Is there anyone out there who doesn’t love Timothée Chalamet? I mean, besides the old-timer Oscar voter who recently told me he doesn’t like the young man’s “shenanigans.”
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. Calico Mine Ride or Timber Mountain Log Ride? That’s a 1A / 1B ranking decision. It all depends if I’ve just eaten a slice of boysenberry pie.
Now … back to Timothée …
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Did you catch any of the screenings during the American Cinematheque’s recent eight-film retrospective celebrating Chalamet’s career? Or perhaps you landed at the motion picture academy’s Samuel L. Goldwyn Theater on Monday when Chalamet was mobbed following a Q&A after a showing of “Marty Supreme” for guild voters.
If you witnessed a moment during this weeklong celebration — this Chalamania, if you will — you saw a young man whose talent as an actor is matched only by his genius at promotion.
And yet, there has been a lot of postulating that maybe one of the other nominated actors — Leonardo DiCaprio (“One Battle After Another”), Michael B. Jordan (“Sinners”), Ethan Hawke (“Blue Moon”) and Wagner Moura (“The Secret Agent”) — has a chance. You know … if things fall just the right way, there’s a path!
I get it. This year’s awards season has felt endless, and the Oscars are still more than three weeks away. Stories must be written, possibilities explored, no matter how remote.
But c’mon. Chalamet has this Oscar locked, just like “Hamnet” lead Jessie Buckley has owned the lead actress trophy since her movie premiered at Telluride in September. Admittedly, the lack of drama isn’t fun or exciting. Pine for an upset if you must, though it might be more fun to just surrender and celebrate Chalamet, a gifted actor and certified movie star who has stockpiled a remarkable body of work over the last decade.
This isn’t to say that you can’t make the case about who should win. DiCaprio continues to be one of our great comic actors and deserves attention just for the master class in phone acting he gives in “One Battle.” Moura carries “The Secret Agent” with an intense, brooding charisma that, one year shy of his 50th birthday, should push him to even greater recognition. Playing the desperate, despairing lyricist Lorenz Hart, Hawke empties his soul and his vocabulary, venting his way through the entirety of “Blue Moon.” And Jordan connects on the biggest swing of his career, playing twin brothers in “Sinners.”
So why is Chalamet winning in a walk? It’s a process of elimination. DiCaprio and Jordan are out as “Sinners” and “One Battle After Another” are ensemble films. (Even with the dual roles, Jordan is only in half the movie.) Moura’s work in “The Secret Agent” is sublime, but the Oscars rarely reward subtle acting. (This is a category that has gone to Rami Malek in “Bohemian Rhapsody,” Brendan Fraser in “The Whale” and Joaquin Phoenix in “Joker” in recent years.) And Hawke’s nomination is but one of two for “Blue Moon.” Not enough. Even the execrable “The Whale” managed three.
Chalamet already won the Golden Globe for performance by a male actor in a motion picture musical or comedy for “Marty Supreme.” Our columnist predicts an Oscar is next.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Meanwhile, Chalamet is Marty Supreme, the undeniably talented, relentless self-promoter careening toward his goals of fame and fortune with little regard to the damage he is inflicting on others. (That’s Marty, not Timothée.) Marty’s despicable, but also, as played by Chalamet, winningly charming.
No, you’re not supposed to like the guy, which, for voters who, say, blanched at supporting DiCaprio in “The Wolf of Wall Street,” might be a problem. But the academy has changed a lot since Scorsese’s wildly entertaining movie screened for academy members at the Goldwyn and an unnamed screenwriter, seeing Scorsese, DiCaprio, Jonah Hill and writer Terence Winter emerging from an elevator afterward, ran over to them and started screaming, “Shame on you!”
It’s true that not everyone embraces the anxiety-inducing cinema that is the brand of “Marty Supreme” co-writer and director Josh Safdie. Not everyone embraces Safdie himself, after a noisy tabloid story resurfaced allegations of a toxic work environment on the set of the 2017 film “Good Time,” which Safdie directed with his brother, Benny.
But that has nothing to do with Chalamet, who did not work on the movie, or his ferocious, frenetic work in “Marty Supreme.” The biggest knocks against Chalamet seem to be the unorthodox ways he goes about promoting his movie (and himself) and his age (he just turned 30). Historically, the lead actor Oscar goes to men with a few more miles on the odometer. Adrien Brody is the youngest winner, taking the trophy in 2003 for “The Pianist” when he was 29.
But, as noted earlier, things have changed since the film academy began greatly expanding its membership over the past decade. This new academy gave its best picture and three acting prizes to “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” a bonkers movie that embraced chaos, fingers made of hot dogs and sex toys used as weapons. The new academy just crowned indie auteur Sean Baker king of the world for “Anora,” a Cinderella story about a stripper and a Prince Charming who knows where to score the best ketamine in Vegas.
You think these voters are going to care that Chalamet hasn’t “paid his dues,” an idea that’s patently silly on its surface anyway as this is his third Oscar nomination? He’s the youngest actor to earn three Oscar nominations since Marlon Brando did it, at age 30, in 1954.
By the way, Brando won the Oscar that year for “On the Waterfront.”
The Last Kings of Hollywood: Coppola, Lucas, Spielberg—and the Battle for the Soul of American Cinema
By Paul Fischer Celadon Books: 480 pages, $32
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Paul Fischer showed “Jaws” to his daughter when she was 10. She wasn’t scared. In fact, she loved it so much that she dressed as Richard Dreyfuss’ Hooper for Halloween. To Fischer, who watched “Raiders of the Lost Ark” at age 4 (“I remember the melting heads but I don’t think I was traumatized”), it shows the staying power of some of the ’70s blockbusters.
“It’s the flip side of how these franchises became so massive and had such a long tail,” he said in a recent video call with The Times, discussing how each generation still finds “Star Wars,” “Raiders,” “E.T.,” “Jaws” and “The Godfather.” “They’ve created films that endured and that overshadow others.”
The narrative then follows their journeys from the late ’60s through the early ’80s, filling in the “ecosystem” the trio came up in and how they wanted to change the system to gain creative autonomy. Spielberg worked within the system, Coppola spent lavishly and even ostentatiously to build his own studio and Lucas found his independence through a quieter, more conservative and technology-driven route.
(Martin Scorsese, who was friends with the three and “the most interesting human being of that generation of filmmakers,” gets plenty of ink but was not a titular character, Fischer said, because he remained an outsider who just wanted to make movies, not change the system.)
“I’m not going to pretend I can tell you what was going on in their heads but I tried to make people feel like they were there when it happened,” Fischer said.
While none of the three men would be interviewed, Fischer had decades of quotes and conducted his own interviews with hundreds of people in the filmmakers’ orbits to get a fuller and more honest story. (He added that their representatives were uniformly helpful with fact-checking and providing photos. “There was never a door closed on me,” he said in an accidental reference to the final scene of “The Godfather.”)
Coppola, “who changed quite a bit, was the hardest one for me to pin down,” Fischer said. “There are layers of complexity to him and his willingness to treat the creative life as if it’s an experiment.” Blending that with his self-indulgent philandering and spending of money, he added, “you can change your mind about that guy every five minutes.”
During that era at least, Fischer said Lucas and Coppola seemed ”completely devoid of any self-awareness.” He chronicles how Coppola pressured Lucas to accept changes to his first feature, “THX 1138,” so the studio would release it while Lucas viewed that as Coppola pushing him to sell out. Meanwhile, Lucas was pushing Coppola to do a studio film for hire to keep his fledgling Zoetrope Studio afloat, making Coppola feel pressured to sell out. (That movie was “The Godfather,” so it worked out OK for Coppola.)
“They keep giving each other advice about how to do things and then betray that same advice when it applies themselves,” he said, although he added that he doesn’t “whip them for 300 pages for having giant egos,” and said it’s part of the recipe to be a visionary filmmaker, especially in the Hollywood studio system.
Ultimately, the book depicts Lucas as more of a sellout, acting like the studio suits he once detested as he pressures “The Empire Strikes Back” director Irvin Kershner to make changes, often based on budget and then focusing more on profitability as he conjured up characters like the Ewoks for “Return of the Jedi.” Fischer doesn’t believe Lucas would recognize that version of himself in the book. “He’s someone who lost his BS detector and has drunk his own Kool-Aid.”
In Fischer’s telling, the creative and business sides are interwoven and inseparable from each other and from the personal relationships — their friendships and rivalries with each other but also their relationships with those who worked for them or loved them.
“They were all able to do what they did because of wives or partners or friends or college classmates, who did a lot of the work without being household names,” he said. To fully tell the story, he devotes plenty of narrative space to Coppola’s wife Eleanor, and his most prominent mistress, Melissa Mathison, who later wrote “E.T.,” producer Kathleen Kennedy, who co-founded Amblin Entertainment with Spielberg, and Lucas’ wife, Marcia, who edited the first “Star Wars” trilogy (and Scorsese’s “Taxi Driver”).
“How did these guys break through? Well, they were middle-class white dudes and these women looked after some of this stuff they couldn’t,” Fischer said. “Those aren’t the only reasons these guys became who they did but without that, they probably [wouldn’t have].”
Fischer celebrates the three men’s vision and talents — he calls “The Godfather” “a perfect film” and says Spielberg “speaks the language of a camera better than anybody else”— but the book makes clear how often they got lucky or were saved from themselves.
If Coppola had spent his money more judiciously, he might not have done “The Godfather;” Lucas resisted hiring Harrison Ford to play Han Solo as well as Ford’s creative contributions; and if someone had bankrolled the first feature film Spielberg pitched before latching onto “Jaws” — “a sex comedy San Francisco Chinese laundry riff on Snow White” — it could have sunk his career.
Additionally, Lucas and Coppola’s friendship frayed when the latter snatched back the directing gig for a film he had long ago promised to his buddy. “But imagine George Lucas making some weird low-budget, ‘Battle of Algiers’ version of ‘Apocalypse Now’ in the back streets of Sacramento,” Fischer said. “That sounds pretty crappy. And we would have lost one of the great, novelistic experiential movies that we have.”
Lucas, meanwhile, dangled his idea for “Raiders of the Lost Ark” before Spielberg’s eyes, then told him that Philip Kaufman had dibs. “He’s a fine director but we would have lost something there too,” Fischer said. “There are these crossroads there but still there has got to be something special about these three or they couldn’t have had repeated successes like they did.”
Writing about their failures, foibles and frustrations did not lessen the hold that these three men and their movie magic have on Fischer. He recounts a story of his own connection to one film with undisguised delight and enthusiasm. After graduating film school at USC, he was producing a documentary (“Radioman”) in New York when he learned that “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” was doing some filming in Connecticut. “Obsessed,” he finagled his way onto the set and into a job. “All I did was turn off the air conditioning,” he said. “‘Roll camera,’ I flip it off. ‘Cut,’ I turn it on. I did that for four days. But when Harrison Ford walked by wearing that jacket, I was 5-years-old again. That was cool.”
Miller is a freelance writer in Brooklyn who frequently writes about movies.
Director Sang-il Lee sets his epic-scaled “Kokuho” in the vivid world of kabuki theater, but it’s not just the movie’s milieu that distinguishes it. Spanning 50 years and running nearly three hours, “Kokuho,” which has become Japan’s biggest live-action hit ever, evinces intensely mixed feelings about its two main characters’ quest for greatness. Kabuki is presented as an art form of balletic skill, but it can never fully redeem or repair the film’s central figures, who once were friends before ambition got in the way.
In 1964 Nagasaki, 14-year-old Kikuo (Soya Kurokawa) performs at a New Year’s event, impressing Hanjiro (Ken Watanabe), a beloved kabuki legend. But after Kikuo’s father, a yakuza crime boss, is murdered, Hanjiro takes the grieving teen under his wing. Soon, Hanjiro is training Kikuo and his own son Shunsuke (Keitatsu Koshiyama) in his Osaka studio to become “onnagata” — male kabuki actors who portray female characters. Both sweet and bashful, Kikuo and Shunsuke quickly grow close, enduring Hanjiro’s exacting requirements as he shapes them to be graceful, disciplined performers.
“Kokuho” then fast-forwards to the early 1970s as we meet the grown-up versions of Kikuo (Ryo Yoshizawa) and Shunsuke (Ryusei Yokohama). Now practically brothers, the young men are making their name as a well-regarded kabuki duo, but their personalities have begun to diverge. Kikuo remains soft-spoken, while Shunsuke is more of a partier and big talker, dominating their interviews with local journalists. Hanjiro still thinks highly of them both, although each pupil faces disadvantages. Kikuo is more gifted but in this nepotistic art form, being part of a respected kabuki lineage is crucial, something this yakuza scion doesn’t possess. Shunsuke, meanwhile, lacks his friend’s formidable technique, but because he’s Hanjiro’s son, his future prospects are practically assured. Kikuo and Shunsuke complement one another as performers but a shocking turn of events will sever their bond.
Adapting a novel by Shuichi Yoshida, Lee maps the arc of a friendship while exploring the minutiae of kabuki, both on stage and behind the scenes. (The movie’s Oscar-nominated makeup is an acknowledgment of the blinding-white face paint and bright red lipstick that kabuki actors wear to transform into their roles.) Much like ballet, kabuki necessitates precise choreographed actions: Not only does “Kokuho” provide generous samples of different kabuki pieces but also includes captions that list the title of the individual works and a brief synopsis. Rarely do these pieces directly echo the two men’s interpersonal drama, but the information adds context to the actors’ enchanting movements, which are backed by gorgeous outfits and striking set design that accentuate the mythical tales being played out.
Kikuo and Shunsuke’s fortunes shift over the decades — one of them will literally be kicked when he’s down on two separate occasions — but Lee doesn’t let us settle on a definitive impression of either performer. Our sympathies change as we witness both men’s failings as well as their enduring virtues. “Kokuho” is a hearty melodrama with a little bit of everything — sex scandals, betrayals, unlikely comebacks, health scares — but the film’s gaudy plot twists (which shouldn’t be spoiled) belie the filmmaker’s unsentimental attitude regarding stardom’s perils. Refreshingly, “Kokuho” is that rare film to be un-awed by talent alone. Both Kikuo and Shunsuke will enjoy high highs and low lows, but it’s their perseverance that ultimately means more than arbitrary benchmarks like “genius” or “brilliance.”
The film’s title translates to “national treasure,” another clichéd term thrown around when trying to categorize greatness. Kikuo and Shunsuke revere kabuki’s bygone giants, who are affixed with that moniker. But as “Kokuho’s” characters seek such an accolade for themselves, they come to realize how misleading it is. Yoshizawa and Yokohama bring abiding tenderness to their characters’ friendship while refusing to allow either protagonist to be reduced to a simple set of qualities. Kikuo’s delicate features suggest a pure soul, but Yoshizawa gradually reveals other sides to this gifted, haunted performer. And Yokohama ably depicts a privileged young man who rightly views his good fortune as both blessing and curse.
Their lives intersect, then disentangle, then return to each other’s orbit again. That elegant dance matches what we see on stage, the kabuki performances melding melancholy and beauty, anguish and catharsis.
Hello! I’m Mark Olsen. Welcome to another edition of your regular field guide to a world of Only Good Movies.
This week we lost two towering figures with the deaths of Robert Duvall and Frederick Wiseman.
Duvall, who died at 95 at his home in Virginia, was known as an actor for roles in films such as “The Godfather,” “Apocalypse Now,” “To Kill a Mockingbird” and countless more. As a director, his work included “The Apostle” and a handful of other projects.
Robert Duvall in the movie “Apocalypse Now.”
(CBS Photo Archive / Getty Images)
The movies team published a list of 10 of our favorite performances, including “Tender Mercies,” for which he won an Academy Award, as well as “Network,” “The Great Santini” and “Widows.”
Wiseman, who died at 96 in Cambridge, Mass., directed more than 45 documentary features beginning with 1967’s “Titicut Follies” on through 2023’s “Menus-Plaisirs — Les Troigros.” His work was known for its rigorous examinations of systems and institutions, giving viewers insights into why things functioned the way they did.
Frederick Wiseman, photographed at the Venice Film Festival in 2014.
(David Azia / Associated Press)
“The institution is also just an excuse to observe human behavior in somewhat defined conditions,” Wiseman told the Associated Press in 2020. “The films are as much about that as they are about institutions.”
Tribute screenings have already started to pop up in tribute to Duvall, with presumably more for both men on the way.
‘Sunshine’ in 35mm
Rose Byrne in the 2007 movie “Sunshine.”
(Alex Bailey / Twentieth Century Fox)
The collaboration between director Danny Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland has yielded an ongoing examination of societies in varying stages of collapse, lately in their recent revival of the “28 Years Later” series. Among their other works is 2007’s “Sunshine,” which, while seen as something of a disappointment on initial release, has only grown in esteem in the years since. The Academy Museum will screen the movie on 35mm Friday in the Ted Mann Theater.
In 2057, Earth is freezing as the sun has begun to die. An international crew of astronauts — including Cillian Murphy, Michelle Yeoh, Rose Byrne, Hiroyuki Sanada, Benedict Wong and Chris Evans — are dispatched with the improbable mission of reigniting the sun. When they encounter another ship along the way, things begin to go very wrong.
In his review, Kenneth Turan wrote, “Not reflected in a synopsis is the way screenwriter Garland has made ‘Sunshine’ a thoughtful genre film, one with philosophical concerns about God, man and morality. It’s not for nothing that Icarus’ talking computer echoes Hal of Stanley Kubrick’s ‘2001: A Space Odyssey.’ Garland and Boyle also have devoted time and effort to character psychology, to making the members of the Icarus’ crew into recognizable people and not Hollywood stick figures. … All these good things enable us to buy into ‘Sunshine’s’ story for a considerable span, creating a palpable tension that underlines that no one should feel safe in the far reaches of space.”
John Horn also wrote an extensive production story on the film. Referring to delays in the editing process, which caused a delay in the film’s release, Boyle said, “No director, unless they are contractually obligated, will ever go back and do a sequel set in space. When I finished it in January, I would have said no, it wasn’t worth it. Because I fell out with everybody. To make these movies, you have to be so uncompromising and scorch all of the ground in front of you.”
Slamdance Film Festival
Vondie Curtis-Hall in the movie “The Projectionist,” the opening night film of the 2026 Slamdance Film Festival.
(Slamdance Film Festival)
The Slamdance Film Festival has launched its second year in Los Angeles, running through Feb. 25 with screenings at the DGA, Landmark Sunset and 2220 Arts + Archives. The virtual edition of the festival will run from Feb. 24–March 6 on the Slamdance Channel.
The festival opened with the world premiere of Alexandre Rockwell’s “The Projectionist.” Starring Vondie Curtis-Hall along with Kasi Lemmons and Kevin Corrigan, the film tells the story of a lonely film projectionist confronting his past.
Rockwell, who, in 1992 won the Grand Jury prize at Sundance with “In the Soup,” lauded Slamdance as “a festival that embodies the vital spirit of independent film better than anywhere.”
Among other notable titles in this year’s program is “The Untitled Ruby Slippers Documentary” directed by Seth Gordon and Nikki Calabrese, the story of the theft and recovery of one of the most famous pieces of Hollywood movie memorabilia. Gordon’s “The King of Kong” premiered at Slamdance in 2007.
Points of interest
‘A Thousand and One’
Teyana Taylor in the movie “A Thousand and One.”
(Aaron Ricketts / Focus Features)
Teyana Taylor is an Oscar nominee for her performance in “One Battle After Another.” (She’s also a recent guest on “The Envelope” podcast.) She got that role after “One Battle” director Paul Thomas Anderson saw Taylor’s performance in “A Thousand and One,” written and directed by A.V. Rockwell. Vidiots will show the movie Saturday.
In the film Taylor plays Inez, recently released from jail in New York City and attempting to reconnect with her son who has been in the foster system. When an opportunity presents itself, she impulsively abducts him and tries to get them set up in a new life together.
In her review of the film, Katie Walsh noted that Taylor “brings to her astonishing performance the coiled physicality of a panther ready to pounce.” Walsh added, “The film is utterly absorbing, anchored by the unpredictable performance of Taylor, playing a hopelessly complicated, but deeply caring woman. When faced with dire circumstances, she survives, then dares to imagine a life for Terry beyond the cycle she’s experienced, forging a family unit she never had.”
Sonaiya Kelley spoke to both Rockwell and Taylor about the film. Taylor said of the part, “I was drawn to the role before I even read the whole script. … A lot of the emotions I put onto Inez were real emotions from real triggers.”
‘Dont Look Back’
Bob Dylan in the documentary “Dont Look Back.”
(Criterion Collection)
As part of an ongoing series, the Academy Museum will show D.A. Pennebaker’s 1967 “Dont Look Back” in the David Geffen Theater with doc director Joan Churchill in person to introduce the film.
A pioneering work of cinema verité, the film tags along on Bob Dylan’s 1965 tour of England, capturing a period of heady creative evolution. As Dylan plays a series of shows, he is also seen in various hotel rooms, cutting down journalists and others with a self-regarding wit.
As Charles Champlin said in his 1967 review, “The technical shortcomings deliberately enhance the atmosphere of claustrophobic chaos surrounding a pop idol on tour. And this, after all, is what the film is about. … [Dylan’s] milieu and its hangers-on are by no means uniformaly attractive. But after this skillful and exhaustive piece of film reportage, no one need ask what it and they and he are really like. The camera has become an X-ray.”
Trixie responds: “She thinks you’re old because you’re bald, Woody!”
The moment didn’t go unnoticed as one viewer commented: “If he is getting old, what does that mean about me?”
Another person said on X: “There was absolutely no reason to give Woody a bald spot.”
Somebody else commented: “Sad to see Woody is going bald.”
Yet another penned: “Woody having a lil bald spot is making me sad.”
While a fifth added: “It’s okay Woody. We all understand and sympathise. I too have a bald spot back there that is slowly turning into a tropical hurricane.”
The synopsis of the film reads: “The toys are back and this time, Buzz Lightyear, Woody, Jessie and the rest of the gang’s jobs are challenged when they come face-to-face with Lilypad (voice of Greta Lee), a brand-new tablet device that arrives with her own disruptive ideas about what is best for their kid, Bonnie. Will playtime ever be the same?”
The fifth film was first announced back in 2023 along with sequels for Frozen and Zootopia.
Disney’s CEO, Bob Iger expressed: “I’m so pleased to announce that we have sequels in the works from our animation studios to some of our most popular franchises – Toy Story, Frozen and Zootopia.
“We’ll have more to share about these productions soon, but this is a great example of how we’re leaning into our unrivalled brands and franchises.”
Several stars from the first films are back, including Tom Hanks as Woody, Tim Allen as Buzz, John Ratzenberger as Hamm, Wallace Shawn as Rex, Blake Clark as Slinky Dog, Annie Potts as Bo Peep and Joan Cusack as Jessie.
Among the newcomers are Scarlett Spears as the new voice of Bonnie, Craig Robinson as GPS hippo toy Atlas, Shelby Rabara as excitable camera toy Snappy, Mykal-Michelle Harris as Blaze, Conan O’Brien as Smarty Pants, and Matty Matheson as tech-fearing toy Dr Nutcase.
The first Pixar film released back in 1995, followed by Toy Story 2 in 1999 and Toy Story 3 in 2010.
The fourth instalment came out in 2010 and a spin-off of Buzz Lightyear’s character was released in 2022.
Toy Story 5 releases in cinemas on June 19
The gang are back yet again for even more mischiefCredit: Alamy
Tom Noonan, a character actor and filmmaker known for playing villains in “Manhunter” and “The Last Action Hero,” died on Valentine’s Day. He was 74.
The death was confirmed by Fred Dekker, director of “The Monster Squad,” who wrote on Facebook, “Tom’s indelible performance as Frankenstein … is a highlight of my modest filmography.”
Noonan had a nearly 40-year career on TV and in film, making his mark with a role in “Manhunter,” the 1986 movie based on a Thomas Harris novel.
In “Manhunter,” which starred William Peterson of “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” as an FBI agent and “Succession” star Brian Cox as Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Noonan played Francis Dolarhyde, the serial killer also known as the Tooth Fairy. It was a performance that “knocked out” Dekker, who then pursued Noonan for “Monster Squad.”
Playing a killer wasn’t unusual for Noonan, who stood 6-foot-5 or 6-foot-6, depending on who you trust. On a 2013 episode of TV’s “The Blacklist,” he played “the Stewmaker,” a man with a taste for dissolving human bodies in acid. In the 1993 comedy “The Last Action Hero” he was the Ripper, a fictional nemesis who comes to life in the high-concept film-within-a-film starring Arnold Schwarzenegger as action star Jack Slater.
Born in Greenwich, Conn., on April 12, 1951, Noonan was raised by his math-teacher mother Rita and a large extended family after the death of his father, John Ford Noonan Sr. He went to school at Yale Drama and later founded New York’s Paradise Factory theater with Jack Kruger at the site of the Paradise Ice Cream Factory, where the ice cream cone was invented. The two built a theater and rehearsal rooms where the condemned building stood.
Paradise Factory now bills itself as “bringing the rigor of theatrical discipline to the process of cinematic art, and bringing the intimacy and immediacy of the cinema into theatrical performance art.”
“I wish I had more success as an actor,” the New York-based actor told The Times with a dash of melancholy in 2015. “I think people call me because they’re channel surfing late at night and they see me in a movie on cable.”
In that story, about the actor and his friend and collaborator Charlie Kaufman and Kaufman’s stop-motion animation film “Anomalisa,” a Times staff writer described Noonan: “Like Kaufman, he has a dark worldview, an idiosyncratic sensibility, blackly comic thoughts and, at times, an endearing crankiness.”
In “Anomalisa,” Noonan was credited with playing “Everyone Else” — and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Jennifer Jason Leigh and David Thewlis played the leads; Noonan voiced more than 40 other roles in the film.
“Even I can’t tell if it’s me sometimes,” he told The Times in 2015 about the extensive studio-recording process. “I mean, I recognize the voice, but I’m not sure where it came from.”
“My first TV interview was with Tom Noonan for a local NYC show called MIDDAY(?),” actor Jerry O’Connell wrote early Wednesday on Instagram, including a blurry image of them on the show’s set. “I was so nervous. Tom was so kind. I saw him in every (NYC) play he was in after. He bought my brother and I tickets to Eddie Murphy’s RAW (we were too young to purchase). Btw, on this episode, I was talking about a movie about to come out (Stand By Me) and Mr. Noonan was talking about his movie (Manhunter). Rest In Peace LEGEND.”
Noonan appeared in the famous 1980 flop “Heaven’s Gate” and cast a creepy gothic shadow decades later in “The House of the Devil” (2009). He was a ghoulish host of a late-night television horror program in the 2005 vampire movie “The Roost,” then played a wagon-train missionary in the 2007 western “Seraphim Falls.”
In 18 episodes of the series “Hell on Wheels,” which ran for five seasons on AMC, he was the Rev. Nathaniel Cole. Other TV credits included episodes of Fox’s “The X-Files,” HBO’s “The Leftovers,” CBS’ “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” and the Louis C.K. series “Louie” (FX) and “Horace and Pete.”
Noonan’s half-dozen directing credits include the 1994 film “What Happened Was …,” which was produced as a play, then became a movie and then won the Sundance Grand Jury Prize for dramatic feature. In addition to writing and directing the movie, Noonan played the lead male role opposite actor Karen Sillas. Noonan also won Sundance’s Waldo Salt screenwriting award for the script.
The next year, his feature “The Wife” — a dark comedy once again written, directed by and starring Noonan — was a nominee for the same Sundance Grand Jury Prize. Described by the New York Times as a “bleakly funny evisceration of modern marriage,” the movie co-starred Karen Young, who was Noonan’s wife from 1992 to 1999.
And Noonan’s 2015 movie “The Shape of Something Squashed” was born out of confusion and some despair after his agent called him with what initially looked like a part in one of the “Mockingjay” installments of “The Hunger Games” franchise. When he got the script, though, he saw only one role for someone his age, and that job — playing President Snow — already belonged to Donald Sutherland.
Turns out there never had been a part in the offing. Sutherland was just busy, and Jennifer Lawrence and the rest of the “Hunger Games” cast needed someone to rehearse with them for a week.
After recovering from a brief emotional tailspin, Noonan knocked out the script for “The Shape of Something Squashed” — then directed and acted in the film.
He was preceded in death by his older brother, “A Coupla White Chicks Sitting Around Talking” playwright John Ford Noonan Jr., who died in 2018 at age 77.
Former Times staff writer Steve Zeitchik contributed to this report.
“How to Make a Killing” boasts an opening so strong that it buys enough audience goodwill to coast through nearly its entire running time. That’s priceless in a screwball murder movie in which everyone’s soul is for sale.
Death row inmate Becket Redfellow (Glen Powell) is four hours away from execution. A priest (Sean C. Michael) solemnly arrives to take his final confession and finds the condemned man lounging in a sleeping eye mask, griping that his last meal served him the wrong flavor of cheesecake. “Kill me now,” Becket quips.
This will be a tale of crime and punishment told in flashback, rewinding to Becket’s mother, an heiress excised from an eleven-figure fortune for giving birth as an unwed teenager. And it will be, as Becket insists, “a tragedy.”
But while the story’s framework is familiar, what gives this intro sequence zip is Powell’s sly nonchalance, the little bounce he makes on his cot when Becket pivots to give the flabbergasted priest his full attention. He has ours, too. Powell has yet to find his perfect role (this one’s close) but his confidence is why the industry is convinced that he’s the reincarnation of a classic leading man: Tom Cruise or Cary Grant if we’re lucky, or at least Bugs Bunny.
Writer-director John Patton Ford’s morally bleak comedy is itself a reincarnation of the 1949 British caper “Kind Hearts and Coronets,” which egged on an exiled sire as he avenges himself upon his royal family by murdering everyone between himself and dukedom. The 21st century American privilege that Becket is chasing in the remake doesn’t rely on formal titles. He wants cold hard cash, plus a couple of private islands, planes and ultra-luxury yachts. Besides, he’s already got a first name that sounds like a last name, signifying the American upper crust.
This Dickensian vengeance setup gives us an awful lot of people to murder, all caricatures of the elite. The original “Coronets” offed a posh feminist who scattered political leaflets across London from a hot air balloon, Ford spins that passé joke into a gag where Becket’s spoiled cousin (Raff Law) hovers in a helicopter sprinkling money over a pool party and then for good measure, cannonballs into the water to stuff bills in the crowd’s open and appreciative mouths. (For his next trick, perhaps Ford will remake Terry Southern’s outlandish satire “The Magic Christian,” which has a scene like that but five times filthier.)
Lore goes that when Alec Guinness received the “Coronets” script with an offer to play four of the ill-fated tycoons, he wrote back greedily and said, “Why not eight?” To our good fortune, Guinness did play all eight, even the suffragette. “How to Make a Killing” shares the wealth, giving cameos to a very funny Zach Woods as the scion who fancies himself a hipster artist (he takes photos of the unhoused) and Topher Grace as the Redfellow who found faith or, rather, a more sanctimonious spin on grift as a megachurch pastor. Likening himself to Jesus, Grace’s bleached blond huffs, “Don’t hate on me just because my dad’s a big deal.”
There’s a tease of real-world critique in how the preacher has decorated his office with framed photos of himself with various presidents and drug-runners, alluding to the inescapable suspicion that the world is run by a powerful club whose only admissions requirement is a bank balance with plenty of zeros. The jabs stop at allusions — they’re entertaining but as thin as a communion wafer. Still, I guffawed when Becket popped back into his present-day cell to poke fun at his audience, the Catholic priest: “The last thing the Church wanted was an investigation,” he says with a smirk. “I’m sure you know all about that.”
Like his lead character, Ford himself had to ascend in clout to direct this script, which he launched on the Black List in 2014. He instead made his debut with the much-smaller 2022 indie “Emily the Criminal,” which starred Aubrey Plaza as an art student desperate to pay off her student loans. His heart is with the strivers who find that our K-shaped economy makes it impossible to go straight.
Yet he hasn’t cracked whether the corpses in “How to Make a Killing” are victims themselves. The rich Redfellows get dispatched one by one in scenes that are fun but empty — neither cathartic nor comic, simply boxes to be checked off to great big poundings of thunder and harpsichords.
Surely, I thought, the film will figure out how it feels by the time it offs a Redfellow who’s merely ordinary-terrible: Bill Camp’s drunken, cowardly banker. But it doesn’t and the real victim of the indecision is Powell, who is rarely given a reaction to play. (Guilt? Rage? Glee?) He needs to give us an extra hint how he’s feeling — as an actor, Powell is so slick that even his regular smile comes across phony. I’d say he couldn’t be sincere if he tried, except Powell actually does try for one scene and the bleary, terrified look in his eyes is devastating.
While the promise of that gangbusters opening sequence goes a tad unfulfilled, “Killing” has two strong twists and plenty of reasons to enjoy the romp. I suspect that the movie might be too smart for its own good, or perhaps hemmed in by a cynicism that, everywhere we look lately, it appears that crime does pay. As Becket says early on, “We’re all adults here.” Ford sees all the wrong moves and isn’t sure-footed in choosing the right one, even though I think he has. Today’s crowd wants to smash Marie Antoinette’s cake and eat it, too.
At least along the way, there’s a playful love triangle between Julia (Margaret Qualley), the privileged nightmare who’s had Becket wrapped around her pinky finger since grade school, and Ruth (Jessica Henwick), a humble school teacher. Both characters stake out their polarized corners — the rich bitch versus the sweetheart — with Qualley somehow always arranging her legs to be seductively horizontal in her too-few scenes. Henwick is saddled with the more prosaic role and dialogue (“It’s scary to dream small,” she says). Nevertheless, her presence is so compelling that we root for Ruth every time she’s onscreen.
I’m glad that Ford is part of today’s guillotine crew making capers about economic inequality. But the best shot in the movie shows his promise as a romantic comedian: Becket and Ruth bump into each other in the rain and just as they make eye contact, the sun comes out and they share a smile. It’s a tiny moment of magic that gives you hope that these young lovers can work it out. Better still, it even gives you hope for humanity, even if the movie’s overall forecast for society is stormy.
‘How to Make a Killing’
Rated: Rated R, for language and some violence/bloody images
From “The Godfather,” “Apocalypse Now” and “Network” to “Widows,” these films capture the flinty grace of the Oscar winner, a combustible screen presence.
A new artificial intelligence video generator from Beijing-based ByteDance, the creator of TikTok, is drawing the ire of Hollywood organizations that say Seedance 2.0 “blatantly” violates copyright and uses the likeness of actors and others without permission.
Seedance 2.0, which is available only in China for now, lets users generate high-quality AI videos using simple text prompts. The tool quickly gained condemnation from the movie and TV industry.
The Motion Picture Assn. said Seedance 2.0 “has engaged in unauthorized use of U.S. copyrighted works on a massive scale.”
“By launching a service that operates without meaningful safeguards against infringement, ByteDance is disregarding well-established copyright law that protects the rights of creators and underpins millions of American jobs. ByteDance should immediately cease its infringing activity,” Charles Rivkin, chairman and chief executive of the MPA, said in a statement Tuesday.
Screenwriter Rhett Rheese, who wrote the “Deadpool” movies, said on social media last week that “I hate to say it. It’s likely over for us.” His post was in response to Irish director Ruairí Robinson’s post of a Seedance 2.0 video that shows AI versions of Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt fighting in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
Actors union SAG-AFTRA said Friday it “stands with the studios in condemning the blatant infringement” enabled by Seedance 2.0.
“The infringement includes the unauthorized use of our members’ voices and likenesses. This is unacceptable and undercuts the ability of human talent to earn a livelihood,” SAG-AFTRA said in a statement. “Seedance 2.0 disregards law, ethics, industry standards and basic principles of consent. Responsible AI development demands responsibility, and that is nonexistent here.”
ByteDance said in a statement Sunday that it respects intellectual property rights.
“[We] have heard the concerns regarding Seedance 2.0. We are taking steps to strengthen current safeguards as we work to prevent the unauthorized use of intellectual property and likeness by users,” the company said.
The dispute comes a month after ByteDance finalized a deal to secure TikTok’s future in America. ByteDance agreed to divest majority ownership of U.S. operations to an American-led investor group, averting a shutdown of the hugely popular social media app.
President Trump during his first term sought to ban the platform, citing national security concerns, but he shifted his views after ByteDance agreed to the new joint venture.
The venture now has three managing investors: Silver Lake, Oracle and Emirati investment firm MGX, each holding 15%, with ByteDance retaining 19.9% of investments.
Ortutay writes for the Associated Press. Times Staff writer Cerys Davies contributed to this report.
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times, host of The Envelope newsletter and the guy wondering about the profit margin on a $6 churro.
In the meantime, welcome back to the newsletter as we push through to the Oscars on March 15. Have you been catching up on the nominated movies? “Sentimental Value” is a delight … though just how delightful has been the subject of some debate.
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Its primary quartet of actors — Stellan Skarsgård as a legendary director angling for a comeback, Renate Reinsve and Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas as his daughters and Elle Fanning as an A-list actor who becomes entangled in the family drama — all received nods. Fanning’s name was the first called when nominations were announced, signaling that Scandinavian melancholy would be notably absent that morning. Never mind the hour: Champagne glasses were raised.
The celebratory scene stood in stark contrast to the vibe just two weeks earlier when “Sentimental Value” was blanked at the Actor Awards (formerly known as the Screen Actors Guild Awards). And it wasn’t the only international film ignored. The 2,500 SAG-AFTRA nomination committee voters also shunned Wagner Moura, the lead of celebrated Brazilian drama “The Secret Agent.” Moura went on to nab an Oscar nomination, one of four noms, including best picture, that Kleber Mendonça Filho’s drama earned.
The disparity between the choices of the motion picture academy and SAG-AFTRA could be an anomaly. Or it might be the latest evidence of an Oscar trend this decade. As the academy’s membership has become more global — 24% of Oscar voters live outside the United States — the Academy Awards have become increasingly an international affair, leading to a widening divide with the Hollywood guilds.
Is this a bad thing? It depends who you ask. If you queried the actors that SAG-AFTRA nominated who ended up being Oscar also-rans, the answer would be no. Those who believe that cinema is global, particularly now that American studios have largely abandoned making movies geared toward grown-ups, would have a different response.
“The fact that not one international film got in says a lot,” says a veteran awards consultant, who, like others interviewed, requested anonymity in order to speak freely about the industry. Indeed, one journalist tabbed SAG’s Actor Awards nominations the “‘America First’ List,” which, while technically accurate, might have taken the perceived xenophobia a bit far.
“The SAG Awards or Actor Awards — whatever they’re called now — are in danger of looking like a middlebrow affair,” another awards campaigner notes. “I know this is going to sound elitist, but it’s true. There’s a big difference between an organization where you have to be invited or apply to join versus one where, if you’re a disc jockey in Kansas City, you have voting rights.”
To be fair, DJs, Kansas City-based or otherwise, probably don’t vote for the Actor Awards’ nominations — just for the final awards. In the nominations round, 2,500 randomly selected active SAG-AFTRA members make the choices. To serve on the committee, members must be categorized as an actor/performer, dancer, singer or stuntperson in the SAG-AFTRA database. Could a DJ be classified as a performer? Probably not. In the guild’s view, actor and performer are synonymous, encompassing both principal and background players.
And sure, since only 7% of SAG-AFTRA actors and performers earn $80,000 or more a year, that means there are going to be a few full-time waiters on those nomination committees. But as the speeches at the Actor Awards remind us annually, it’s a profession where you’re just one job away from making it. Think of Connor Storrie, who worked at restaurants for eight years before getting his break on “Heated Rivalry.”
There’s still the question of why, say, SAG-AFTRA dancers and singers are voting on the merits of an acting performance, however. In contrast to the Actor Awards, nominations for the Oscars are decided by the academy’s various branches. Actors vote for actors, writers for screenplays and so on, with the general membership voting for best picture.
“Peer groups are deciding what’s worthy, and that’s the way it should be,” says an academy member from the public relations branch. “I’m not voting for visual effects.”
Not initially, at least. Academy members vote for all 24 categories in the final round, provided, per a rule change that went into effect this year, they attest to watching all the nominated work in the category.
SAG-AFTRA voters have rewarded non-English-language work over the years, but usually when a particular film or TV show — Bong Joon Ho’s 2019 masterpiece “Parasite” or Netflix’s “Squid Game” — is undeniable. Voters ignored recent lead turns from Fernanda Torres (“I’m Still Here”), Yalitza Aparicio (“Roma”) and Sandra Hüller (“Anatomy of a Fall”). All three went on to earn lead actress Oscar nominations.
This year’s snubbing of “Sentimental Value” is particularly puzzling as the movie featured well-known actors like Fanning and Skarsgård, an institution from roles in blockbuster franchises like “Pirates of the Caribbean” and most recently the TV series “Andor.” It’s also a film about, among other things, the blurring of art and reality and the challenges of acting. And, in the scenes featuring Fanning, it’s in English.
What gives? Like every other contender, “Sentimental Value” screened four times for voters and was available for streaming.
“I just think people are less inclined to watch a movie with subtitles at home,” says one awards consultant, alluding to the ways that passive, multiscreen viewing has encroached upon our multitasking lives. Maybe that’s why Skarsgård, when he accepted the Golden Globe award for his work in the movie, preached that “cinema should be seen in cinemas” in his speech.
Does that sound elitist? It shouldn’t. But it does seem to be a belief from a time that’s slipping away. One certainty: With the academy nominating two international features for best picture for the third straight year, global cinema is now entrenched at the Oscars. Whether SAG-AFTRA voters decide to join the party is now a question for next year.
In this episode of The Envelope video podcast, Teyana Taylor describes the “slingshot” of success that’s come with “One Battle After Another” and shares her insights as to why fictional revolutionary Perfidia Beverly Hills does what she does in the film.
Kelvin Washington: Hello, everyone, and welcome back to The Envelope. Kelvin Washington, Yvonne Villarreal, we have Mark Olsen as well. Hopefully you all have been great since the last time I saw you. Everybody been good?
Mark Olsen: Of course.
Washington: Well, I tell you what, there’s a list of folks who’ve been very good because they’ve been nominated for an Oscar. And obviously, you kind of get the usual suspects, if you will. And then you get some surprises out there. Some folks you go, “Whoa!” So I want to start with you. Either of you can jump in on this. Is there someone that maybe surprised you, a film or something that you were just excited about or maybe someone said, “Them again?” or “That film again?”
Olsen: I think it was very exciting that “Sinners” got the most nominations of any film ever with 16 nominations. It was nominated in every category that it was eligible for. To see a movie that has had commercial success and felt like a cultural moment now being recognized somewhere like the Academy Awards, it’s just exciting to see that all coming together and rolling along for that film, regardless of how it turns out at the show.
Villarreal: I was very excited to see Rose Byrne get acknowledged for “If I Had Legs I’d Kick You.” Because I was worried about that movie losing steam after all the raves it got at Sundance [in 2025] and it’s a smaller movie. I wasn’t sure, “Are people going to remember it?” But I just think she’s so great in that film.
I was sort of surprised that Chase Infiniti didn’t get nominated.
Olsen: Because of the nature of the movie, the whole lead/supporting business was tough, and also it being her first movie, it’s a little harder to get that nomination — especially in lead actress, faced with, say, Kate Hudson, someone who’s been in the business for a long time, is much beloved in the industry, has obviously family historical ties to Hollywood. It’s interesting to see even in the nominations this sort of alchemy of like, “a little of this, a little bit of that” as far as who the academy was choosing to recognize.
Washington: You know, I go back to something you said, Mark, when you go to “Sinners.” You mentioned the blockbuster feel of it, getting people’s butts to the theaters, spending money. And also kind of original. We’ve had vampire movies before, but, you know, you get the “Transformer 12’s” and “Expendable 32’s.” I think a lot of folks were excited to see something original that also had commercial success as well.
Another film that had a bunch of success is “One Battle After Another.” You had a chance to speak with a star from that film, who’s been a star in her own right musically, but now into the film world, with Teyana Taylor.
Olsen: That’s right. It’s so exciting. She’s nominated for best supporting actress. This is a long movie, it’s over two and a half hours long. She more or less exits the picture about 30 minutes in. So I think it says something about the strength of her performance that her character kind of hovers over the rest of that movie. You feel her in the movie, even though she’s actually not onscreen. So at the Oscar nominees luncheon recently, we had a chance to sit down with Teyana and she was just so vibrant, so full of energy, really has a great attitude about this moment for herself. I mean, she just recently won a Golden Globe, she hosted “Saturday Night Live.” So much is like happening for her, seemingly right now and she’s just got this real like, taking it all in, very open to it [attitude]. It was really an exciting conversation.
Washington: A culmination of all her hard work. Here is Mark’s conversation with Teyana Taylor.
Teyana Taylor.
(Ian Spanier / For The Times)
Mark Olsen: You were just at the Super Bowl. About a week before that, you were a nominee at the Grammys. About a week before that you hosted “Saturday Night Live.” About a week before that you won a Golden Globe. And you’re here today as an Academy Award nominee. I’m sure I’m leaving some things out. I would say what’s the last year been like for you, but I feel like, what’s the last month or two been like for you? It feels like the rocket ship has really taken off.
Teyana Taylor: Yeah, it’s really taken off. I’m so blessed and I’m so honored and I’m filled with so much gratitude to just see so many prayers get answered all at once, where I’m also OK with one at a time. But it’s all happening, you know? And I’m just beyond blessed. And like we were talking about earlier, just how much fun I’m having with it. I’m really having a good time and I’m taking it all in because life is short and life is so fragile. So I just try and take time to enjoy life and enjoy my blessings and enjoy just being alive and well.
Olsen: Has there been a moment that felt the most surreal, like a “What is happening to me right now” moment?
Taylor: Honestly, all of it, because it reminds me of a slingshot, you know what I’m saying? It’s just like, here’s the way, here’s the way, here’s the way, here’s the way, here’s the work, here’s the prayers, here’s the tears, just here, here, here, here, here. And then whoosh — whatever the ball hit, it knocked down everything at once. And that’s what this feels like. It feels really good because literally everything is happening at the same time. So it’s not like only one moment or only two moments that’s making me feel this way. It’s everything. The small wins, the big wins, the medium wins. Every single win and every single blessing is a big deal to me. You know what I’m saying? Even my Ls. I’m not gonna win everything and I’m not gonna get everything, and some things are not even meant for me. But even those are blessings. It’s preparation for something that is in store for me and something that is meant for me, because all of this is already written. What’s for you is for you and will be for you, because that’s just what’s written. So I have that mindset.
Olsen: You’ve been doing this since you were a teenager, at first as a choreographer and a dancer, a singer, an actor, you’re going to direct your first feature soon. What keeps you moving through all of this, through these different disciplines and pursuits?
Taylor: My babies. My support system. My village. My community. I love to make my people proud. I love to make my peers proud, my family. I just love to make everybody proud and that’s what keeps me going. Even right now, I’m also in culinary school. So it’s just juggling that, but taking out the little moments to just be quiet and cook and feed my people. So it’s a push. It’s understanding it’s a marathon and that it’s not a sprint. It’s a part of the faith walk. And I think that’s what keeps me going, to wake up and feel so blessed, how could I ever complain? How could I ever be like, “Oh, this is too much”? It is everything I’ve ever asked for. I’m never going to complain about answered prayers. What pushes me is just the reassurance from my support system, the reassurance from Father God himself, the reassurance for my babies. They keep me going. That’s who I do it for. I want to create generational wealth. So them babies are my reason. They are my why.
Olsen: To start asking you about “One Battle After Another,” your character, Perfidia Beverly Hills, she’s inspired a lot of conversation and some controversy. For you, was there something about that character that you felt you hadn’t seen on screen before?
Taylor: Yes. Perfidia is complex and she is also misunderstood. This is a woman who has been in survival mode, who has been fetishized, who has been ignored, not seen. We’re seeing this woman deal with that, where in movies we’re used to seeing us women have to be in capes all day and you see this woman rip this cape away and it’s just unapologetically herself — even in her weakness. And even like you said, with the controversy of her sexuality, I think her sexuality is her armor. It is also her power. She’ll give somebody what they want to get what she wants. And literally in the movie, she’s made selfish decisions. But if you think about her spirit and mentally and emotionally as a woman, it felt good to see a woman actually be selfish and put her[self] first, which we never really get to do because we have to be super this, super this, super this. Super mom, super wife, super woman, super chef; everything is always with a super in front of it. And you see this woman not really caring about what people think. Nobody can quiet her. And in this space of, “OK, you’re too loud, quiet down; you stand too tall, have a seat,” Perfidia is all of the things that they can’t make her do. She’s like, “I’m gonna stand tall, I’m gonna use my voice, I’m gonna use whatever I need to use to get what I want.” And she makes decisions that we don’t agree with, but I think one thing we all can agree on is that she’s a badass. And I can always respect anybody that’s unapologetically themselves.
Another thing that I feel like the controversy is proof of is how much of a nonfactor postpartum depression is. Half of the mistakes we see Perfidia make is her dealing with postpartum depression. You see the moment where they say, “Perfida, she’s a runner. She comes from a long line of revolutionaries.” That in itself is a pressure on her to feel like she gotta keep that going. The revolution is instilled in her. It’s a part of her identity. So imagine getting pregnant and you’re feeling like, “Oh, my God, does this slow down the revolution? Am I gonna play house with a person that’s ignoring me?” Nobody is really taking the time to think about what’s happening in her mind. We can’t control how a person handles postpartum depression. We hear her, through the door, cry, and then we see Bob put his ear to the door — and instead of him walking in, he walked away. And then what was the result of that? Her walking away. Even if it had to be walking away from Baby Willa, it’s something that she felt like she needed to do, and that’s what postpartum make you do sometime. And every mother handles postpartrum depression differently. But I think that’s what I love about her character, because you get to see a harsh reality that I know is hard to take in. But when you watch it a few times you understand exactly what’s happening. … I think that’s what makes the letter at the end so important. Because you hear the pain, you hear the hurt, you hear the regret, you hear the accountability, “Do you have love? Are you happy? Will you try and change the world like we did? We failed, but maybe you will not.”
And that’s another thing. This is a story that Paul Thomas Anderson wanted to tell. It was Perfidia’s job to go and anchor this boat and stay there and create the path for Willa to take on these battles, because her past haunted Willa and Bob. That’s a part of Perfidia being supporting — supporting the next steps of what is for Willa. It’s for Willa to go on and to rise. So you see Perfidia in the beginning of the movie, you see her drive this boat, you see her get to the middle of the sea and you see her anchor herself. And from there, we have to continue the story. So I’m happy that the controversy around her can create dialogue like this, can create healthy dialogue or even uncomfortable dialogue. As long as it’s dialogue and we’re conversing and we are speaking and people are speaking from their point of views, I can absolutely respect that.
Olsen: Is that a conversation you expected to have? When you were making the film, were you and Paul, or you and your co-stars talking about the depiction of Black women in the movie? Or have you been surprised that’s been such a talking point now that the movie’s out in the world?
Taylor: Honestly, I’m not surprised of any of the talking. I think one thing that I said before the movie even dropped and we were doing our press junkets, I was always very boisterous about the fact that this movie, period, not just the character, would definitely shake the table, and it would definitely spark, whether it was great debates or — I love conversation and I like when we can converse. Get it off your chest, tell me how you feel. And I’m open to receive that. So I knew that it would shake the table. I also knew that it needed to be done. Postpartum depression is a big thing for me that I feel like it needs more light. It needs light around it. We need more solutions for it. And like I said, you see this person, this woman in survival mode. You see this woman be ignored. You see this woman be fetishized. And is that not the truth? Is that not what happens, especially in this place of a Black woman feeling the least protected? So I’m really happy that Paul put wings on that to be able to spread and fly with that. And like I said, I know it’s probably tough to take in, but that’s what we got to see because everybody is not wearing capes. Everybody is not handling things the way you may handle things, I may handle the things, the way that person or this person may handle things. So we all just got to give grace and take in the film. It’s a story that’s being told.
Olsen: To me, one of the biggest surprises about the movie is considering how cohesive and complete it feels, to learn how improvisatory and collaborative the process of making the movie was. Were you surprised by that? What was it like for you entering into the process of making this movie with Paul?
Taylor: I was shocked at how collaborative it was. And I loved every bit of it because one thing about it is, again, when you are telling a story that someone wrote — he’s been working on this project for 20 years. This is something that I consider to be his baby. And when you’re trusting me to take on a job like this, I don’t ever wanna walk into any set and feel like I’m doing what I want to do. I just want to be of good support. If you tell me, “Hey, let’s find this together,” I’m gonna find it together. If you say, “This is my vision of what that is and this is how I want it to be,” it’s my job to give you that vision of what you want it be, and then add my little sauce on top of it. But to be fully collaborative, I thought it was really dope. We found Perfidia’s layers and we color-coordinated those layers. And I’m really happy that he let me be a part of that.
Olsen: What do you feel you brought to Perfidia or you were able to add to the character?
Taylor: I was able to add a lot. Paul was very, very collaborative. And again, we found her layers, which was the most important, especially with such a complex character. And you know, I just came from “A Thousand and One.” So I came from being another complex character, but this one was complex to a whole other level, where we almost didn’t understand why we never see Perfidia cry. But you see these little moments, like little details, in her face that’s just like, it’s this strength, but the strength — because I also don’t really love the term “strong Black woman” — it’s this strength that you feel like she has to have because the strength is really survival mode. And again, like I said, you hear her crack down and you hear her vulnerable, and nobody stepped through that door. So when you see a strong Black woman, there is no grace, it’s, “Oh, she’s OK, she fine, she got it all figured out.” And then you hear her vulnerable and you still feel like even at her most vulnerable, she got this, she’s strong. And it’s just like, “Step through the door. Step in early. Step in the first time. Hear me the first time, see me [this] time, wipe the first tear away. Would she have walked out that door on Baby Willa and Bob, had he walked through that door when he heard her cry?
Olsen: I’ve heard you a number of times when you’re talking about Paul, you always call him Paul “Let Him Cook” Thomas Anderson. What does that mean?
Taylor: Let him cook! Listen, because he to me is a master chef. And honestly, I’m very, very big on leadership. I respect the person that is a leader. What makes it so dope is because, with being in culinary school, I originally signed up for culinary school, of course, to learn the art of culinary, but to just cook, I love to cook and I wanted to learn the art of that. With being enrolled in culinary school, it’s a lot of writing work and a lot of discussion forums and a lot of quizzes and stuff like that. So you’re not only learning to cook, but you’re learning how to run a business. You’re learning how to navigate your staff, front of house, back of house, in the kitchen. You have to understand it’s a whole system in how you handle people in general. In the kitchen they call it like a “servant leader,” where your leader is in the kitchen with you, they’re cooking with you. They’re your mentor, they are your guidance, but they’re cooking with you. They’re not just pointing, “Do this, do that, boom, boom, boom.” And it’s just, like, his gentle servant leadership is something that I respect so much and something that inspires me as an upcoming movie director on how to handle and navigate my staff.
So it’s like the best of both worlds because I have PTA and then I have culinary school who’s teaching me how to be the best leader. Even in how we handle people, it’s bigger than just the people that work for us or with us. It’s also the people that come into this restaurant. It’s your customers. It’s just the hospitality of it all and the hospitality that he gives, it’s really amazing to see. I’m also a big sports girl. So even in regards to him being our quarterback, you know, he’s not on the side, pointing at what to do. He’s on the field with you. But he has an even bigger job because now he’s trusting that he’s going to throw this ball to you and you’re going to receive that ball. So we’re his receivers, we’re his wide receivers to take it to the touchdown. It’s all about being present. And that’s what I learned in culinary, it’s what I learned in sports, it’s just everything about being a leader as I prepare to lead my village and lead my community. That’s just so important to me. So I always respect people that are in the field with you. I become a warrior for you. You see Paul, you’re running in the battlefield, you look to your left, he’s with you. He’s not on a horse, he’s not on his high horse. He’s in the field with you. Let’s go, we got this! And it just makes you want to you want to go so hard for him. And that’s how I look at it. So I am a student. I am a teammate. I am a soldier. I am a warrior. That’s what I am with people that are great leaders.
Olsen: When you won the Golden Globe, your speech was so moving and you specifically spoke to your “brown sisters and little brown girls” and said that their light does not need permission to shine. Can you talk more about that? What was it that made you want to say that in that moment, specifically talking about this movie?
Taylor: I thought it was a very important moment on a very important stage. I wanted to use my voice and I wanted to use my platform. And in that moment, I had the voice and the platform to say just that. It’s nothing less than that. There’s nothing beyond that. Exactly what I said. We deserve space. What that night showed was that here’s the space. And I appreciated that. I was filled with so much gratitude. That moment hit hard for me because I was that little girl that sat on the floor on a TV watching the other queens onstage accept their awards. Like, “You can do it too, you can do it too.” And I knew that one day when it was my turn, I would tell my little queens, “You can do it too — all the little queens that look like me, you can do it too, you deserve space.” To know that also my daughters were watching as well, it’s everything to me. It’s everything for me to know that they embrace that as well. It’s so important. I’ve gotten so many women come up to me like, “Wow, that speech was just everything.” And that’s what it’s all about. That’s what is all about: to inspire, uplift and remind us that there is space.
Olsen: Before I let you go, you just bring it on red carpets time and time again. And the one thing I like is that you wear these really bold outfits, and it never looks like the clothes are wearing you. Do you have tips for people? What do you do for confident personal style?
Taylor: Honestly, follow your heart. Follow your heart. If you see it and you like it, put it together. You might put it together and be like, “That didn’t work the way I [intended].” Practice. Play in clothes. I love to play in clothes — but also will walk in the store and redress a whole mannequin. I’ll also be like, “I like that tie, I think it should be a little bit tighter.” I dream about certain outfits. I dream of certain moments where I’m like, “Oooh. I already know what I feel like I want my Oscar dress to look like. I already know what I want my Golden Globes dress to look like.” It’s always a vision. Or sometimes you might have a base. You might see something and be like, “I like this, but I feel it could use this.” Add it. If you feel like something can use something, add it. Because before you know it, now you done created your own thing. So don’t hesitate. When I was younger, I used to hesitate and be like, “This looked pretty cool, but now I’m not gonna do it.” And then later on, I see somebody try it, and I’m like, “Oh, I should have just…” Always follow your gut and always follow you heart.
When we decided to rank the best Los Angeles movies, we thought 101 titles would be plenty: room enough for undeniable classics, personal obsessions, even a guilty pleasure or two. Of course it wasn’t. You let us know, endorsing many of our selections but insisting we’d missed a few.
Sifting through your responses, 14 films had the most passionate advocacy. You’ll find them listed below in alphabetical order. Together they make up a perfectly valid alternate list, one that captures the glamour and romance of L.A. — as well as its lovable plasticity — just as well.
‘American Gigolo’ (1980)
Richard Gere and Lauren Hutton in the movie “American Gigolo.”
(Paramount Pictures)
Reader Cindy Simon from Pacific Palisades shares an anecdote: “I had just moved to L.A. from New Jersey. My friend and I — young mothers — ducked out of our baby-centered life to see ‘American Gigolo.’ The first scene was the incredible Richard Gere smoothly walking outside a Malibu beach house. My friend and I literally gasped!”
There is so much to recommend to this movie — an excellent choice and a regrettable omission on our part. Not only is it responsible for introducing Blondie’s “Call Me” to the world, it does so via an opening credits scene of Pacific Coast Highway cruising that all but defined L.A. hedonism as the ’70s became the ’80s.
‘The Anniversary Party’ (2001)
Jennifer Beals, Alan Cumming and Jennifer Jason Leigh in the movie “The Anniversary Party.”
(Peter Sorel / Fine Line Features)
“A dysfunctional showbiz marriage in the Hollywood Hills, a party with a lost dog, what’s not to love?” asks reader Jim Ehlers of Pasadena. “It’s so iconically L.A. — the sexy mid-century modern house. When do you get Parker Posey, Gwyneth Paltrow and John C. Reilly in the same cast?”
That spectacular glass-walled home in the Hollywood Hills is the Schaarman House, designed by architect Richard Neutra. But fans know the movie for other reasons: Phoebe Cates came out of retirement to act with her “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” co-star Jennifer Jason Leigh. Today’s audiences ogle a young Alan Cumming.
‘City of Gold’ (2015)
Jonathan Gold in the documentary “City of Gold.”
(Sundance Selects)
Junko Garrett of Eagle Rock says this documentary “captures the essence of L.A.: diversity and vibrancy, amazing food and people. I was a big fan of Jonathan Gold’s articles and looked forward them every week.”
So did we. Gold’s omnivorous enthusiasm remains a guiding light for so many Angelenos and his Pulitzer-winning food writing is easy to find. We’re still going to several of the film’s featured restaurants: Jitlada, Chengdu Taste, Guelaguetza.
‘Crash’ (2004)
Thandiwe Newton and Matt Dillon in the movie “Crash.”
(Lorey Sebastian / Lions Gate Films)
More than a few of our readers bemoaned the omission of an Oscar-winning best picture like “Crash.” Says Jim Rodriguez of Torrance, it “captures the quintessential reality that, in L.A., all the levels of social strata, at one time or another, exist side by side on our roads and freeways, separated by a few feet, metal and glass. And yet, still so isolated from each other.”
And Ian Barnard of DTLA calls the movie “a wonderful antidote to Hollywood’s whitewashed and unrealistically glamorous depictions of L.A.” It shows the city “in all its diversity, prejudices, contradictions, inequities and generosities.”
To us, “Crash” will always be the movie that stole “Brokeback Mountain’s” glory. But let’s be generous and note that Carney’s Restaurant on Ventura gets a nice moment.
‘The Day of the Locust’ (1975)
William Atherton, left, and Donald Sutherland in the movie “The Day of the Locust.”
(Paramount Pictures / Getty Images)
The Nathanael West novel is, of course, essential, so where’s the movie? Reader Andrea Hales, a San Diegan who lived in Los Angeles for 15 years, calls the film version “eerie and fascinating, capturing the essence of Los Angeles: the city of hopes and dreams, fires and riots. The setting is 1930s Hollywood but it could be today.”
One thing is certain: As a one-stop shop for classic L.A. locations, you can’t do much better than “The Day of the Locust,” which takes us to the Ennis House, Paramount’s iconic Bronson Gate and Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.
‘Earthquake’ (1974)
A scene from the movie “Earthquake.”
(United Archives / Hulton Archive / Getty Images)
Reader Dina Schweim, writing from Winston-Salem, N.C. (fine, we’ll allow an outsider’s perspective in this case), expressed her disappointment to not find “Earthquake” on our list: “There are few things I love more than a good disaster movie that obliterates L.A. to balance out fanciful and the corrupt — and yes, I was pleased to see that ‘Volcano’ made the list but ‘Earthquake’ really does capture the raw core of what destruction in L.A. can look like.”
The film was mostly shot on the Universal backlot and we wish it had more of an authentic L.A. feel. Still, if you harbor satisfaction at seeing the city get trashed (and who doesn’t on occasion?), we’re not getting in the way of that rumble.
‘(500) Days of Summer’ (2009)
Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel in the movie “(500) Days of Summer.”
(Chuck Zlotnick / Fox Searchlight Pictures)
You like this one. Really like it. “It celebrates and beautifies the city in a way few other movies ever have,” says Anthony Cavalluzzi of Yorba Linda, adding, “Its absence completely invalidates the list.” And Michael Backauskas of Beverlywood writes, “I went to see it five times and I never do that.”
Any film about an aspiring architect is going to make the most of its locations. If you mourn the lovers’ bench at Angel’s Knoll Park, know that it became immortal because of this film.
‘Get Shorty (1995)’
John Travolta and Rene Russo in the movie “Get Shorty.”
(MGM)
This comedy’s dialogue was quoted in our comments twice. For reader Sean Dickerson of Beverly Grove, the movie gives us “maybe the greatest line about our city: ‘What is the point of living in L.A. if you’re not in the movie business?’” And for David Hughes of Sierra Madre, the moment comes when John Travolta’s gangster-turned-Hollywood-wannabe is asked what he knows about the movie business: “I don’t think the producer has to know much.”
There is an unforced charm to the way Travolta’s character falls in love with Hollywood — he’s already a movie geek but other elements fall into place for him. Eagle-eyed viewers will recognize both the Aero and Vista theaters.
‘Grand Canyon’ (1991)
Kevin Kline and Danny Glover in the movie “Grand Canyon.”
(20th Century Fox)
Paul Krekorian of Encino calls this one “a brilliant and underrated study of life in Los Angeles. In a deeply personal way it lays bare so many of the societal challenges Los Angeles always struggles with — economic segregation, racial division and injustice, violence, the disparity between Hollywood-created facades and the reality of ordinary life, and the struggle to find meaning and substance.”
Its writer and director, Lawrence Kasdan, was also responsible for “The Big Chill,” a similar portrait of generational flux, and there are quiet moments in “Grand Canyon” that are some of his best. It also starts with a Lakers game.
‘Knight of Cups’ (2015)
Christian Bale in the movie “Knight of Cups.”
(Melinda Sue Gordon / Broad Green Pictures)
Reader Peter Turman of Brentwood sees depth in Terrence Malick’s oblique portrait of a distracted screenwriter (Christian Bale) searching for grace but finding a lot of sex, calling it “a fever-dream meditation on Los Angeles and Hollywood, with its promises, chimeras, illusions, seductions, nightmares and disappointments, told by a great filmmaker who knows of what he speaks.”
Malick shot all over Los Angeles but his moments on the Warner Bros. lot, the enormous numbered studio buildings looming, may be his most beautiful.
‘Lost Highway’ (1997)
Patricia Arquette and Balthazar Getty in the movie “Lost Highway.”
(October Films)
Even with two other David Lynch films placing on our list, that wasn’t enough for Clark Leazier of West Hollywood, who calls the L.A. vistas and landmarks in “Lost Highway” “the most burned in my brain — particularly the Firestone Auto Shop that is now the popular All Season Brewing in Mid City. Also it captures Southern California nighttime driving in a messed up yet accurate way.”
Lynch obsessives know “Lost Highway” to be the one narrative film in which you can see the director’s own house, part of his compound on Senalda Drive in the Hollywood Hills, used as the setting for his main characters’ mansion.
‘Spanglish’ (2004)
Paz Vega, left, Téa Leoni and Adam Sandler in the movie “Spanglish.”
(Bob Marshak / Columbia Pictures )
Says Rochelle Lapides of Ventura County, “It tells one of the essential stories of our Los Angeles-bound Mexican immigrant population and the cultural challenges they face. Also, in my opinion, it’s one of Adam Sandler’s best dramatic roles.”
Agreed, especially on Sandler, whose turn in “Punch-Drunk Love” so impressed director James L. Brooks, he decided to cast him here. The film’s romantic patio scene is filmed at the Beverly Hills restaurant Il Cielo.
‘Star 80’ (1983)
Mariel Hemingway, left, Eric Roberts and Cliff Robertson in the movie “Star 80.”
(Paramount Pictures / Getty Images)
“Talk about dying for the dream,” writes William Mariano of Escondido. “It was filmed in the same spot she died.” He means Playboy model Dorothy Stratten, murdered by her sicko husband Paul Snider in a Rancho Park home that was actually used by the movie’s production while filming their dramatization of the crime.
“Star 80” does crystallize the ominous side of the L.A. myth, as a place where you’ll arrive, find success (and exploitation) and be destroyed in the process. Bob Fosse completists need to see it; it was the “All That Jazz” director’s final movie.
‘Tequila Sunrise’ (1988)
Kurt Russell, Michelle Pfeiffer and Mel Gibson in the movie “Tequila Sunrise.”
(Warner Bros. Pictures)
Jean Clark of Manhattan Beach celebrates this thriller’s cast, cinematography and plot, which she sums up as “classic good guy vs. bad guy and the woman who loves them both, set against the dark underbelly of glamorous L.A. and its golden beaches back in the 1980s.”
And Jean would know — the movie was largely shot around Manhattan Beach. But don’t go looking for Michelle Pfeiffer’s restaurant Vallenari’s. It was entirely constructed on a soundstage.
Whether you’re already on the inside or new to the party, the Canadian meta-comedy “Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie,” about a music duo’s epic undiscoveredness, shows little audience favoritism as it ping-pongs between timelines, formats, realities, cultural shout-outs and its two indefatigable lead characters. Make that four leads, since director and co-writer Matt Johnson and his composer-best friend Jay McCarrol each play themselves twice, thanks to archival footage presented in this zippy mockumentary as evidence of time travel.
Don’t be confused. Or rather, be confused but adventurously so! Especially if you aren’t familiar with the cult web series from which this film derives. Indie-savvy viewers might know Johnson’s work from the moon-landing conspiracy lark “Operation Avalanche” or the cheeky docu-dramedy “BlackBerry,” both of which he directed and acted in. But there’s no getting around the fact that if you haven’t encountered them before, then for a good while they’ll come across as Motormouth Clown in a Fedora (Johnson) and Understated Guy at the Piano (McCarrol).
With three Ns to their band name (no relation to a slightly better-known group), a dream of booking Toronto’s longstanding live venue and only a cluttered suburban home to show for it, the duo’s act seems primarily to be coming up with boneheaded ideas for exposure. Johnson’s latest bolt of inspiration is for them to parachute from the top of downtown Toronto’s 2,000-foot CN Tower into the open Rogers Centre stadium below, a plan which meets with amusingly alarmed concern from a very real employee at the hardware store. It’s the first of many encounters with unsuspecting citizens, à la the oeuvre of Sacha Baron Cohen.
Though their stunt fails — yet succeeds for us as a piece of guerrilla filmmaking wizardry — it spurs Johnson toward an even crazier notion: time traveling in an RV to 2008 to change their fates and secure their inevitable fame. Think “Back to the Future” and think about it a lot, since from here on out, that 1985 classic becomes this movie’s lodestar of structural, comedic and musical reference. (McCarrol’s enjoyably overwrought orchestral score shouts out to composer Alan Silvestri.)
That the filmmakers could play against themselves using video of the 2008 versions of their characters (when they had the web series) is undeniably clever, if not always the laugh riot it promises to be. But it also helps foster the jealousy-driven farce that takes over the current-day narrative and is genuinely funny: a rejiggered timeline in which McCarrol becomes a massive pop star and Johnson gets left behind.
Invariably these wacky scenarios will be more amusing to longtime fans, for whom a frantic climax akin to the lightning-meets-DeLorean ending of “Back to the Future” will play like nostalgia for nostalgia. To the uninitiated, though, even amid steady laughter and a sneaking concern for this silly friendship to right itself, it may come off as much ado about who knows what.
But Johnson is nothing if not a punchy ringmaster of deadpan humor and his grab-bag mindset generates enough goodwill to appreciate the DIY brashness of it all. I’m one of those who had no clue of this act’s history and I’m fairly certain I’d look forward to “Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie the Sequel.”
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times, host of The Envelope newsletter and the guy answering all of the above to this newsletter’s initial question.
Everyone loves a surprise or two on Oscar nominations morning, and this year gave us the gift of Delroy Lindo, 73, finally earning his first Oscar nomination for his standout performance as bluesman Delta Slim in “Sinners.”
Some people are still smiling about the news. Lindo certainly is.
Lindo and I talked about the lessons he has learned as an actor over the course of a career that has spanned a half-century. He recalled the self-doubts that plagued him when he first played the lead in “A Raisin in the Sun,” the story of a struggling Black family dealing with discrimination in 1950s South Chicago, and how he overcame those fears when he revisited the role three years later.
“This was an absolute period of growth for me as an actor all because I learned the most important thing: preparation, preparation, preparation,” he told me.
But even when you exercise that level of care, you still deal with doubt. Actors will be the first to tell you that they’re needy, neurotic.
To play Delta Slim, Lindo read books on the blues, listened to Son House, Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf and immersed himself in the culture of the Mississippi Delta. Musicians helped him hone his harmonica and piano playing. He was ready.
But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t use a little affirmation for a final boost.
Lindo says there were two such “seminal moments” for him while making “Sinners.” The first came when they filmed the scene where Lindo stands as his car passes a chain gang. Delta Slim exhorts the prisoners to “hold your heads.”
“[Director] Ryan [Coogler] was very nervous,” Lindo says. “He didn’t want any accidents.”
Shortly after shooting the scene, the movie’s unit publicist, Anna Fuson, emailed Lindo’s agents, telling them how his work had moved her and the crew.
“That doesn’t happen,” Lindo says, his voice cracking with emotion.
Later they shot Delta Slim’s monologue, in which he recalls the lynching of a fellow musician, ending with Lindo breaking into a guttural humming and drumming, expressing pain that transcends words. That night Zinzi Coogler, Ryan’s wife and a producer on “Sinners,” wrote Lindo telling him how much that scene had meant to her.
“Those two moments gave me a grounding,” Lindo says quietly. “It let me know this work is impacting people. And you can’t put a value on that kind of thing.”
