Taco Bell.

But with his brother and sister needing their parents more than ever to deal with the aftermath of Ethan’s senseless killing, Stacy and Jim vowed to honor his memory by ensuring Maizie and Hunter have their unconditional attention and support. 

“We just decided that you can lose yourself in grief, “ Stacy told The U.S. Sun.

“We had to do that for Ethan’s siblings. They didn’t deserve parents who had potentially gone in the tank or lost themselves. 

“We made a decision on a day in March of 2023 that we couldn’t change the outcome, and we had to still live our life and be great parents to Maizie and Hunter, giving them the best life they deserved.”

BRAVE FACE

The Chapin’s were the only family to abstain from attending Kohberger’s sentencing hearing earlier this summer.

They didn’t want to subject themselves to any more pain. 

Once the deranged Washington State graduate admitted to his heinous crimes, that at least removed the prospect of Ethan’s brother and sister having to take the stand and retrace the moments leading up to the sickening murders in a potential retrial.

Kohberger has never revealed why he cut short the lives of the four students. 

Stacy admits she won’t waste any time wondering why. 

The agony remains and will never leave her. Seeing her children recover from the nightmare and thrive, however, fills her and husband with hope.

“I would be lying if I didn’t say there are still tough moments,” Stacy continued. 

“But even now, every day feels like we’re a little bit closer to our new normal, whatever that looks like. Our kids are doing great. 

“They’ve also persevered in a way that amazes me as a mom. They were there that day. They all went to college together; they spent every second together.

“The fact that they went back to school and graduated and are now looking at their careers. I couldn’t be more proud of them.”

Kohberger avoided the death penalty upon pleading guilty on July 23 and was hit with four consecutive life sentences. 

The full details of Bryan Kohberger’s sentence

On July 23, 2025, Judge Steven Hippler sentenced Bryan Kohberger to the following:

• Count 1: Burglary – 10 years fixed, zero years in determinate. $50,000 fine.
• Count 2: First-degree murder of Madison Mogen: Fixed term of life in prison without the possibility of parole. $50,000 fine and civil penalty of $5,000 payable to the family of the victim.
• Count 3: First-degree murder of Kaylee Goncalves: Fixed term of life in prison without the possibility of parole. $50,000 fine and civil penalty of $5,000 payable to the family of the victim.
• Count 4: First-degree murder of Xana Kernodle: Fixed term of life in prison without the possibility of parole. $50,000 fine and civil penalty of $5,000 payable to the family of the victim.
• Count 5: First-degree murder of Ethan Chapin: Fixed term of life in prison without the possibility of parole. $50,000 fine and civil penalty of $5,000 payable to the family of the victim.

The sentencings will run consecutively to one another.

ALWAYS REMEMBERED

While the Chapins stayed away from court, Ethan was on their mind. Stacy posted an emotional message on social media declaring her late son would “forever” be in their hearts.

His name will also shine on through Ethan’s Smile Foundation, which was established by the family to honor his memory. 

It aims to showcase “his love of life, people and new adventures” by providing scholarships for fellow students to “follow their dreams.”

“Ethan’s love for life was boundless. With a booming laugh and infectious smile, he spread joy to all who were fortunate enough to know him. Ethan was our storyteller, hard worker, and friend-maker,” Stacy and Jim declared on the foundation website.

‍“In the wake of his absence, the foundation was born—a tribute to Ethan’s unwavering passion for life. Our mission is simple yet profound: to carry forward the legacy of Ethan by providing scholarships that enable others to follow their dreams.

‍“In every corner we venture, in every heart we touch, we strive to keep the spirit of Ethan alive, reminding ourselves and others of the adventures and kindness that life has to offer.”

Stacy has also begun to foster a strong relationship with cutting-edge forensics company Othram, who helped accelerate the process of proving Kohberger’s guilt.

The Texas based specialists were able to extract DNA from the tan leather knife sheaf which was found in the room of Goncalves following the killings.

Investigators believe she was the first victim, with Kohberger leaving it behind after her friends came back to check on her wellbeing. 

“Myself and Jim are a team,” Stacy concluded. “To have closure means the world to us.”

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For years, Matthew McConaughey wouldn’t tell his mom, Kay, anything of substance during their weekly phone calls — her love of spreading news had cost her his trust.

“We had about an eight-year period where I had to have short conversations with her on our Sunday phone calls because she was sharing a lot of information,” Matthew told People in a joint interview with his mother. “I’d tell her something on Sunday between son and mom, and Tuesday I’d read about it in the news or see it in the local paper.”

Kay called the period a hiatus, which started after she took the media on a tour of Matthew’s childhood home without his consent. In her defense, she didn’t think he would find out.

“I was so proud that I was just telling the world,” she said.

The hiatus came to an end when Matthew felt stable enough with his fame. When the two hit red carpets together after that, Kay would ask if there were any rules she had to follow, but he let her tell the raunchiest stories at will.

“My mom can say whatever the hell she wants,” Matthew said. “Let’s take the lasso off and just go for it, Mom.”

Matthew and Kay co-star in the upcoming film “The Lost Bus,” where she plays his mother. The movie, which premieres Friday on Apple TV+, also stars Matthew’s oldest son, Levi.

Hear the sound of fingers crossing? That might be Levi hoping his dad learned a thing or two from Grandma.

How does one care for their aging parent without losing sight of their own identity?

The first thing Roxana Ortega will say is: “We have to not abandon ourselves.”

The L.A.-born Latina actress outlines the deeply emotional process of caring for an aging parent in her first play, “Am I Roxie?,” which premieres Sept. 11 and kicks off the Geffen Playhouse’s 2025-26 season.

The production will remain through Oct. 5 at the Gil Cates Theater and is directed by Bernardo Cubría, (“Crabs in a Bucket” and “The Play You Want”).

Ortega’s one-woman show was inspired by her mother, Carmen, whose memory is in decline due to Alzheimer’s disease. Bounded by her commitment to being the perfect Latina daughter, Ortega illustrates how she stepped up to provide caregiving duties, while trying to sustain her acting career — even if it was just a Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwich commercial.

“This show to me is about how to not abandon ourselves in a time of such great darkness,” says Ortega through a video call.

Onstage, Ortega masterfully transforms her solo act into an ensemble performance, through her many quirky accents and mannerisms alone; her characters range from her three Peruvian tías to an imaginary cholo critic and a perky, silicone-bloated nurse.

Capturing a broad emotional spectrum, from joy to grief, it is clear that Ortega — a former troupe member of the Groundlings Sunday Company — showcases a lifetime of skills on the Westwood stage.

“Everything just merged as I was trying to write about what was happening,” says Ortega. “I was also leaving sketch comedy [group] the Groundlings, so I was finding my own voice. All those things merged to birth this, a perfect combination of so many desires and dreams I’ve had.”

With over 80 acting credits to her name, the multi-hyphenate artist is best known for voicing the melodramatic Frida Casagrande from Nickelodeon’s Emmy-winning show “The Casagrandes,” an animated sitcom about a family living in the fictional Great Lakes City. Other notable credits include Netflix’s “Grand-Daddy Day Care” and “Santa Clarita Diet,” Warner Bros.‘ “Miss Congeniality 2” as well as the popular Fox series “New Girl.”

Audiences should buckle up — preferably with tissues at the ready — for a roller coaster of emotions, as they witness Ortega relinquish control over an unchangeable fate, while holding compassion for her mother and herself in “Am I Roxie?”

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Your one-woman show, “Am I Roxie?,” explores your personal journey as a caretaker for your aging parent, but it also focuses on your artistic aspirations. Can you walk me through your decision to make this the subject of your next project?

I’ve always wanted to turn my personal material into art; most artists do feel that way. I had been doing it for quite a while in sketch comedy, [by] taking characters like my tías, who I find to be so hysterical, and trying to put them into things. So I knew somewhere in the back of my brain — or in the middle — that I wanted to do a show about my family. I watched Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s “Lackawanna Blues,” so I always wanted to do that.

This play approaches heavy topics with humor. How did you strike that balance?

I think that’s just the way my brain works. I think a lot of comedians are this way; we’re always looking for laughs and maybe that’s how we survive ’cause we are very sensitive people — I’m very sensitive and very intense, so laughter is that levity.

Through the development process, we did have some discussions about certain moments. Do we want people to laugh when I’m in the chaise longue texting, “Is [my mom] still alive?” We had more “Shark Tank” sounds running through that and then changed it.

Caregiving is obviously a huge endeavor for Latinos — Latina women, more specifically. How do you make sense of the idea of care now?

I [think of] abandonment. There’s something so primal when somebody is aging and you can tell, “This person was in charge of me; they’re so vulnerable; now they need me. Oh my god, I can’t abandon them, right?” You feel like, “I don’t want to be abandoned, so I don’t want to abandon them.” It really shocked me how strong that urge was and I think we also have to not abandon ourselves. We absolutely cannot.

If you go into the caregiving world, they talk about care like: “Here’s your pills, here’s the food and we have some music coming in.” Maybe if you’re lucky, there’s bingo — but my mom wouldn’t play bingo! Are you f— kidding me? Care should be individualized. It should address the spirit.

Guilt creeps up in this play disguised as your inner Latina critic every time you do something that feels selfish in light of your mom’s situation. What relationship do you have with your inner critic now?

I definitely feel like I’ve gone through a journey from fear to love with the task of caregiving and even in relation to myself; I learned to love myself more, which is part of caring for yourself.

In this process of putting [my story] out there, of just being so gentle with myself and saying, “No matter what happens, no matter how it’s received, I’m not going to put my identity on the line.” There will be no beating myself up. There will be no, “Now you’re terrible because this, this, this …” It’s always a practice. Life is too short for us to feel bad.

There’s no benefit to suffering, and most of our suffering we do to ourselves through that critic by giving it power. And in our culture, sometimes it’s glorified.

You’re an overachiever, a Berkeley grad and former Groundlings member. But in “Am I Roxie?,” you balance the urgency of achieving your goals with the grief of losing a parent who is still alive. How did it feel to not give up on your dreams?

I felt like a terrible daughter. It’s hard. There’s a point in the show when I leave my mom and she says, “Don’t leave me here,” and I leave her and go to an audition. That’s a hard moment and I can tell that the audience is like, “How could you do that?” It feels vulnerable to show that I did that. But then, how does a mother leave their child at kindergarten? How can you find the balance where you are nurturing yourself and nurturing somebody else?

It was hard. I would beat myself up a lot and cry about feeling so terrible. And then go the next day to absolve myself. The more [my mom] found other relationships with a caregiver, the more I felt like, “Okay, she’s safe.”

Motherhood is also at the core of your story — not just with your mother, but as you explore your own fertility journey. How did your concept of motherhood change after caring for your mother?

What I didn’t explicitly say in the play is that I am a mother. I mothered my mother. Now, not everyone who is a mother by having a baby is necessarily a “mothering mother.” Something that this disease taught me is what these words really mean. What is it to be a sister? What is it to be a mother? What I learned in caring for my mom is that I am a mother, because I was able to nurture on such a deep level. Even when all the signs showed that she’s not there anymore. A mother knows her baby. She was my baby at the end.

After our fertility journey, 10 years of trying, me birthing this piece of art was me mothering my creativity into existence.

 You don’t mention Alzheimer’s by name until that very end. Why?

Part of it was accepting the journey and being able to say the diagnosis. Sometimes there’s an avoidance around Alzheimer’s. Nobody wants to say the word or talk about the disease ’cause it’s sad. So I wanted to make it a moment when I actually said it so that we can see the weight of it. Hopefully viewers will leave the theater being able to speak about it and to know it in an intimate way. Naming it is so important, so we can take the sting and discomfort off.

There are tender moments onstage where you let out tears. What is it like to relive those real-life moments on stage every night?

It is so difficult, more difficult than I thought it would be. My mom is onstage with me when I walk out there. I take her hand and I put her in that little opera chair next to me and we are together. Saying goodbye to her every night is hard.

This column is the latest in a series on parenting children in the final years of high school, “Emptying the Nest.” Read the last installment, “A Mother’s Plea to Trump.”

My third and youngest child went off to college a week ago, and for the first time in 27 years, my husband and I are living in a house with no kids. It’s a strange and silent place, in which all the beds are neatly made, the floors around them no longer mulched with clothing, charge cords and snack wrappers. There are no discarded once-frozen coffee drinks sweating rings onto wooden tables; no empty Styrofoam takeout containers littering kitchen counters mere inches away from the trash can.

One can walk freely across the family room now, with no fear of tripping over abandoned shoes, balled-up socks or peanut-butter-smeared dishes, and the days remain unpierced by the maddening repetition of overheard TikTok memes and the escalating cries of “mom, Mom, MOM” to indicate an impending celebration or crisis.

My daughter very kindly left me a hamper full of dirty clothes upon her departure and a closet that was essentially an archaeological site of the months’ (years’?) worth of her particular method of tidying her room. My discovery therein of the perfume (in a plastic bag that also included her crumpled prom dress) she had been desperately searching for as she packed for college was sweet but short-lived. Yes, I did tell her to look in her closet and, yes, she did roll her eyes and swear that she did, but it doesn’t matter now.

She is gone, the last of the children who have been the light of so much of my adult life, and I miss her truly, madly, deeply. The sight of her luminous smile and her “nothing’s wrong” grimace; the smell of her floral shampoo and funky basketball shoes; the sound of her singing in the shower and yelling at the dogs to get off her bed.

Those dogs, I hasten to note, are doing the best they can to bridge the void. Sensing that a workday no longer interrupted by my daughter’s frantic search for her jersey/wallet/shoes is no workday at all, Harley has been nudging his toys under my sofa or chair and then whining for me to “find” them while Koda has taken on teenage-affection duty — randomly hurling himself onto my lap for attention only to pull away and vanish once I put my laptop aside and attempt to cuddle.

Still I am bereft and unmoored. The mad scramble to prepare and pack for college is finally over and in its place is … nothing. Well, there is my job, of course. But after 27 years of (often imperfectly) balancing work and motherhood, I feel like a professional juggler who is left with a single ball. For the first time in a very long time, I am the sole proprietor of my day, responsible only for myself.

Already I can see this is going to be a problem.

Not only do I miss my daughter for her own sweet, occasionally maddening self, I miss the structure she, and her siblings, imposed on my life. The school schedule, the after-school schedule, the weekend sports schedule. The doctor’s appointments, the dentist appointments, the haircuts and meal making, the playdates and sleepovers and trips to the playground/zoo/theme park/museum. The bedtimes, the dinner times, homework; the unexpected accommodations for illness, injury and very bad days. Parenthood is many things, but while your children are actual children, it is the clock and calendar.

Which are also now gone. I am still a working mother, but the “mother” part suddenly requires much less work. With juggling no longer required, my job should be so much easier. And yet it’s not. Facing a different sort of day, I find myself struggling to reset. And so I have created a list of Empty Nest/Labor Day resolutions. (And if they sound suspiciously like the advice I’ve given my kids over the years, well, I guess I am mothering myself.)

1. Popcorn and frozen yogurt are not dinner. After three decades of shopping for and preparing reasonably healthy evening meals, I confess I was looking forward to taking a break. But my post-college drop-off “dinner” is clearly not the answer. Eat some fruit and veggies, for heaven’s sake.
2. Put down the phone. Checking for texts or haunting my child’s Instagram is just sad, and perusing Facebook for friends also dropping kids off at college has thus far only led me to endless video feeds. Sure, watching border collies at work and the outtakes from “This Is 40” is great fun, but is it worth an hour of my one and only life? No.
3. Keep setting the alarm. I may no longer need to be up and dressed in time to take or see my kid off to school, but that alarm has been starting my day for five decades now.
4. Get up, stretch and walk around. Despite having a desk job, I never paid much attention to all those pesky ergonomics instructions. I had kids who regularly demanded that I interrupt my work to get up and do something else (which often required actual running). Now I don’t. So it’s up to me.

5. Go outside at least a few times a day. Even with the playground days in the distant past, it is amazing how often your teenage children require your presence outside — if only to walk across the Target parking lot for the third time in a week or examine the dent “someone” put in your car. Find a way to touch grass that doesn’t involve picking up dog poop.

6. Keep up with the calendar. I was certain that, without the presence of so many child-related appointments/events, I could keep track of my husband’s and my schedules in my head. Three missed appointments later, that’s a hard nope.
7. Plan things for the weekends. For years, our weekends were dominated by sports events. More recently, as the empty nest loomed, my husband and I kept them clear on the off chance that our daughter might want to do something with us. Now we are free to do those weekend things we enjoyed as a couple — and I’m sure we’ll remember what they were in time.

8. Carry tissues. I did not cry when I drove away from my daughter at her New York college — I was frankly too tired from the move-in and too worried about the traffic around JFK airport. But when I made my first trip to Ralphs a few days later and saw her favorite potato chips, I burst into tears. Right in the snack aisle.
9. Bite back the wistful advice. When I was deep in the maelstrom of life with young kids, nothing pushed me closer to the edge of insanity than some older mom telling me to “treasure these moments” because “time moves so fast.” “Not fast enough,” I would think grimly as I balanced a crying baby with an exploding diaper and a whiny toddler with an exploding juice box. Now I am that older mom who can’t believe how quickly time passed. But I’ll try to keep it to myself.
10. Be patient. When the last child goes, it’s as big a life change as when the first child arrives (albeit with less spit-up and more sleep). Everything is different and it will take time to adjust. And just when I get used to my calm, quiet house, my daughter will be home for the holidays, leaving shoes and trash and dirty clothes all over the place. No doubt it will drive me nuts. At the moment, I cannot wait.

Jane Pitt, a schoolteacher, philanthropist and the mother of film star Brad Pitt, died on Tuesday at the age of 84.

The Pitt family shared her obituary with KY3, an NBC-affiliated station in Springfield, Mo., where Jane and her husband, Bill, raised their three children — Brad, Doug Pitt and Julie Neal.

The cause of Pitt’s death was not revealed by the family.

Doug Pitt’s daughter Sydney shared a tribute to her grandmother on her Instagram account with a series of pictures.

“We were not ready for you to go yet but knowing you are finally free to sing, dance, and paint again makes it a tad easier,” she wrote.

“I don’t know how we move forward without her. But I know she’s still here in every brushstroke, every kind gesture, every hummingbird. She was love in its purest form,” Sydney added.

In addition to being an accomplished artist, her family said Jane Pitt was an elementary school teacher with the Springfield public school system. In 2009, the Pitts donated $1 million to establish the Jane Pitt Pediatric Cancer Center at Mercy Hospital in Springfield.

She would occasionally make red carpet appearances with her son Brad. The actor’s six children are among the Pitts’ 14 grandchildren, and the family said Jane Pitt treasured her role as grandmother. “The years of ‘Your Special Day’ of one-on-ones with each grandkid are some of their fondest memories,” the family said in her obituary.

Kayleigh McEnany and husband Sean Gilmartin welcomed their third child — a girl.

“We are overjoyed to announce the newest member of the ‘Outnumbered’ family,” Emily Compagno said Monday during the Fox News Channel show she co-hosts with McEnany. She noted that viewers could see the baby “letting out a big yawn” in photos provided by her mom and dad.

Avery was born on Wednesday, the network said.

McEnany tweeted Monday that she and her husband are “so in love with our new baby girl, Avery Grace! Blake and Nash love their baby sister, and we are enjoying this beautiful time in life!”

McEnany was a tad more nuanced in notes given to Compagno, who quoted the three-time mom as saying that while big sister Blake, 5, “can’t stop thinking about the baby,” big brother Nash, 2, had “finally warmed up to her.”

In her announcement, the former White House press secretary included Psalm 139: 13-14, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

Compagno said the “Outnumbered” crew, headed by Harris Faulkner, was “wishing Kayleigh and Sean all the best as they continue to grow their beautiful family.” She told McEnany to please come back, but “not too soon.”

McEnany announced back in March that she and Gilmartin were expecting their third child.

“It’s very sweet. It’s been a special time,” she said. “I’ve been pregnant during Christmas and during Thanksgiving, and my daughter Blake now knows, so she runs up and holds my stomach and is like, ‘Let me kiss the baby.’ ”

The baby got in just under the June deadline that McEnany shared at the time.

McEnany and Gilmartin, a pitcher who retired from professional baseball in 2022, started dating in 2015 and got married in 2017. After working in broadcast media initially, McEnany served as press secretary to President Trump from April 2020 through the end of his first term in January 2021, landing at Fox soon after.

She’s one of a host of former press secretaries who have landed jobs on cable and broadcast news.

The accomplished mother that photographer-writer Rachel Elizabeth Seed never knew is the star of her deeply affecting “A Photographic Memory,” one of last year’s best documentaries, finally making its way to Los Angeles theaters. This poetic gem is a journey from the weight of absence to the serenity of presence, thanks in no small part to the inquisitive, gifted woman pulled from obscurity: Sheila Turner-Seed, whose life was short but full and worth revitalizing.

Turner-Seed, a journalist, was 42 when she died in 1979, leaving behind an 18-month-old daughter, a bereft photographer husband (Brian Seed) and a legacy of wide-ranging, globe-trotting reportage that culminated in a renowned oral and visual history called “Images of Man.” The project was anchored by Turner-Seed’s groundbreaking interviews with the world’s best living photographers at the time, including Henri Cartier-Bresson, Cecil Beaton, Lisette Model and Gordon Parks. And though she only ever referred to herself as an amateur with a camera, Turner-Seed once saw a photo of hers land on the cover of the New York Times.

That her daughter also pursued photography and nonfiction storytelling could be viewed as the manifestation of a deeply felt connection. Was following her mother’s passion the most readily available way to process a personal loss the director essentially had no memory of? Seed only began exploring the true breadth and emotion of her mother’s legacy when she herself reached the age that her mom died, a milestone fraught for many grown, parentless children.

What the younger Seed found, accompanied by memories from her mother’s colleagues, was a rich archive of adventurous work and personal expression: photos, journals, contact sheets, Super8 film, audio pieces and a trove of interviews. These discussions reveal a soulful, probing mind that not only kept her subjects on their toes, but warmly elicited thoughtful answers about the nature of their moment-in-time art.

Turner-Seed’s own writing lays bare a struggle for self-fulfillment, to reconcile the traditional values pushed by her Jewish immigrant parents with a restless need to discover and make her own way. In an especially revealing journal entry from 1972, she wonders if she’ll grow in her chosen fields if she marries and has a child — but also, will she want to? A lanky, warm presence with a sociable smile, Turner-Seed is never far from a keenly observed thought or ambivalent feeling.

Why “A Photographic Memory” stands out, however, is her daughter’s handling of this precious life. It’s a heartbreakingly imaginative conjuring of the parent-child connection that never came to be, but which Seed and her editors (including documentary cutting legend Maya Daisy Hawke) finesse to life.

With melancholy and playfulness both, Seed threads in her own introspective voice-over and contemporary footage (poring over material, visiting her dad, sparring with a boyfriend). She also adds grainy period re-creations of her mom’s interviews, Seed playing her own parent in these 8mm snippets. Eventually, technology allows these distant intimates to share a frame.

Biographical and essayistic, “A Photographic Memory” suggests both a woman interested in locating her remarkable mother, gone too soon, and an artist exploring her own place. Of the impulse to take a photo, to grab the moment, we hear Cartier-Bresson excitedly tell Turner-Seed, “Life is once, forever.” Her future daughter’s marvelous movie embodies that idea beautifully.

Three years ago, an armed young man entered Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, and killed 19 students and two teachers. Hundreds of law enforcement officials reportedly stood around the school campus for more than an hour without approaching the shooter.

In the midst of the inaction, one mom — Angeli Rose Gomez — pleaded with officers to take action or let her go in to get her two children and nephew. She was apprehended and handcuffed, but ultimately talked her way out of arrest before she sprinted inside the school to grab the kids.

Videos on social media captured the moments that Gomez brought her sons and nephew out of the school. The Texas field worker and mother of two was quickly dubbed a hero in national and local publications for her courage.

The new documentary film “Uvalde Mom” follows Gomez after becoming nationally recognized — while examining the forces at play in the Uvalde community which allowed for the shooting to take place, as well as the aftermath of such a tragedy.

“All I wanted that day was my kids to come out of the school alive, and that’s what I got,” Gomez says in one pivotal moment in the film. “I don’t want to be called a hero. I don’t want to be looked at as the hero because the only job that I did that day was being a mom.”

The feature’s director Anayansi Prado was “moved” and “horrified” by what had happened and felt motivated to make a film about the event after seeing members of the affected families on TV.

“I saw that there were Latinos, they were Mexican American, that it was a border town, that it was an agricultural farming town, and that really resonated with me and with communities I’ve done film work with before,” Prado told The Times.

Prado began reaching out to people in Uvalde shortly after the shooting, but didn’t hear back from anyone for over two months due to the inundation of media requests everyone in the city was receiving. The only person to reply to her was Gomez.

Ahead of the film’s screening Saturday at the Los Angeles Latino International Film Festival, Prado spoke with The Times about the process and the challenges of making her documentary.

This interview has been edited and shortened for clarity.

Was the idea always for this project to be a feature-length film? Or were there talks of making it a short or a series?

I’ve always thought about it as a feature because I really wanted to dive in and understand Uvalde as a character. I wanted to understand the history of the criminal justice system, the educational system. I knew I wanted to make something that was going to be of a longer form rather than just a piece that was about Angeli or something. And a few people told me this would make a great short, but as I uncovered more about Uvalde, I was like, “No, Uvalde itself has its own history, just like a person.”

When it came to choosing Angeli, was she the first and only person who responded to your outreach?

I think the people in town were oversaturated with media coverage, and Angeli was the one that got back to me. What was really interesting is that I learned on that first trip [to Uvalde] about her backstory and I learned about how the criminal justice system had failed her. I saw a parallel there of how the system failed the community the day of the shooting and how it was failing this woman also individually. I wanted to play with those two stories, the macro and the personal. Once I learned who she was, beyond the mom who ran into the school, I was like, “I have to tell this woman’s story.”

How did you go about balancing her personal stuff and the failures that happened on a larger scale?

So much of the way the film is structured is reflective of my own experience as a filmmaker. It was a sort of surreal world, these two worlds were going on: what was happening to Angeli and then what was going on outside with the lack of accountability and the cover-up. So that informed the way that I wanted to structure the film.

In terms of the personal, it was a journey to gain Angeli’s trust. At some point at the beginning, she wasn’t sure she wanted to participate in the film, and so I told her, “You don’t owe me anything. I’m a stranger, but all I ask is that you give me a chance to earn your trust.” And she was like, “OK.” From there on, she opened up and, pretty quickly, we became close and she trusted me. I was very cognizant [of] her legal past and even the way she’s perceived by some folks. I also didn’t want Angeli to come off as a victim and people to feel sorry for her, but I still wanted to tell her story in a way where you get mad at the system for failing her.

What kind of struggles did you have trying to get in communication with some of the officials of the city?

We used a lot of news [archives] to represent that part of the story. The [authorities] weren’t giving any interviews, they were just holding press conferences. So access was limited, but also the majority of the time that we were filming, we were very low-key about the production — because Angeli was on probation and there was retaliation for her speaking to the media. We tried to keep it under wraps that we were filming, so not a lot of people knew about it [besides] her family. Obviously other folks in town [were] part of the film, like her friend Tina and family members. Outside of that, it was too risky to let other people in town know what was going on.

Ultimately I wanted to make [“Uvalde Mome”] a personal portrait. I was just very selective on the people that we absolutely needed to interview. I’m happy with Tina, who’s an activist in town, and Arnie, a survivor of the shooting and a school teacher, [plus] Angeli’s legal team. I felt like those were people we needed to tell a fuller story. But we just couldn’t be out in the open making a film about her and let people know.

What kind of reception have you gotten from people of Uvalde that have seen the film?

We had our premiere at South by Southwest, which was great. A lot of folks came from Uvalde and spoke about how, almost three years later, a lot of this stuff is still going on. Every time Gov. Greg Abbott came on-screen, people would scream, “Loser!” It was really moving to have those screenings.

As was expected from the folks who are not fans of Angeli, there was some backlash. It’s the same narrative you see in the film of, “She’s a criminal, don’t believe her.” It’s a town that is an open wound. I just try to have compassion for people. Ultimately, Angeli’s story is the story of one person in Uvalde of many that need to continue to be told. And I hope that other filmmakers, journalists and other storytellers continue to tell the story there, especially with the lack of closure and accountability. I’m happy that the film is putting Uvalde back into the headlines in some way; that way we don’t forget about it.

Had you ever spent an extended amount of time in Texas before?

I had been to Texas, but I hadn’t done a project in Texas. Because I’m an outsider, it was very important for me to hire a 100% local Texas crew for this film. My crew was entirely Texas-based, from our PAs to our sound to our DPs. I also wanted to have a majority Texas-born Mexican American crew so that they could guide me. We began production in September of 2022 and the atmosphere was very tense.

This is a story that is deeply rooted in the Latino community and the tension about the law enforcement in Uvalde. What was it like dealing with that tension and how did you personally feel that when you went into the town?

When I got to Uvalde, I saw that the majority of the Latino community had been there for several generations. You would think a town with that kind of Mexican American history, and them being the majority, that they’d be pretty cemented and represented, right? It was really eye-opening to see [how] these folks are still considered second-class citizens. A lot of them are being repressed. And then you have folks that get in positions of power, but they’re whitewashed in line with the white conservative agenda. So even those that are able to get into positions of power don’t lean towards the community. They turn their back on it.

I heard from folks that the history of neglect was what led to the response that day at Robb Elementary. And they’re like, “Yeah, that’s what happens on that side of town. You call the cops, they don’t come. Our schools are run-down.” You really see the disparity. This was a Mexican American community that had been there for a long time. It’s fascinating how the conservative white community, even if they’re the smaller part of the population, they can still hold the power.

“Vacation” and “sex” were once my two favorite words. Put them together and you’ve got the mecca of pleasure: a romp in Egyptian cotton sheets followed by a juicy room service cheeseburger. Can you say sex in Italian? I can — “sesso” — because my husband and I copulated our way across the country early in our relationship. On our honeymoon in Hawaii two decades ago, we barely left our room and nearly missed the luau. Every getaway back then offered foreplay with a view.

And then we had a kid.

Still, the lure of vacation sex beckons. And not just for me and my husband. According to a survey conducted for the book “Tell Me What You Want: The Science of Sexual Desire and How It Can Help You Improve Your Sex Life,” 90% of people fantasized about sex in a hotel.

“All couples put ‘vacation sex’ on a pedestal because we’re more relaxed and playful when we get out of our daily routines,” says sex therapist Emily Morse, author of “Smart Sex: How to Boost Your Sex IQ and Own Your Pleasure” and host of the podcast “Sex With Emily.” “But we shouldn’t lose that intimacy because we travel with kids.”

So when my husband and I decided to celebrate 20 years of marriage by returning to Maui with our mercurial teen daughter Tess in tow, we vowed to get it on at least once on our trip. We started with a rough strategy: booking a 640-square-foot room with two queen beds. If you’re in the mood to get frisky during your family vacation, here are some tips to consider.

Plan like a pro

If you want to engage in some intimate time, add it to your itinerary before you take off. “You have to schedule sex like you schedule snorkeling or any excursion,” says Morse. “If you wait around for it to happen, it won’t happen.”

Sophie Pierce, a mom to three daughters ages 8, 9 and 14, doesn’t take chances when she and her husband ex-Navy SEAL Neil Mahoney travel. They think — and act — ahead, so they’re not completely disappointed if it doesn’t happen during the trip. “We always have sex the night before we leave for a family vacation, just in case,” says Pierce, the founder of three dance studios in Los Angeles. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t try.”

My husband and I didn’t have a strategy before we left L.A., but I did sneak sensual incidentals like lacy lingerie and a discreet bottle of lubricant into my suitcase. “Pack a sex toy too,” advises Morse, who says we’re more likely to be open to experimentation away from home. We agreed not to bring any work responsibilities on our trip. We’re both screenwriters, so we’re constantly polishing a script or crafting a pitch. I figured that by eliminating the stress of meeting deadlines, we upped the chances of having sex.

Lean into the hotel’s kid activities

Hotels and resorts see you, exhausted parents. Properties are upping their game for young guests with more exciting programming and cooler kids clubs. At the Ojai Valley Inn’s “night camp,” for instance, you can sign the children up for a scavenger hunt followed by dinner, a movie and s’mores. (Surely, that buys you enough time for a romp.) La Quinta Resort & Club in the desert offers junior pickleball clinics, along with massages and facials for tweens and teens up to age 15. At Alisal Ranch in Solvang, kids can hang out at the bar and paint horseshoes or take a riding lesson. Got littler ones? Some clubs, like Kidtopia at the Omni La Costa in Carlsbad, cater to infants (6 months and older) with nurseries on-site. Many hotels also offer babysitting services.

Note that clubs typically cater to the toddler-through-12 set. But there are exceptions, like the teen club at Grand Velas in Los Cabos that programs TikTok challenges, dance-offs at a dedicated nightclub with a DJ and karaoke events. At the Grand Wailea where we stayed, however, teens like my daughter Tess just side-eyed each other in the lobby. There was a family lounge on the property with darts and virtual reality, but it wasn’t a magnet for adolescents during our stay.

“We’re not comfortable getting sitters we don’t know on vacation,” says Pierce, who, instead, might pretend to leave the sunscreen in the room and put her teen daughter in charge to duck away from the hotel pool for a quickie with her husband. Or put the younger girls in a shared tub, but take the bath towels and mat so they can’t interrupt mom and dad in the bedroom. (Clearly, Pierce’s kids are way into self-care.)

For middle school teacher Vanessa Orellana — mom to a daughter, 6, and 1-year-old twins — the windows of opportunity for adult time on vacation call for quiet. “Between hotel beds that squeak and the in-laws’ walls, we’ve identified two golden windows for potential action: nap time and post-bedtime,” she says. “But even then, success is a coin toss. Our 8-year-old could pop up like a ninja, asking for water.”

Be flexible

Life happens, even on vacation. Prepare to pivot to plan B. My husband and I sent our daughter on an errand one morning at the 40-acre Maui resort, but she came back to fetch her AirPods and interrupted our marathon kiss. We shrugged it off and then held hands by the pool. Morse advises: “With kids, you may have to redefine intimacy on your trip. It could be flirting or even just making out after they go to bed.”

Pierce and her husband know their sex will be quick, if it happens at all. One dad of a toddler told me he and his husband have a ritual in which they text erotic messages to each other when they’re on vacation — and then promptly delete them. Just be sure to manage your expectations and laugh at any aborted attempts at intimacy.

“We’ve got an unspoken agreement: no guilt, no grumbling. Just a ‘to be continued’ knowing glance,” says Orellana. “It’s about connection, trust and keeping the spark alive through the sheer chaos of life with little humans.”

In the end, my husband and I did not get lucky. On our final night in Maui, we hit nearby award-winning restaurant Ko, where kids eat for 50% off. Unfortunately, a huge dinner of fresh crudo, lobster tempura, octopus and kobe beef — along with multiple desserts — made us shudder at the idea of any activity. So we had failed at our grand plan. But was our vacation ruined? Not at all. Ultimately, my family bonded in a way that doesn’t come easy with a teen. We swam with turtles, thrift-shopped around upcountry and held hands (for three whole seconds) while watching a sunset.

And on our first night back at home, my husband and I finally had sex. No fancy sheets or room service, but I did shout, “Aloooha!”

TEEN Mom star Cheyenne Floyd has revealed she’s pregnant with her third child on the show’s season premiere.

Teen Mom: The Next Chapter fans figured out the 32-year-old mom of two’s news ahead of time after catching a tell-tale detail in the background of the season finale teaser.

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Cheyenne is already mom to Ryder, 8, with ex Cory Wharton, and Ace, 3, with husband Zach Davis, whom she married in 2022.

On the finale’s last moments, Cheyenne tells the camera that she’s going to start fertility treatments in the coming days – but feels she needs to take a pregnancy test ahead of time.

“Oh my God, it says that I’m pregnant,” she says after taking two Clear Blue tests. “Oh my God, I’m shaking!”

In the next scene, she tells Ryder, who becomes so excited and emotional, she bursts into tears.

After the scene aired, Cheyenne announced her pregnancy to her fans on Instagram.

“And when we had nothing left to give, we surrendered it all to God,” she wrote.

“We told Him we couldn’t carry it anymore — and He answered.

“Not in our timing, but in His.

“This little life is proof that even in the waiting, even in the heartbreak, miracles are still being written.”

EMOTIONAL STRUGGLE

Her struggle to get pregnant with her third child was a focus of the show’s latest season.

“Zach and I have been trying to get pregnant for a year and a half now and just being told you’re not fertile, it just doesn’t work. It’s hard. It’s really hard,” she told Us Weekly.

“I just want to know, Why didn’t anybody tell me? I’m crying in the bathroom by myself and then calling my best friend.

“What do I do? It’s hard. It’s so hard. But that’s why I wanted to talk about it on the show, and the influx of messages that I’ve got from people that are like, ‘Thank you.’”

In a finale promo, the narrator promised one cast member would reveal their secret pregnancy on the episode.

Fans initially thought the star was Jade Cline, 27, who was two weeks late on her period and bought a pregnancy test on the previous episode.

But a eagle-eyed viewer caught that the pregnancy tests in the promo were placed on a counter that looked to be the same as those in Cheyenne and Zach’s Los Angeles home.

“Shout out to Zach for literally zooming in on the countertop in their house tour video,” a Reddit user said.

In another clue, Cheyenne recently covered up her stomach in a swimsuit on a recent trip to Turks & Caicos for friend Yris Palmer’s birthday.

Kylie Jenner was also on the trip, and spoiled the birthday girl with a massive $39k-a-night beach mansion.

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Natalia Bryant, the eldest daughter of late Los Angeles Lakers star Kobe Bryant, got an A-list round of applause online after she graduated Friday with honors from USC’s School of Cinematic Arts.

“Congratulations!! World is yours!!” actor Michael B. Jordan wrote on Natalia’s Instagram post while “Euphoria” actor Storm Reid shouted out, “gorg nani! proud of you.”

Jennifer Garner left hearts and clapping hands on the model’s post while Tina Knowles, Beyoncé’s mom, wrote, “Congratulations you make us all proud.”

“Gooo Nani Boo! So incredibly proud of you!!” singer Ciara wrote, ending her comment with a series of red hearts.

“Brava,” declared filmmaker Ava DuVernay. Eudoxie Bridges, the model and philanthropist who’s married to Ludacris, said, “Congratulations, beautiful.”

Writer-podcaster Jay Shetty, U.S. Olympic gymnast Nastia Liukin, reality star Kyle Richards, model Lily Aldridge and actor Lily Collins all offered kudos, with American fashion designer Solange Franklin Reed saying she was “so proud” of Bryant.

“Omgg! It IS YOUUU! Congrats my beautiful babyy!” Kimora Lee Simmons gushed. “My smart intelligent beautiful girl,” La La Anthony wrote.

“We’re so proud of you @nataliabryant!” proud mama Vanessa Bryant wrote in her caption of a photo of Natalia Bryant sitting by a fountain on the USC campus.

The 22-year-old attended the university’s main graduation ceremony Thursday night at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, according to pictures on her mom’s Instagram. Friday afternoon she collected her diploma when she walked in the film school’s graduation.

Her diploma was presented by Jeanie Buss, daughter of late Lakers owner Jerry Buss, who drafted Kobe Bryant straight out of high school when he was only 17.

For the Friday ceremony, Natalia Bryant wore a cream-colored, long-sleeve, high-neck minidress set off by a custom cardinal-and-gold stole, which featured her father’s sheath logo and acknowledged her cum laude status and membership in the Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority. On the back of the neck, “Thank You Mom & Dad” was embroidered on the stole.

Natalia Bryant was only 17 years old when her dad Kobe, 41, and sister Gianna,13, died on a foggy Sunday in January 2020 as the helicopter they were riding in crashed into a Calabasas hillside. Sister Bianka was 3 years old and sister Capri was 7 months old.

U.S. and UCLA gymnast Jordan Chiles is a two-time Olympian and three-time NCAA individual champion.

She looks completely comfortable in her own skin as she’s performing a floor routine to music by empowering artists like Beyoncé and proudly displaying the more than 20 “amazing art pieces” she has tattooed on her body.

For much of Chiles’ life, however, the body that helped propel her to athletic greatness made her feel “ugly” and self-conscious. But when she first saw photos of herself as a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model, “I literally started bawling my eyes out,” Chiles recently told People magazine.

U.S. and UCLA gymnast Jordan Chiles appears on the cover of the 2025 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue, on newsstands beginning May 17. The portrait was shot in Boca Raton, Fla., on Nov. 4.

(Ben Horton /Sports Illustrated / Contour by Getty Images)

Chiles said her mother, Gina, reacted similarly.

“My mom actually cried a few times from some of the photos because she’s been there literally every single moment of my life,” Chiles said, “so I think it was more of her realizing how beautiful her daughter is and what I’ve gone through.

“She was there when I would cry and be like, ‘Mom, they’re saying this. They’re saying that.’ Or I would look at myself in the mirror and call myself ugly almost every day. I think it was just really cool for her to know that I get this opportunity and that I get the ability to embrace who Jordan is.”

Chiles was a member of the U.S. Olympic squads that won team silver at the Tokyo Games in 2021 and team gold at the Paris Games last summer. Chiles was also awarded her first individual Olympic medal, a bronze in the floor exercise, in Paris but it was taken away because of a technicality.

At UCLA, Chiles won two national titles in the uneven bars (2023, 2025) and one on the floor (2023). She also finished second in the all-around competition in 2023 and helped the Bruins to a second-place overall finish this year. Chiles has already announced she will return to Westwood next year for her senior season.

When the 2025 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue hits newsstands on Saturday, Chiles will be one of four models appearing on her own cover (Olivia Dunne, Salma Hayek Pinault and Lauren Chan are the others). As opposed to how she felt looking at her own reflection years ago, Chiles said she is “in awe” after seeing herself on the front of the iconic magazine.

“I’ve embraced every single aspect of who I am and I’ve embraced the amazing body that I have,” Chiles said.