music

Police say there is ‘insufficient evidence’ to bring charges after investigating comments made at Glastonbury festival.

British police have said they will take no further action over comments made by punk-rap duo Bob Vylan about the Israeli military during a performance at the Glastonbury music festival in June.

Avon and Somerset Police said on Tuesday that the remarks did not meet the criminal threshold required for prosecution “for any person to be prosecuted”.

During the performance, the group’s lead singer – Pascal Robinson-Foster, known by his stage name Bobby Vylan – led chants of “death, death” directed at the Israeli military over its genocidal war in Gaza.

Police said there was “insufficient evidence to provide a realistic prospect of conviction”. The force added that it interviewed a man in his mid-30s and contacted about 200 members of the public as part of the investigation.

The chant, which was livestreamed by the BBC as part of its Glastonbury coverage on June 28, prompted a widespread backlash. The broadcaster later apologised for transmitting what it described as “such offensive and deplorable behaviour”, and its complaints unit found the BBC had breached editorial guidelines.

Avon and Somerset Police said it had considered the intent behind the words, the wider context, relevant case law and freedom of expression issues before concluding the investigation.

“We believe it is right this matter was comprehensively investigated, every potential criminal offence was thoroughly considered, and we sought all the advice we could to ensure we made an informed decision,” the statement said.

“The comments made on Saturday 28 June drew widespread anger, proving that words have real-world consequences.”

Following the performance, the United States revoked the visas of Bob Vylan, forcing the cancellation of a planned US tour scheduled to begin in October.

Bob Vylan have launched defamation proceedings against Irish broadcaster RTE, alleging it falsely claimed they led anti-Semitic chants during the Glastonbury performance.

In July, the British police also dropped an investigation into the Irish-language rap group Kneecap after chants of “Free Palestine” during a performance.

Detectives sought advice from the Crown Prosecution Service and decided to take no further action, citing “insufficient evidence to provide a realistic prospect of conviction for any offence”.

Phil Wickham has released 14 Christian worship albums, has been Platinum certified and nominated for American Music Awards, Dove Awards, Billboard Music Awards and Grammys — but all of his vocal training and performances couldn’t prepare him to step into the shoes of one of his Biblical heroes with the upcoming animated musical film “David.”

Directed by Phil Cunningham and Brent Dawes, “David” marks the second animated film this year for Angel Studios. April’s “The King of Kings” made $60 million and is the second-highest-grossing film from the studio following “Sound of Freedom,” which made $184 million. The film hits theaters on Friday. If the release date sounds familiar, it could be because the third installment in the multibillion-dollar “Avatar” franchise, “Avatar: Fire and Ash,” is released on the same day. Presale numbers for “David” are at $15 million on 3,100 screens, but with “Avatar” tracking to open between $135 million and $165 million, and “The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants” also tracking between $13 million and $20 million, it would seem to be a true David vs. Goliaths for ticket sales.

That in itself could be daunting, but for Wickham, the biggest obstacles came long before release dates were decided. Despite playing in arenas with thousands of fans, he had a “secret dream” of voicing a character in an animated film. A character “that carried courage and faith and had some grand adventure.” But because he’d never chased that dream, he realistically put a limit on that particular goal. Even when the opportunity arose, he was hesitant when going into a casting meeting.

“I’m unoffendable. [I said to producers], if I suck, then just tell me because I don’t want to waste anybody’s time. And also, I don’t want to be bad in a movie as much as you don’t want to make a bad movie,” says Wickham.

The contemporary Christian artist, who recently finished sold-out concerts at Downey Calvary Chapel and the Wiltern, had never tried his hand at voice acting. Not only did he get the role, but he also had to help bring to (animated) life one of the most well-known stories in the Bible. The tale of David — the boy who was anointed to become the king and along the way felled the giant Philistine warrior Goliath with a rock and a slingshot — has become synonymous as the most famous of underdog representations and tests of faith in the Bible. The character and story is also one of Wickham’s favorites.

Phil Wickham always wanted to voice an animated character, especially after seeing “The Lion King.”

(Colton Dall)

“When this came across my desk, so to speak, I was just like, man, I could tell you that story, but I didn’t know if I had it in me. I didn’t know if I was a good actor. I didn’t know if I could voice a character, but I knew I wanted a shot,” said Wickham.

A curious revelation for Wickham was discovering that the singing that he’d been doing most of his life would not work on-screen, at least not for this project. He was asked to tone down things, to sometimes “talk through” lyrics and to generally make the music more dramatic for the screen.

“I thought, OK, I got this. This is why they hired me, because I’m a singer. But that ended up being the hardest part because they didn’t want me to sound like me,” Wickham said.

“Singing became a background to just being the character, which honestly, in some ways, was the hardest thing. Maybe even for my ego as as an artist.”

It was definitely a process that required lots of fine-tuning and looking at David as not just the king and hero that Wickham had grown up reading about at home and in Southern California churches. Sitting in the pews in Downey, the singer reflected on why he got into music and why Christian entertainment is on the rise.

“I found out really quick that I loved being a part of moments where people were encountering the same hope and faith that I encountered in my room alone,” Wickham said of songwriting and performing. He grew up with Christianity all around him, but has seen a spike in popularity for music and movies dealing with faith-based fandom.

“For this movie ‘David’ to come out at this time … I think that the world is looking for stuff to hope in. I think people are just searching and finding out more and more the truth that if we look around us at the world of man, we’re not going to find real solutions. So that maybe if we look up, we will.”

It is often said that film directors are siloed off from one another, that they don’t get to watch how others work. So when you put a group of them together, as with the six participants in The Envelope’s 2025 Oscar Directors Roundtable, they are quick to share all sorts of ideas. Like where they prefer to sit in a movie theater — centered in a row or on an aisle? How far back is the best for sound, or so the screen runs up to the edges of your peripheral vision? Should you even take the worst seats in the house, since somebody will eventually be asked to pay money to sit there?

Guillermo del Toro, there with his adaptation of Mary Shelley’s classic novel “Frankenstein,” likes the top of the first quarter of the theater. Rian Johnson, who finds new twists for Benoit Blanc in his third “Knives Out” detective story, “Wake Up Dead Man,” says, “I look for wherever Guillermo’s sitting.” Nia DaCosta, who made the bold, adventurous Ibsen adaptation “Hedda,” likes the top of the first third. Mona Fastvold, who explores the life of the founder of the religious movement known as the Shakers in “The Testament of Ann Lee,” likes the center a little farther back. Jon M. Chu, who made the second part of a musical adaptation with “Wicked: For Good,” sits dead center — and has been known to talk to the theater manager if the sound isn’t loud enough. And Benny Safdie, who explores the rise and fall of mixed martial arts fighter Mark Kerr in “The Smashing Machine,” tries to find a spot where he can fidget in his seat and not bother anyone.

Read on for more excerpts of their conversation about the art of adaptation, navigating budget constraints at any scale and much more.

Jon, I’ve heard you say that with “Wicked: For Good,” you wanted the film to be deeper but not darker. And it doesn’t pull any punches as far as dealing with themes of antiauthoritarianism. What was it like to have those very serious ideas and yet still have this be a buoyant, crowd-pleasing musical?

Chu: The reason we made it was because it had that meat to it, and it was always a two-movie, yearlong experience that set up the fairy tale first. And Movie 2 is kind of where we all are, this moment of this fairy tale shattered in front of us.

I have five children now, so I’m thinking about how to present stories to my kids. Do I still believe in the possibility of dreams and the American Dream? “For Good” really gets to delve into that stuff. And because it was shorter than the first half, we get more room to do it. We added new songs to explore that idea. So it all felt really fitting. Movie 1 could be an answer. Movie 2 is much more of a challenge: Who are we gonna be now that we know the truth?

All of your films in their own way are speaking to right now. Rian, “Wake Up Dead Man” is specifically set in the year 2025 and all the “Knives Out” pictures have been dealing with our contemporary reality. What makes you want to do that?

Johnson: That kind of started for me with the first movie. This is a genre, the murder mystery genre, that I love and that I’m just seeing so much of growing up. But it’s also a genre where most of what I had seen throughout my whole life, murder mysteries are period pieces set usually in a cozy little bubble of a little “Queensfordshire” place in England.

And I guess my realization was, that’s not what Agatha Christie did. She was not writing period pieces. She wasn’t an incredibly political writer, but she was always writing to her time. It’s not trying to do anything radical in terms of making it new or updating it, but let’s set it very much unapologetically in the modern moment. … You have a group of suspects that have a hierarchy of power amongst them and the person at the top they all wanna bump off — it’s such a potent vehicle for building a little microcosm of society.

Benny, one of my favorite things in “The Smashing Machine” is that it’s funny to realize setting a story at the turn of millennium is a period piece now. What was it like crafting this very specific, recent time period?

Safdie: It’s a time period that I think everybody thinks is just yesterday. But when you actually get into the nitty-gritty, it’s a long time ago. And things were very different and everybody knows exactly what those things are too. Because it was heavily documented, there was so much footage of it, it’s so top of mind. And I think a large amount of people also want to go back there a little bit, to this time where the internet was just kind of happening. People want to go back to this simpler moment. But trying to re-create what that feels like is what I was really going after — just thinking about how you would live in that time, and then represent that in the movie. Because I did want it to kind of feel like time travel.

Guillermo, you’ve spoken so much about how “Frankenstein” has been a lifelong dream project for you. Now that it’s done, where does that leave you?

Del Toro: There’s a massive postpartum depression, No. 1, and it’s real. And it affected me more than I thought it would, to be candid. But fortunately, I’ve been very interested in two new themes that are going to be sure to produce blockbusters, which is memory and regret. The dynamic duo of past 60. And I always thought about that in the abstract, but now I try to make the movies not only about the moment I’m in, but about me.

And I’m seriously trying to express what makes me uneasy, what makes me believe in the possibilities of grace even in the most horrible circumstances. And I’m not talking only social, but personal or philosophical. Something happens when the six clicks in on the counter. And all you can do is [ask], “Do I feel I have something to say, genuinely?” And then you go to that. Cronenberg, I had dinner with him when he was turning 74, and he said you have to scare yourself into being young again.

Nia, “Hedda” is such a bold adaptation of the play “Hedda Gabler.” You switched the gender of one of the main characters. You aren’t afraid to inject issues of race and class and sexual identity into the story. Were you ever concerned that you were asking too much of this classic text?

DaCosta: I wrote it on spec, so I wasn’t thinking about anything besides letting my freak flag fly, basically. I just thought, “This character makes more sense as a woman.” OK, what does that mean now? How does that affect the rest of the story? And then I just go from there. And then it ended up being really bountiful and generative.

And then when I met Tessa [Thompson] three years later, I thought, “Oh, when I write this, eventually Tessa will play Hedda.” So now she’s Black. OK, what does that mean? And Tessa’s also mixed-race. So then you get that element of it as well. And then I chose the 1950s, and then I chose England and the country house. You just treat these things as truths, and the story has to go in a certain direction. So I never worry about those things. Maybe because I’m a Black woman, so my presence or my identity for some people will complicate the story. But for me, it just is life.

Guillermo, in adapting “Frankenstein,” did you feel like you were dealing with the Mary Shelley text and also all the Frankenstein movies that we know?

Del Toro: I put all the cinematic stuff on the side. I didn’t want to make an erudite cinematic movie or a referential movie. I have lived with the three iterations of the text for my entire life. And there’s a lot of the interstitial stuff that I took from her biography, fusing with my biography, because even if you sing a song everybody knows, you’re doing it with your lungs. And your passion and your pain and your throat. … It’s the difference between seeing a living animal and taxidermy. If you just want the text, then buy the text. You cannot be more faithful to that text than reading the text. But if you want to see how we interact and resuscitate something into being emotional again, then that’s what we try to do.

Mona, “The Testament of Ann Lee” is a story told with music, but is it a musical? Is that a question you asked yourself as you were making it?

Fastvold: I consider it a musical. I do. But it’s just a different kind of musical. No one’s singing dialogue. It’s not magic when they start to sing. I think, as I was writing the script with Brady [Corbet], we realized early on it had to be a musical because the Shakers worship through ecstatic song and dance. They would be moved by the divine spirit and then receive a song or a piece of movement, and then they would start to sing and dance. Their life was a musical, so that’s what it had to be. And that was exciting to me, to create the whole structure of that.

But it couldn’t be, “OK, here’s a story and then here’s an amazing musical number.” It had to come from this place of worship. So all the musical bits and pieces of the film, our moments of feeling moved by the spirit and having this sort of religious experience, it had to be grounded in that and it had to be really organic-sounding and -looking. So we had to ground it in live recordings and create the soundscape and the music in dialogue with my choreographers. Every body slap and stomp is part of the rhythm and the music of it, because it couldn’t just be where diegetic audio fades out and then there’s this great, wonderful piece.

Chu: In a weird way, we all make musicals. All the movies, everybody has a take on how music integrates with it.

Del Toro: I was aiming for opera.

Guillermo, Jon, both of your films have a sense of scale to them. What kind of challenges does that present? Is it wrangling all the extras? Is it having the sets built on time? Jon, just the number of florists credited at the end of “Wicked: For Good” is wild.

Chu: It’s like building Disneyland, essentially. We had the warehouses going — there’s first a recording studio, so we’re recording music while their dance rehearsals are going on. You have hundreds and hundreds of people. Then you go to the costumes department and then you have the hair, just the wigs alone. People are getting there at 2:30 in the morning. And that’s before you even start the day.

We were planning two movies at the same time. So we had 20-something musical numbers rehearsed and worked with our cinematographer and our team to understand everything and build sets around these pieces. And then you get there on the day and how do I say, “Hey, all that stuff we did, this is actually happening over here. Let’s move everything over here”? I felt the hardest thing was being OK with wasting money if it was the right thing to do at that moment. I needed to feel free and had everybody aware that if I’m moving all of a sudden, we’ve got to go and we’ve got to figure it out. And I think that’s where the magic is.

Del Toro: To me, it’s three things. The first one is tonal, meaning everything that you do, you’re not doing eye candy, you’re doing eye protein. You’re telling a story. So it’s not about looking good or looking big. It’s about, does the gesture happen at the right moment? Because you can make gestures on the wrong moment of the film, and they don’t have a dramatic impact. I say we designed the movie for the Creature to feel real, of a piece with the world. So that’s the first one.

The second one: Is it expressing something different every time we go to a bigger thing? It’s not about the scale. And the final one to me is, does it feel real in the world? So the way I go at it is, there’s no typeface, no paint, no photograph, nothing, that cannot be investigated and designed to within an inch of its life. Even great movies, I’m very fidgety. I go, “That’s not a painting from the 1930s. Somebody painted it much later.” Or a typeface or a carnival banner or something like that. So at the end of the day, if you do your job right, you have a world and people just get into it almost like a vibe. Nobody should notice, but if you do it right, they want to experience it over and over again.

Rian, you make a really bold decision in “Wake Up Dead Man,” where the signature character of the series, Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc, is offscreen for much of the first 45 minutes or so of the movie. Did you have to convince people that’s the way things should go?

Johnson: Not really. For this one, first of all, it is a little closer to actually a traditional detective structure. That’s kind of how most Agatha Christie books work, is you meet the suspects in the first act. You get a very good idea of who’s gonna get bumped off. And then, end of the first act, the murder happens, and then the detective shows up and starts to solve it. So there was a precedent for it. But the real reason I had done backflips in the previous two movies to get around that was so we could get Blanc in there earlier. The reason it made sense for this [is] because Father Jud, who’s played by Josh O’Connor, [is] kind of the protagonist of it because of the themes of religion, and so the whole lay of the land was more complicated and delicate in this one to set up. I felt like the audience would be best served by having that runway and getting the time before this powerhouse that is Daniel playing Benoit Blanc comes in and brings this whole new energy to it.

The other thing that I’ve landed on with them is you have to constantly resist the candy of the mystery. You have to always remind yourself [that] the mystery elements are not a load-bearing wall, that those are never going to keep an audience entertained or engaged. You need to do the same thing you do in any movie where you have an emotional, bold line going that’s thrown at the beginning, that lands at the end. And the mystery then has to support that.

Mona, with “Ann Lee,” but also with “The Brutalist,” it seems like the movies that you and Brady Corbet are collaborating on together, you’re doing so much with relatively limited resources. What is it that the two of you are doing in these films that you’re able to make them seem so grand?

Fastvold: I mean, there’s no trick. I had to prep for almost a year for this one, because I knew that no one was going to give me a lot of money to make a musical about the founders of the Shakers. It was not gonna be this sexy pitch. It was a hard pitch. So I knew that it was going to be a limited budget. But at the same time, I just desperately wanted “Ann Lee” to have a really grand story. And I wanted there to be a believable, lush world. And I wanted to tell a story about her whole life, not just a day in her life.

So I had to make it work somehow. It was so much about saying, “OK, I’m working with my [director of photography], my production designer, my costume designer every weekend and night for months and months before we started official prep. And same with my choreographer and composer and with all of the cast as well, just rehearsing. Amanda [Seyfried] was rehearsing at night while she was shooting something else. She would go and have dance rehearsals at night, on the weekends, so we could keep on adjusting.

So the only way that I could, to quote David Lynch, get dreamy on set, which was something I really wanted, was by having so much prep time, and then just really knowing what my Plan A and B was, and to sort of experiment in advance more. And because I knew there’s no way that you can try and build a world and then have the same flexibility on this budget, it’s all about knowing every line item in my budget, what everything costs in Hungary, what everything costs in Sweden. “OK, this is how much a cherry picker in Hungary costs, and therefore I’m gonna take out two shots and only build half the roof.”

The 2025 Envelope Directors Roundtable. Top row, left to right: Rian Johnson, Benny Safdie, and Mona Fastvold. Bottom row, left to right: Nia DaCosta, Jon M. Chu and Guillermo del Toro.

Chu: I think that’s one of the biggest lessons I learned being a director. You don’t have a right to make your movie, because it costs so much and you need so much help. You do have to earn the right to make your movie. That is a part of our job.

Nia, you come to “Hedda” having just made a Marvel movie. You’ve just also finished a sequel to “28 Years Later.” Is there a secret through line for you that connects all these projects?

DaCosta: Being a nerd, Marvel, horror, comic books, for me, those things that I’ve done that I haven’t written are worlds that I loved as a kid. So “Candyman” was hugely important to me when I was younger. I used to love Marvel comics as a kid. “28 Days Later” is one of my formative films that I watched. And so when the opportunities came up to be a part of those worlds, it was really exciting for me. And then “Hedda,” I’m a theater nerd too, so I just really go by my passion, and I’m really compelled by just interesting characters.

“Hedda” and “28 Years Later” are very different films, but for me, they were so similar because I learned from my experience jumping into the studio system after making a sub-million-dollar movie [“Little Woods”] what works for me and what doesn’t work for me. And what works for me is really being given authorship. And so I’m setting the tone early. We’re not here to battle. We’re here to make the vision that I have. And if you’re into it, cool and great, let’s work together. If you’re not into it, then it doesn’t have to exist or I’ll find another way for it to exist.

Del Toro: The ambition should always be beyond the budget. If they give you $130 [million], you want to make a movie that is $260 [million]. But the way to that I found by doing “Devil’s Backbone,” which is $3 million, or “Shape of Water,” which is $19.3. “Shape of Water” opened with all the different sets in the first 15 minutes. And then it’s two sets. Lab, apartment, lab, apartment, lab, apartment. I always tell the departments, let’s choose meatballs and gravy. Where do we put the real resources? You reach a plateau no matter what the budget. Never spend money on a plateau. It always needs to mean something.

Safdie: You pick and choose the moments when you’re gonna get big. We were doing the hospital scene and then we built the plane in the hallway of the hospital. Because that was the most affordable. But there was a column in the middle of the plane, and I would always joke that we should go through the column. I find those limitations exciting. Because you really have to figure it out.

Rian, “Glass Onion” had a more robust theatrical release than “Dead Man” has gotten. Do you feel like as filmmakers that all of you are being put in this position of fighting for the future of theaters and moviegoing?

Johnson: I actually feel incredibly optimistic at this moment about the future of moviemaking. I don’t feel that way because we’re all picking up signs and marching down the street and preaching to people that they need to keep this sacred. I feel optimistic about it because I go to movie theaters and I see them packed with young people who want to go to movie theaters and have that experience.

And I see them coming out for new movies. I see them at revival cinemas. I see theaters at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday showing a Melville film that are just full of young people who are excited. And then you see it with movies that have come out this year. You see it with something like Ryan [Coogler]’s movie, “Sinners,” or with so many films that have struck chords with audiences and created cultural events. You can’t wag your finger at people and say, “You should be going to the theater and having this theatrical experience,” but you feel it rising right now. And so for me, it’s less that I want to advocate for it. It’s more that I want to ride that wave of it coming up.

De Los recently did a team huddle to determine our personal list of best albums, as well as our favorite songs released in 2025. This is not another garden variety Latin genre list, but a highlight reel of 2025 releases that showcases artists from Latin America and the diaspora.

20. Selena Gomez and Benny Blanco feat. the Marías, “Ojos Tristes”
Released months before their highly-publicized wedding in September, “I Said I Love You First,” the album by multi-hyphenate superstar Selena Gomez and hit songwriter-producer Benny Blanco, was first conceived from nights spent perusing each other’s vintage record collections. Gomez resonated with the spectral 1982 ballad “El Muchacho de Los Ojos Tristes,” as originally recorded by the O.G. sad girl en español, Jeanette. After seeing the Marías in concert, the couple hit up the band to further maximize their joint slay — and revamp the classic as a bilingual dream-pop track, simply named “Ojos Tristes.” It not only topped the Billboard Hot Latin Songs chart, but it introduced a new generation to Jeanette’s timeless allure. —Suzy Exposito

19. JR Torres, “Desde Abajo Vengo”
It never fails: True to its ever reliable, unassuming ethos, the genre of música mexicana invariably delivers some of the year’s most gorgeous tunes. The melody on this two-minute single by Culiacán, Sinaloa, native JR Torres is a pearl of astounding purity, a theme developed alternately by the accordion and vocal line, and one that — like so many norteño hits — conveys an ocean of longing. The lyrics belong to the himnos de superación canon: a self-taught man outlines his road to success, paved with honesty, resilience and hard work. But it is the music itself that cements “Desde Abajo Vengo” as a Mexican classic for the ages. —Ernesto Lechner

18. Juana Rozas, “WANNA HOTEL”
Juana Rozas understands the emerging queer Latin underground, in all of its swirling genre hodgepodge, better than most. Her album “TANYA” is an unrestrained porteña whirlwind, rapidly shifting between industrial, electroclash, and doom metal, with all of these disparate influences coalescing on the highlight track “WANNA HOTEL.” The song splits the difference between atmospheric trap heaven and hardstyle hell, placing you squarely in a warehouse mosh pit. It’s vertigo-inducing sonic whiplash, complete with thumping techno and copious nose drugs. You can try to head to the hallways for a breather, but it feels better to be in the depths of Rozas’ debauchery. —Reanna Cruz

17. Macario Martinez, “Sueña Lindo, Corazón”
There isn’t a better feel-good story this year than Macario Martínez’s unexpected rise to fame. The Mexico City native and now former street sweeper went viral in January after uploading a TikTok video that showed him riding in the back of a sanitation truck at night. Soundtracking it is a snippet of “Sueña Lindo, Corazón,” a tender, stripped-down folk lullaby for a wounded heart. The clip included the following caption: “Life asks for a lot and I’m just a street sweeper who wants you to listen to his music.” Listen they did. The video has been viewed tens of millions of times and was shared by the likes of Harry Styles. turning Martínez into one of the most promising rising talents in Latin music. —Fidel Martinez

16. Dareyes de la Sierra, “Frecuencia”
The opening line of “Frecuencia” — “Yo sé que voy a morirme por eso bien loco vivo” (“I know I’m going to die, that’s why I live crazily”) — hits a little bit different once you learn that singer José Darey Castro survived an attempt on his life in 2004. Don’t let the usage of traditional música Mexicana instruments fool you; the cadence of this braggadocious track about hedonistic excess and indulgence is closer to hip-hop. With “Frecuencia,” and the album it comes from (“Redención,” which translates to “Redemption”), the regional veteran with more than two decades of experience under his belt proves that it’s never too late to reinvent yourself. —F.M.

15. Cuco, “Ridin’”
For his third studio album, “Ridin’,” Cuco said he wanted to embody the timelessness of Chicano soul without being derivative. “I wanted to go for more natural sounds with the soul sound, but I think it’s just inevitable for me sometimes,” the 27-year-old multi-instrumentalist from Hawthorne told De Los this summer. “I’m just going to end up doing some psychedelic parts with the music because that’s what I’ve always been.” This happy marriage of influences is most apparent in the LP’s titular track, which starts off feeling like you’re cruising with your sweetheart down a Southern California highway in a 1964 Chevy Impala before taking off into space. —F.M.

14. Mon Laferte, “Las Flores Que Dejaste En La Mesa”
Recently, Mon Laferte told me that she was especially proud of a verse in this song where she rhymed the description of a former lover’s erection with the word architecture. The juxtaposition of poetic wordplay with graphic sexuality is one of the Chilean singer’s favorite devices — here, it adds a frisson of decadence to a lush orchestration reminiscent of John Barry’s 007 themes. A key track off Laferte’s noirish “Femme Fatale,” “Las Flores Que Dejaste En La Mesa” takes off with the quiet longing of bossa nova, boils into unhinged bolero territory, then incorporates the icy electro loops of trip-hop icons Portishead. Still, the heart of the song is Laferte’s vocal performance — wounded and incandescent. —E.L.

13. Planta Industrial, “Oi”
Hilariously named “Punkwave Sin Barreras” — a nod to the ESL learning series “Inglés Sin Barreras” — the debut EP by the Bronx Dominican duo Planta Industrial is a generous helping of punk rock, darkwave and dembow fusion. The project is powered by high school friends turned rappers, who go by the names A.K.A. The Darknight and Saso (recently featured on the song “Caribeño” with Rauw Alejandro). On “Oi,” a clever stand-in for the word “hoy,” the duo deploy frenetic breakbeats, Ramones-style gang vocals and a touch of Toño Rosario freakness to demand their dues from a cheapskate boss. “F— you, pay me, “ chant the MCs. “Mañana, no — oi oi oi!” —S.E.

12. Six Sex feat. MCR-T, “Bitches Like Me”
This year, Argentina established itself as the Latin rave epicenter, with Six Sex leading the charge. Alongside Berlin-based club DJ MCR-T, and a propulsive synth line from Kylie Minogue’s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” the Buenos Aires baddie crafts one of the chicest earworms of the year. The beauty of using one of the best pop melodies of all time is that it’s already engineered for success, so MCR-T keeps it simple and silly with the addition of a thumping, four-to-the-floor beat. It plays out like a drunken freestyling session in your coolest friend’s apartment — with lines like “you are not that bitch” delivered with a heavily-accented affectation that feels seductive, but more importantly, unbothered. —R.C.

11. Rosalía feat. Yahritza Y Su Esencia, “La Perla”
Although the Spanish singer would be ineligible for this list on her own, Rosalía’s diss track “La Perla” — a scathing, ranchera-style ballad dedicated to a certain pretty boy ex with a sizable collection of other women’s bras — shines bright among her otherwise sparkling collection of orchestral pop songs in “Lux.” Rosalía wisely recruited the swooning Mexican American sierreña trio, Yahritza Y Su Esencia, to help her better emulate a Paquita La Del Barrio dress-down of a lover gone astray. The spirit of “La Perla” articulates not what it sounds like to be loved Mexicanly, but to be loathed Mexicanly — á la Catalana. —S.E.

10. Netón Vega, “Me Ha Costado”
Netón Vega’s sprawling debut album “Mi Vida Mi Muerte” makes a formidable attempt to define the rapidly-shifting sound of corridos tumbados, courtesy of one of the genre’s eminent songwriters. On “Me Ha Costado,” Vega, who hails from Baja California Sur, combines blown-out 808s with a G-funk whine to create a pan-Californian posse track. There’s an overload of shot-calling swagger dripping from every section here, from Alemán’s bouncing hook to Victor Mendivil’s shoutouts to San Andrés and Mazamitla. If you close your eyes, you could see the trio’s lowrider rolling down Whittier Blvd, with all three mischief-makers hanging out the windows. —R.C.

9. Cardi B, “Bodega Baddie”
I am tired of celebrities pretending that they go to the bodega for street cred: “if you know, you know.” One thing about Cardi B, though? I believe she remembers where she came from. “Bodega Baddie” is a bilingual ode to the Bronx’s Dominican enclaves where Cardi From The Block spent her childhood. It’s less than two minutes long, but moves at such a breakneck pace that if you close your eyes, you’re transported outside a deli on Dyckman on a hot summer day — where the fire hydrants are open, 808s are shaking storefront windows, and the whole block is outside. It’s some of the most electric mise-en-scène this year, anchored by a sample of Magic Juan’s “Ta Buena (Tipico)” merengue. —R.C.

8. Kali Uchis, “Sugar! Honey! Love!”
The Colombian American soulstress has played many roles in her songs: a baddie, a psychic, a woman adrift at sea in a yellow raincoat. But in the making of her 2025 album “Sincerely,” she explored the profound vulnerability of becoming a mother — and her sighing revelations in “Sugar! Honey! Love!” melt most beautifully into the hazy pop ether. “I was already an emotional person, [but] since my pregnancy I’ve been able to feel a lot deeper,” she told De Los in May. “When your child is born, you’re reborn in a lot of ways. It’s a death and a rebirth of yourself. But I think a lot of joy and hope comes with that.” —S.E.

7. Adrian Quesada feat. Angélica Garica, “No Juego”
At the start of “No Juego,” we hear the sound of tape being rewound, as if to suggest that we’re about to listen to something from a different era. Sure enough, the psychedelia of the keyboard, guitar and drums transports us to the late 1960s, only to be brought back to the present by the self-assured delivery of vocalist (and El Monte’s own) Angélica Garcia. “No vine pa’ pedir permiso,” she briefly raps (“I’m not here to ask for permission”), before throwing theatrical vocal daggers at a former lover who couldn’t stay true. She’s letting us know that we’re in her world and she’s not playing around. “No Juego” is easily the crown jewel of “Boleros Psicodélicos II.”—F.M.

6. Ca7riel y Paco Amoroso, “#TETAS”
Sometimes a song is only as successful as its concept. On “#TETAS,” the Argentine trickster gods Ca7riel y Paco Amoroso try to reverse-engineer a pop anthem, ChatGPT buzzwords and all. A flippant listener could dismiss “#TETAS” as just a winking novelty song — after all, what “serious” track contains a character named Gymbaland, the lyrics “let me be your Chad,” and a post-chorus counting dabs? The thing is, though, between the slinking bass line, the massive 80’s Yamaha pianos, and a final key change that soars through the ceiling, the song becomes the exact pop anthem that they’re trying to satirize. “This is a f— smash,” go the final lines of the song. We’re inclined to agree. —R.C.

5. Silvana Estrada, “Como Un Pájaro”
As we compiled the songs for this list, we struggled selecting just one track off Silvana Estrada’s stunning second album. At 28, the singer-songwriter from Veracruz informs her work with a level of maturity that most artists won’t achieve in a lifetime. Like most of the cuts in “Vendrán Suaves Lluvias,” “Como Un Pájaro” draws from the wisdom of the trova movement; enamored with the immediacy of stringed instruments, chronicling the process of healing using metaphors from the natural world. The song’s climax — Estrada’s lustrous voice intertwined with a swelling orchestral arrangement — will probably bring tears to your eyes. Fun fact: In concert, she reproduces the lilting whistled interlude to perfection. —E.L.

4. Astropical, “Fogata (Leo)”
Following a memorable performance at the Hollywood Bowl last summer, it became apparent that Astropical, the supergroup formed by members of Colombia’s Bomba Estéreo and Venezuela’s Rawayana, will probably never reconvene again. We’ll always have “Fogata,” though — a song about holding on to the precious moments of bliss when confronted with the ephemeral nature of… well, everything. The track combines the warmth of a beachside bonfire with slick, Afrobeats-soaked grooves. The stars of the show? The honeyed harmonies of Li Saumet and Beto Montenegro, now intertwined until the end of time. —E.L.

3. Isabella Lovestory, “Telenovela”
Who among us hasn’t thought — whether it be ironically or authentically — “my life is a movie?” Isabella Lovestory takes it one further: her sexcapades, in all their glamour and drama, are worthy of their own telenovela. Much of her sophomore album “Vanity” has main character energy, and Lovestory’s “Telenovela,” with its extended metaphors of Barbarella bad bitches, “tragica erotica,” and using “su lengua pa cambiar el canal” is the descriptive centerpiece. If it doesn’t bring a flush to your cheeks, you’re not listening hard enough; the way she coos “uy-uy-uy” will linger the next time things get a little hot and heavy. —R.C.

2. Fuerza Regida, “Marlboro Rojo”
If I sit on the porch of my Boyle Heights home for 15 minutes, I guarantee you that a pickup truck will eventually drive by playing a corrido at a window-rattling volume. For the last six months, the song of choice blasting from the blown out speakers of these mamalonas has been “Marlboro Rojo.” I get it. The track is so unapologetically — ugh, cringe word, I know — Mexican. What better way to announce your presence than with the boom boom of the sousaphone? 2025 was a marquee year for música Mexicana and no one was more on top of their game than Fuerza Regida. My personal favorite version of this song is from the Apple Music Live concert taped earlier this summer at Mexico City’s GNP Stadium. Hearing the tens of thousands of fans singing the chorus back to JOP gives me chills. — F.M.

1. Bad Bunny, “Baile Inolvidable”
Is there a Bad Bunny record that’s not a love letter to his native Puerto Rico? His 2025 juggernaut, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” however, goes far beyond the usual motherland worship; the album’s greatest takeaway is to cherish not just the place, but the people you call home, too. Invoking the feverish, tropical melodrama of salsa titans past and present, Bad Bunny delivers one of his most tremendous vocal performances — powered by his enduring love for a woman he used to know, comparing her to an unforgettable dance. But it’s just like Benito to cut through the gravitas of his own song by lauding an ex for her sexual prowess — namely, her boquita — but his magic as a hit songwriter is most potent in verses that oscillate between the sacred and profane. —S.E.

A different type of British invasion had EDM fans in a trance at the Queen Mary in Long Beach.

Armed with turntables, social media-star-turned-professional-party-starter Fish56Octagon made his U.S. festival debut Nov. 21 and 22 at Insomniac’s Dreamstate SoCal, where he performed alongside some of the world’s most preeminent electronic artists, including Tiësto, Paul Oakenfold, Gareth Emery, Ferry Corsten and Chicane.

Fish, as he’s called, is a 46-year-old from the London suburbs who joined TikTok on a drunken whim after being introduced to the app by friends in 2021. Now boasting over a million followers across platforms, he’s seen his life flip because of that choice — quitting a full-time marketing career to become a DJ, produce music and play sets at some of the world’s biggest music festivals in the four years since he uploaded his first video.

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Though his initial post was about his watch collection, the self-described “petrol head” quickly went deep into creating content about cars and made a successful side hustle within a couple years. Crossover between auto enthusiasts and the music lovers in his audience meant the dance songs he used to soundtrack his car videos and sporadic vinyl-haul unboxings spawned passionate discussion in the comments about the classic rave songs Fish was sharing with the world.

He also benefited from an accidental, scroll-stopping visual hook repeated across videos born from his employer asking him to ensure it didn’t look like he was posting during business hours: middle-aged, thin and bald, dropping dad moves in front of his sprawling Technics decks and pumping his fists to the beat between bites of Weetabix biscuits, all while wearing a red and black dressing gown (what Americans would call a robe), gifted to Fish’s wife by his mother.

Screen shot of Fish DJing on TikTok in his bathrobe

(TikTok)

“That gown is elegant,” wrote a fan in the comments.

“It was legit my mum’s but she found it too hot,” Fish responded.

“You the same build as your mum” another person wrote back, punctuating the comment with a sweating smiley face emoji.

Fish also began to livestream on TikTok late into the night, playing his own mixes for the first time in 20 years.

“I remember seeing people commenting on the Live going, ‘Mate, we were watching you before we went out. We’ve just gone on a whole night out in our city, come back and you’re still here playing,’” Fish said. “I just love it. Sharing and being able to get out those obscure records. Sometimes it’s the big anthems everyone knows and sometimes it’s a tune that was an anthem to me.”

He’s had a decades-long education in electronic music. Fish was introduced to the genre on the cusp of his teen years through an episode of the British detective show “Inspector Morse.” One episode took place in the illegal rave scene and he thought it looked like fun to party in an old warehouse.

Fish’s taste quickly developed by listening to pirate radio and vinyl. He pieced together his first setup with two hi-fi record players his dad had in the attic. Only one had pitch control. He learned to beatmatch by plugging a player into each side of his amplifier and using the balance knob to fade between them. He was given Soundlab DLP-1 belt-driven turntables for his birthday and his obsession accelerated over the next several years.

Fish56Octagon performing at the Dreamstate music festival in Long Beach.

(Niyaz Pirani)

“By then I was just spending every penny that I had on vinyl building my record collection up. It was all rave music, early old school, hardcore jungle, and then happy hardcore, drum and bass around that sort of time, early to mid-’90s,” he said. “I played quite a few house parties.”

He became a de-facto resident DJ in college, spinning vinyl in the student union, and dabbled in music production at the same time. He eventually sold his analog kit and synthesizers when he switched to Ableton. He downsized his record collection as he converted them to MP3s.

The demands of his post-college marketing career meant the DJ dream disappeared for many years. That was until his TikTok Live sets gave him a second chance as club promoters reached out in the hope of booking him. Fish admits a lack of confidence caused him to stay on the sidelines. It was an offer in February 2024 to play a solo show at Hidden in Manchester — about the same time he switched his channel over entirely to music — that got him out of his house and onto a stage.

“Even if I wasn’t sure that people would come, I knew that anyone that did come would be coming to see me,” he said. “ … I ended up putting a night on where I played for five hours straight, just me from the start to the end. When the tickets went on sale, it sold out a good couple of months before the event.”

Fish wondered if it was a one-off event or the beginning of a life-changing run. Then the offers came in from other big U.K. cities — FishTales in Newcastle; acid techno at Beaverworks in Leeds; raves in Liverpool and Birmingham. He hired an agent. Dropped some merch.

“Not sure how this happened! But I’m here for it and hope you are too,” he wrote online.

A 20-date summer tour featured three different sets at the famed Glastonbury Festival, and appearances at Reading and Creamfields. He also traveled to Ireland, Scotland and Malta, marking his first time playing professionally outside of England.

He quit his day job in August 2024 to DJ and focus on music production full time with the support of his wife, children and parents.

“They support me even though it comes at a cost that I can’t always spend as much time with them, but they understand that I’m following my dream, following my passion, and doing something positive,” he said.

He’s gained an appreciation as a historian of the genre. Fish’s followers have grown to include Skrillex, David Guetta, Disclosure, Bicep and more of the artists he has admired and now counts among his peers.

“For about the first year, I often would wake up in the morning — I’m gonna get a little bit emotional just talking about this — but I’d wake up in the morning and just think, ‘Wow, that was all a dream, wasn’t it?” he said. “Then I look at my phone. I can see that actually it was real.”

Fish attributes his success to social media, though he said it’s a mistake to think just having social media followers guarantees bookings and the upward trajectory of one’s career.

“They’re actually a function of each other. It’s because I was making content that proved to be popular about music that I managed to build up a following and have those opportunities come my way,” he said. “I’ve now played, getting on for, 200 professional gigs at various clubs, festivals, events, raves, all around the world.”

Fish waited until November 2025 to make his first trek to North America with an 11-date run featuring his first U.S. festival booking. He chose Dreamstate because he’s always had a special place in his heart for trance and the emotional connection people have with the music.

“I love all dance music, but trance is the one that can kind of tug at your heartstrings a bit with those melodies, and the chord progression, and the way that the beats can be so crisp when they come in, and the way the bass hits,” he said.

Fish performed Friday night on “The Vision.” It’s the same stage played by legends Chicane and Paul Oakenfold this year and Darude last. He also co-headlined an hour-long B2B with Night 1 Dreamstate headliner Gareth Emery early Sunday morning, as the top-billed act for the festival’s afterparty in the Grand Salon of the iconic Queen Mary.

He made his way to LAX after stepping off stage at 3 a.m. to fly to New York and play the last three hours of a 24-hour rave.

Chicane and Fish56Octagon run into each other in the lobby of the Long Beach Hilton after playing the same stage Night 1 of Dreamstate.

(Niyaz Pirani)

Fish has tour dates in New Zealand and Australia toward the end of the year, plus the largest show of his career March 28 at London’s O2 Academy Brixton. He’s also releasing music for himself and others under his record label Octagon Discs.

As his audience multiplies, Fish’s earliest followers remain enthralled by his seemingly infinite rise.

“How did the dude who recommends second-hand cars get to this. So happy for you dude,” one fan wrote in the comments of his Dreamstate recap video post.

“Music was my number 1 passion but i thought I was too old. Thanks for the support bro,” Fish replied.

“Amazing,” another chimed in. “But I would not recognize u in the wild without the bathrobe.”

PinkPantheress broke out in 2021 with a series of charming and inventive singles that placed her high, breathy vocals over skittering beats built around easily recognizable samples. It was as though the English singer and producer were trying to insert herself into pop-music history from behind a laptop in her bedroom — which is pretty much what ended up happening.

In 2023, her song “Boy’s a Liar Pt. 2,” a collaboration with Ice Spice, went to No. 3 on Billboard’s Hot 100; several months later, she landed a song on the hit soundtrack of Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie.” Last year she went on the road as an opening act for Olivia Rodrigo, and now she’s nominated for her first two Grammy Awards: dance/electronic album for this year’s “Fancy That” and dance pop recording for the project’s opening track, “Illegal.”

With nine songs in only 20 minutes, “Fancy That” maintains the TikTok-era economy of PinkPantheress’ early work. It’s also full of samples from the likes of Underworld, Basement Jaxx and Panic! at the Disco — one reason, perhaps, the singer, 24, describes it as a mixtape rather than an album. (An accompanying remix set, “Fancy Some More?,” features appearances by Basement Jaxx, Kylie Minogue, Sugababes, Ravyn Lenae and Groove Armada, among many others.)

Yet “Fancy That” showcases an expanding emotional palette too — it’s by turns funny, wistful, horny, melancholy and unimpressed. She spoke about it over matcha lattes in Los Angeles, where she lives when she’s not back home in London. “If you’re a musician, it’s sold as the place to be,” she says of L.A. “I was trying not to like it, but I really do.”

You’re enjoying the city despite yourself.
I think for me, it was just a case of: When I’m comfortable somewhere, I don’t enjoy exploration. What I know to be safe is where I stay.

Why?
It’s something with the way my brain works — I don’t think it’s a choice. My brain associates change — different environments and travel — with fear. I don’t go on holiday because of that reason. I find it very difficult because I genuinely don’t feel safe. Doesn’t matter where I am.

What do you do in L.A.?
I hang out with my friends. I get food. I do all the regular things. But it’s taken me years. When I first got here, I wasn’t like, Oh my God — the Hollywood sign! It was just like, Lemme find my footing. I think getting my house was when I was OK. I don’t like the stress of going out somewhere and being worried about how I come across to people.

If you’re at a restaurant, it’s hard for you not to think about the fact that someone might know who you are.
On occasion, if I’m not disguised well enough.

What are the disguises?
I think I’m gonna stop wearing my hair out in public.

So pop stardom — enjoyable or not?
It’s as absurd as everyone says. But it is 100% what I’ve always wanted to be. So I can’t complain now.

I mean, you could.
But I shan’t.

That would be poor form?
I’m a big believer of my words having an effect on everything I do going forward. So if I was to become comfortable complaining about my job — when I worked so hard to get here — then it’s gonna carry with me and it’ll come out in my behavior.

Do you drive?
I love driving. That’s another reason I like it here, because I can drive.

You like driving here more than in London?
I have a nicer car here. Well, actually, I don’t have a car in London anymore. The police took it.

Why?
Don’t know.

You must know.
I actually just don’t know. I literally got there and it was gone, and I was like, Fine. It was so cheap — like 2,000 pounds.

What kind of car was it?
A Peugeot 208.

In a recent interview with Zane Lowe, you named the people you called your blueprints: M.I.A., Kelela and Tinashe. All are well–regarded trailblazers, but none of them, I would say, is a pop superstar. That made me wonder: Do you want to be top of the pops?
I feel like in order to be top of the pops, I’d have to compromise a lot about my artistic choices. However, if the post-“Brat” era has taught us anything about music, it’s that you can actually be as experimental as you want, and if it translates, it will translate. So actually it’s not necessarily a recipe that’s too formulaic, as one would think.

Do I want to be top of the pops? I think that might be too much pressure. I don’t enjoy having to explain myself, and I worry that being big would make me have to explain a lot about myself. However, I do want to be well-regarded. I do want to be influential. And I do want to not have to worry, How well will this do? It’s less about top of the pops and more about having a very loyal fan base, which I prioritize above everything else.

I spoke with Lorde recently, and she told me she aches to be understood even though she wishes she didn’t. You said you don’t like explaining yourself. But do you feel compelled to?
I would say I definitely under-explained myself early on. And unfortunately that was a crucial error because — had I been on top of explaining my music and my musical mind from the jump — maybe now I’d be taken more as a producer. But because I didn’t, and because of the way I present myself, I do think people take me as more surface-level pop, and I’m actually not — I’m actually fully an art girl, like all the women I’ve mentioned.

So it’s kind of gone from not explaining myself to explaining too much. I hated that, too, because then it got people asking me more questions. Now I don’t want to explain anything anymore.

You’ve got the Sugababes on your remix album. Great example of an act that’s beloved in England but couldn’t get arrested in the States. Why do you think some U.K. acts cross over and some don’t?
If you have someone on your marketing team that prioritizes America, then I’m 99% sure you can always do it. I don’t think American people are put off by Britishness — I don’t think the music is too crazy for them to get it. The reason I did well in America was because I used a platform where the majority of users are American.

You mean TikTok. Did you use TikTok because that was the platform you were good at or because you knew it was the platform with the broadest reach?
I had no idea how it worked — I just thought about what has the most reach. I’m a child of the internet. I’ve always been online.

What’s bad about the internet?
There was a time when I would have said nothing.

At what age?
Sixteen — even older, honestly. The whole push of generated stuff has made it so unbelievably different. Back when I was on the internet, you wouldn’t have to second-guess any post you saw.

Whereas now you have to question whether something is real or AI.
Is this propaganda or is this not? That’s bad.

Is TikTok still fun?
I don’t really go on social media at all, so I don’t know.

You just make your posts —
And dip. Or I interact with people that help me towards my craft. People that make fan edits, I love it, so I’ll interact with them. But I don’t really scroll.

Did someone say to you, “Listen, you need to stop scrolling”?
No. I actually have no vices, so I didn’t have a problem with it.

Everyone’s addicted to scrolling.
Hell no — I’m not. If I want to stop something, I can stop right now.

Do you drink? Smoke weed?
I can’t do any drugs. I get drunk once or twice a month, and that’s my limit. I make sure to count that.

Why no drugs?
I’m a hypochondriac.

What are you afraid of happening?
Dying. Also, it’s just not enjoyable for me. When I get drunk, that’s the best amount of chaos I can experience in my inner self.

Dying?
Too much coke could kill you — cause an arrhythmic heart. And as I’ve said, if I fear something, I’m not gonna step foot towards it.

“I don’t think American people are put off by Britishness,” says PinkPantheress. “I don’t think the music is too crazy for them to get it.”

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Who said no to being on the remix album?
No one said no. But I don’t ask people that I know are gonna say no — I just refuse to ask them. There was one person that was like, “Oh, I saw this too late” [makes “Yeah, right” face]. And one person didn’t reply. Maybe two people didn’t reply.

Were your feelings hurt?
No. Yeah. Maybe. When it comes to features and everything like that, I very much understand — I get how the mind of a singer works. I think people that get hurt are maybe not putting themselves in their shoes.

Surely you’ve said no to people at this point.
It’s a horrible feeling. And I try and make it work as much as possible. But sometimes it just doesn’t make sense. The vibes are off.

Have you heard the Lily Allen album?
Yes.

Thoughts?
Really good. And earnest.

She’s just laying out all her business.
She’s a Brit — that’s what we do.

Are Brits essentially earnest?
I think there’s something in our music that’s extremely earnest. That’s why you get someone like an Adele or someone like a Raye right now. You can feel them bleed. They’re bleeding out onto the stage — bleeding out onto the pieces of paper.

Beyond what we’ve talked about, I know virtually nothing about your personal life.
Exactly.

Whereas now I know a tremendous amount about Lily Allen’s. What do you make of that impulse to dump everything out into the world?
What I love about Lily Allen is that she’s always been very honest from Day 1. She’s an open book in interviews — she’s an open book everywhere. It works for her because it makes her very personable and makes her music all that more enjoyable because we feel like we’re actually experiencing her as a human being.

I would love to be that earnest. I simply don’t think I’ve gone through half the amount she’s gone through in her life. Because I fear so much, I end up not being in very exciting or controversial situations, and that could translate as boring. But I wouldn’t say I was a boring person. I relish in the mundaneness of interacting with others and the excitement of being myself. I’m actually obsessed with myself. When I’m with my best friend, we’re just so fun together. Other people, they’re like, “The f—?”

You’re on Coachella next year. You’ve talked about festivals not being your ideal performance venue.
I’m definitely better now, for sure. Two years ago, I was pretty s—.

What’d you learn from the tour you just finished?
Oh, a lot. I learnt that I’m in control of my body. I learnt that I’m in control of pretty much every element when I’m onstage. One thing I’m realizing as I talk is that the reason I don’t like drugs is because I like full control. When I’m onstage, for some reason, I always imagine that I’m gonna lose control — I’m gonna have to faint or have to run. I don’t know why, but that’s my biggest fear with performing, and hence why I’ve always been quite nervous.

But doing that tour made me realize that I can choose if I want to have a good time right now. And I chose to have a really good time — it was a really fun experience. I’m still learning how to dance. I’m still learning how to look good onstage. I think I’m built in quite a funny way, which makes me look long. And when you’re shaped in a long way and you have long limbs, you look bad at dancing.

You’re taller than I expected.
Every single person says that.

Why do we all think you’re going to be shorter?
My voice is quite high. I also think I shrink myself — less in physical ways and more in how I portray myself. I’m not like [shouts], “I’m here!” I’m more like [whispers], “I’m here.”

The singer of the band lights up a cigarette and smoke drifts into the theater. Ditto for the pungent aroma of marijuana when a few band members share a joint. “Stereophonic,” which is playing at the Hollywood Pantages through Jan. 2, isn’t biographical, but it sure feels close.

The authenticity springs in part from the quality of the songs being recorded by the fictional band on stage, which were written by Will Butler, a multi-instrumentalist and former member of the Grammy Award-winning band Arcade Fire.

“Stereophonic,” which holds the record for the most Tony nominations of all time for a play, unfolds over the course of a single year as a rock band on the cusp of megastardom struggles to record its second album as the first reaches No. 1 on the charts. While the pressure to produce a hit builds, the band falls apart. For proof of the formula’s resilience, look no further than the success of VH1’s “Behind the Music” series, which plumbed the depths of dozens of rock ’n’ roll train wrecks.

“We really tried to just make something real,” Butler said during an interview in the small, cluttered green room at Amoeba Music before he joined the cast of the show for a brief in-store performance. “This is three hours of what it’s like to make a record.”

Is it ever. There is something inherently combustible about being in a band. (Full disclosure: I played in a semi-popular indie band for a decade, which imploded with huge amounts of drama right on cue. I know at least a dozen other groups that have unraveled in similar fashion.) Despite, or rather because of, Arcade Fire’s massive popularity, Butler knows the crash-and-burn nature of being in a band. He joined Arcade Fire after one of its original members quit in the middle of an encore following a fight with the lead singer — Butler’s older brother, Win Butler.

Will Butler left Arcade Fire at the end of 2021, saying at the time that the decision came about organically. “There was no acute reason beyond that I’ve changed — and the band has changed — over the last almost 20 years. Time for new things,” he wrote on social media.

Will Butler performs at Amoeba Music with Claire DeJean and the stars of the Broadway tour of “Stereophonic,” which follows the rise of a struggling 1970s rock band.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“Stereophonic” was one of those new things, and Butler has brought his understanding of volatile band dynamics to bear in his work on the show, as well as his thoughts on the fragile, ephemeral nature of recording in a studio.

“There’s a little booth, and you go into the booth and you lose your mind,” Butler said of the experience of laying down a track. “And you exit the booth and you’re just a boring human.”

The boring — and boorish — parts of that humanity are on display in “Stereophonic,” where there is more control room conflict than actual music making. This also feels true to form. Romances blossom and bottom out in spectacular fashion. Drugs are consumed in copious amounts — particularly cocaine. This is 1976, after all. The long-suffering recording engineer reaches his breaking point after becoming totally fed up with the band’s self-absorbed, self-destructive behavior.

Human beings weren’t meant to create art in this particular kind of pressure cooker. Until they do. There is a moment in the making of every great song when each musician becomes part of the whole during the act of recording, and the band’s genius is temporarily realized. The song can’t be made by any one member — it can only come from the spontaneous transcendence of the group.

This moment happens in “Stereophonic” after a truly frustrating number of stops and starts, when the group plays a song so beautifully that the theater erupts in effusive applause. This is why the band stays together despite its constant feuding — and why the audience has come.

“We really tried to just make something real,” Will Butler said of “Stereophonic.” “This is three hours of what it’s like to make a record.”

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“The music in this show has to crack open the world because it’s so much talking and it’s so much sitting around,” Butler said. “And then when they play music, you have to instantly realize why they’re together.”

Butler first met playwright David Adjmi and heard his idea for the show in 2014. Butler was intrigued, but had to wait for the script before he could work on the music in earnest. The songs needed to fit into the script like puzzle pieces, Butler said. Sometimes he needed to write a whole song and other times he needed to focus on composing the first 30 seconds of a song — which would be heard on repeat.

“And then we cast it, and now the music exists in a different way,” Butler said, noting that the music changes with every new cast. A cast — like a band — has its own particular strengths and weaknesses. No rhythm section is ever the same. You know John Bonham’s tom fills when you hear them, just as you can immediately recognize the sound of Ringo Starr’s hi-hats.

None of the actors in the national tour cast of “Stereophonic” — except for the drummer — are trained musicians.

(Julieta Cervantes)

The whole process of constructing “Stereophonic” as a play is very meta — with Butler producing the band that is in turn producing itself onstage in the studio. During the course of the show, one of the songs is actually recorded live and played back from the control room. It is slightly different each time, in ways both meaningful and incidental. Just like in real life.

The in-store performance at Amoeba, however, is wildly different from what happens onstage at the Pantages. The cast members are not — with the exception of the drummer — trained musicians, and stripped of the confidence that comes with costumes and a set, they appear somewhat vulnerable in the process.

This is in stark contrast to Butler, who displays all the verve and conviction of a bona fide rock star. The cast will do the same across the street later that night. For the moment, however, Butler is showing them just how it’s done.

Even though Visalia holds the title of being the oldest city in the San Joaquin Valley, it’s more likely a place you’ve passed through on your way to visit General Sherman or the infamous carved Tunnel Log. Many Angelenos don’t even know how to properly pronounce its name.

But Visalia (say it: vai-SAY-lee-uh) — a place long known as “the gateway to the Sequoias” for its proximity to Sequoia and Kings Canyon national parks — is becoming a destination in its own right.

The 151-year-old Central Valley city has been working hard to shed its bucolic stereotypes and reinvent itself as a cosmopolitan oasis with hip boutiques, craft breweries and a revamped downtown. Changes started happening about five years ago when the Darling Hotel opened in the bones of the former 1930s Tulare County Courthouse annex. The Art Deco boutique hotel offers chic accommodations, catering to design-savvy travelers. Nowadays, downtown’s East Main Street, which plays host to tchotke-laden antique stores and patio dining, is a vibrant, walkable hub. At First Friday Downtown Art Walks, people can groove to a steady playlist of popular tunes thanks to a speaker system the city installed along the sidewalks. And although its Chinatown has been dismantled for years, many Chinese restaurants and a sizable Asian population remain, along with some of the community’s original Asian-inspired architecture along Main Street.

With farmlands nearby, farmers markets are held not once, but twice a week in Visalia’s downtown area, while local farms offer pick-your-own visits and plenty of restaurants make use of the local and seasonal produce at their disposal (seek out the honey glazed shrimp made with locally grown walnuts at Canton Restaurant as well as the berry pies and fruit preserves at the Vintage Press Restaurante).

Counterculture types will find respite at music and vintage store Velouria Records, cult film fans can catch free and low-cost screenings at the historic Visalia Fox Theater and paranormal-enthusiasts can chase spirits on ghost tours or late-night jaunts to the notoriously haunted Visalia Public Cemetery. There is even an extensive underground tunnel system — once used to operate gambling joints and opium dens — that still exists below downtown. Some people still find their way into them — those who aren’t deterred by massive spiders or trespassing charges, that is.

The city comes together for annual events, such as the twice-yearly downtown Wine Walk, the culinary extravaganza Taste of Visalia or the wintertime tradition Candy Cane Lane Parade, which celebrates its 79th anniversary this month. Also notable: Visalia became the first city in the United States to be designated a Certified Autism Destination in 2022, training at least 80% of its guest and public-facing staff in autism and sensory disorders.

As the city continues shucking its former reputation as a drive-by dot on the map, SoCal residents seeking a weekend escape only a few hours away would do well to take note. There is plenty of natural beauty to be found in the area, and one doesn’t have to drive into the higher elevations of the Southern Sierra Nevada Mountains to get some adventure time in. Rent a boat or a kayak at nearby Lake Kaweah, strap on a helmet and do some whitewater rafting in Three Rivers or wander through preserved wetlands that have been untouched for centuries.

It might not be the first place on your California vacation bucket list, but Visalia is worthy of a visit — and with its rapidly changing cityscape, will likely have more to offer with each passing year.

Dec. 15 (UPI) — Spotify said Monday an unknown glitch hampered service for thousands of users of the music streamer.

The streaming platform Spotify experienced a brief disruption to its services in the morning hours, according to updates on social media.

“All clear! Thanks for your patience,” Spotify Status posted on X at 10:34 a.m. local time.

Spotify first acknowledged the issue around 9:45 a.m. local time. But the cause remains unclear.

“We’re aware of some issues right now and are checking them out!” officials wrote in the morning.

At one point, Downdetector showed more than 10,000 reports on the issue.

The company followed up roughly an hour later confirming the outage had been resolved by 10:34 a.m. local time.

In May, Spotify announced that Apple had approved its app update following a federal court ruling that found the tech giant in violation of an earlier injunction.

Meanwhile, Spotify said Monday if users still experience issues they can find out more on a community support thread page it posted.

MICKEY ROURKE is trying to get his movie career back on track – despite his Celebrity Big Brother disgrace.

The veteran Hollywood star was booted off the ITV reality show earlier this year for his “unacceptable behaviour.”

But luckily for Mickey his name has been linked to two big-screen biopics.

One is about the life of Black Sabbath legend Ozzy Osbourne while another will be on US country legend Johnny Cash.

One of my Hollywood insiders said Mickey’s name had repeatedly come up in meetings about the films when discussions turned to casting the older versions of the music legends.

They told me: “Producers here don’t even know about the Celebrity Big Brother thing, Mickey is golden in the States.

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“This town also loves an underdog, and movie bosses think Mickey still has an Oscar-worthy performance they can wring out of him.

“He was a top actor back in the day — he would have been on a par with James Dean and Marlon Brando if he hadn’t taken wrong turns and gone down a bad path.

If the evil overlords of Hollywood give us the green light we could be filming in the spring

Jack Osbourne

“There are scripts in the pipeline on Ozzy and Johnny, and Mickey’s name has come up in meetings about both projects.

“They want to portray Ozzy’s final days before that amazing show at Villa Park, and they want a performance like Mickey gave in The Wrestler.

“They’re confident he could do it.”

It’s understood streaming giants Amazon MGM and Apple are interested in both projects, with big-name directors in the frame to oversee it — including Martin Scorsese.

Ozzy’s son Jack Osbourne first told me they were working on a film about his dad’s life before Ozzy’s homecoming show back in July.

Jack said: “We do have the film on the way. We have a lot of good forward momentum on the Ozzy biopic.

“We have a director attached now and the script is done and Sony Studios is going to be producing it.

“We are really excited about it so maybe we will do the premiere here in Birmingham.

“If the evil overlords of Hollywood give us the green light we could be filming in the spring so maybe it will be out summer 2027 — fingers crossed.”

I’m sure Mickey will be crossing his toes, as well as his fingers, that he gets the part.

JAMIE LEE: IT’S FREAKIER ONLINE

HER long-awaited sequel to 2003’s Freaky Friday – imaginatively titled Freakier Friday – went down a storm with fans.

And Hollywood legend Jamie Lee Curtis says she knows exactly why we are seeing a resurgence in sequels and prequels.

Speaking to comedian Geoff Norcott on this Times Radio show, Jamie said: “Nostalgia is very hot right now.

“Because people are feeling so freaked out by what’s happening that you cling, you cling to nostalgia to make you feel safe.”

Jamie, whose new film Ella McCay is out now, went on to slam cancel culture and attacks on free speech.

She added: “We’re all trying to figure out, what can we say? What can’t we say?

“The echo chamber is awful. Social media is awful. You say something that you believe in, you get hammered for it. I mean, hardcore.

“It’s hard to hold on to both the frustration you’re feeling but the sense of optimism and hope.

“I feel hope because I believe that the hatred is imploding, and I think we’re seeing it.”

IT’S STAR SHREK

THE life of a Bizarre reporter isn’t all red carpets and bubbly – sometimes you end up in a swamp with an ogre and a talking donkey.

Our Jack was invited backstage at the latest adaptation of Shrek: The Musical at Colchester’s Charter Hall to meet the cast before they kicked off their near sold-out run at the venue.

With Red Dwarf’s Danny John Jules as Donkey and CITV’s Chris Edgerley as Lord Farquaad, the show is based on the hit 2001 film starring Mike Myers and Eddie Murphy.

Shrek and Princess Fiona are played by Joseph Rawlings and Rachel Jerram.

A refreshing change from the annual festive panto, the cast delivered a brilliant version of the big screen hit with a seriously impressive set to match.

Shout out to Ceris Hine as the perfectly executed Gingy, delivering our favourite Gingerbread Man performance of the year.

Chatting backstage about playing the pint-sized villain, Chris explained how spending the show on his knees left him in agony at times.

He said: “I’m a lot taller than Farquaad so I’m knee-padded up to the hilt but it’s worth it.

“Halfway through rehearsals we had to add extra padding as it was hurting too much.

“Hopefully the audience will have as much fun as we do.”

Unlike the fairytale dictator, this musical certainly doesn’t come up short.

JAMIE’S SO FESTIVE

Jamie Cullum: The Pianoman At Christmas @ Royal Albert Hall, London

★★★★★

THERE’S nothing more festive than a trip to London’s Royal Albert Hall at Christmas – although a Jamie Cullum show there beats anything else to get you in the spirit.

Inspired by his criminally underrated 2020 album The Pianoman At Christmas, his two-hour seasonal spectacle, backed by a big band – “this is what expensive musicians sound like,” he half-joked – was an absolute treat.

And soon there will be more. He said of himself and wife Sophie Dahl : “We are trying to write the film of the Pianoman At Christmas.

“I told her I was going to announce it tonight so now we have to finish it.”

His voice is as smooth as a pricey whiskey and sounded just as great doing his original numbers as it did with family favourites Frosty The Snowman and Jingle Bells.

And as for Hang Your Lights, it deserves to be a modern Christmas classic.

Forget the turkey and mistletoe, Jamie Cullum’s annual festive show should be a staple of everyone’s Christmas.

HOWELL DAVIES

LILY’S SKIT ON STRANGER FLINGS

DAVID HARBOUR has another TV show to avoid, after his ex-wife Lily Allen called up Dakota Johnson to bring her infamous “Madeline” to life on Saturday Night Live.

During the show, Lily performed her explosive track Tennis – with Dakoka playing the “other woman” Madeline.

At the end of Lily’s performance, Dakota brought Madeline to life and appeared to reveal for the first time what this other woman may have told Lily about allegedly getting with David behind her back.

Dakota said: “I hate that you’re in so much pain right now.

“I really don’t want to be the cause of any upset.

“He told me that you were aware this was going on and that he had your full consent.

“’If he’s lying about that, then please let me know.

“Because I have my own feelings about dishonesty. Lies are not something that I want to get caught up in.”

Dakota then planted a kiss on Lily’s cheek as she said: “Love and light, Madeline.”

THE father of singer Selena Quintanilla has died at the age of 86, his family has confirmed.

Abraham Quintanilla Jr. died on Saturday; his son, A.B. Quintanilla III, confirmed it on Instagram.

“It’s with a heavy heart to let you guys know that my Dad passed away today…,” he wrote.

A cause of death has not yet been revealed.

He famously managed the career of his daughter Selena, overseeing her rise to fame in the late 1980s before she was killed in 1995.

The iconic singer known for her hits including Como la Flor and Dreaming of You, was murdered in Texas by her friend and former nurse Yolanda Saldivar.

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Saldivar was president of Selena’s fan club and manager of her boutiques business, jobs that she lost shortly before the murder after it was discovered that she had been embezzling money.

She was denied parole in March this year after being sentenced to 30 years to life behind bars in October 1995.

Her next opportunity for parole will be in March 2030.

After the death of his daughter, Abraham made it his mission to preserve her legacy as the Queen of Tejano Music and one of the greatest Latino artists of all time, as named by Billboard magazine.

News of her murder shocked the nation, especially those in her home state of Texas, with the then governor George W. Bush declaring April 16 as Selena Day.

Her album, Dreaming of You, released after her death, soared to the top of the Billboard 200 – a first for a Latin artist.

Two years later, the film Selena was released by Warner Bros, starring Jennifer Lopez at the beginning of her career.

Selena: The Series was released by Netflix in 2020, documenting her life and career and featuring Christian Serratos from The Walking Dead.

This has been followed this year by the November release of the new Netflix doc, Selena y Los Dinos: A Family’s Legacy.

It is told by her immediate family including her father.

In it, he recalled the time he first took his daughter to a record label in San Antonio with the hope of launching her career.

“At first, they were skeptical because it’s a girl — and a young girl. I said, ‘Well, let’s give it a try one time,’” he said.

It was then that she recorded her first song and was catapulted to fame.

In the latest episode of The Envelope video podcast, Tonatiuh discusses the grassroots efforts he spearheaded to get “Kiss of the Spider Woman” in front of communities Hollywood may not always reach, and “Song Sung Blue’s” Kate Hudson explains what makes a good music movie.

Kelvin Washington: Hello, everyone, welcome to another episode of The Envelope. Kelvin Washington here. You know who I’m with: Yvonne Villarreal, Mark Olsen, glad to be here with you. Thanks for watching and listening.

All right, let’s get it started. Mark, you had a chance to talk to Tonatiuh. And of course, this is a big moment for him. This is something he worked hard for and now getting a lot of recognition for — “Kiss of the Spider Woman.” Tell me a little bit more about your chat.

Mark Olsen: That’s right. So earlier this year at the Sundance Film Festival, there just was this great moment at the premiere of Bill Condon’s adaptation of the musical version of “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” where just to see a showcase like this for someone is so exciting. Tonatiuh, he’s acting, he’s singing, he’s dancing. There’s like so much in this performance. It’s wonderful to to see. He has a lot of poise and charisma just simply in conversation. So it made for a really exciting talk.

Washington: And also the difficulty playing multiple roles, right? I mean, I would imagine that would have been challenging.

Olsen: That’s right, in the structure of the film, he plays a political prisoner in a South American jail and he’s explaining a favorite movie of his to his cellmate, played by Diego Luna, and then he also becomes the dashing leading man of that movie [within] the movie.

Washington: Right. Diego, also Jennifer Lopez, so obviously around some big stars. I swing over to you — speaking of big stars, Kate Hudson has been one for for a long time.

Villarreal: I thought you were talking about me!

Washington: You thought I was talking about Kate? You and then Kate, of course.

Villarreal: Obviously.

Washington: Kate Hudson, a big star for for some years now, half of a tribute band for Neil Diamond, “Song Sung Blue.” Tell me a little bit about this.

Villarreal: I feel like it’s the perfect pairing to have both these guests in this episode. This one also showcases, you know, her singing abilities and her performing abilities as an actor — two of her passions. She recently released an album, and with this movie, we really get to see Kate onstage and embodying what that’s like. We see this couple who find success as this Neil Diamond tribute band, but in the middle of the height of that, her character Claire suffers a big tragedy and it really derails everything, and she has to find her way back to that. And it was a really touching conversation to hear Kate sort of embody that and her own thoughts on, you know, when you come from a world like this, it’s not a guarantee, and you have to really have passion for that. Hearing her talking about spending time with Neil Diamond at his cabin. And she sang for us a little bit. When you leave that film, I feel like there’s an instinct to go home and just listen to Neil Diamond. I know I did. Hopefully we can go karaoke at some point.

Washington: “Sweet Caroline…”

Villarreal: Do you have a Neil Diamond go-to, Mark?

Olsen: Well, I love the “Hot August Night” album recorded live at the Greek Theatre here in Los Angeles, so I’ll go with any of the tunes from that one.

Washington: I’m still upset with the both of you that I there was no “Bah, bah bah…” [to continue his “Sweet Caroline”].

Villarreal: Hugh Jackman’s character would not go for that. I’m just saying.

Washington: Would have joined me? Or not going for it, like you two leaving me hanging?

Villareal: He doesn’t want us to start with “Sweet Caroline.” You gotta go further than that. But I’ll allow it now.

Washington: Deep cuts?

Villarreal: Deep cuts.

Washington: All right, we’ll talk some more about it while you enjoy Mark and Tonatiuh.

Tonatiuh in “Kiss of the Spider Woman.”

(Roadside Attractions)

Mark Olsen: It seems like you’ve been approaching your career with such a sense of intentionality and purpose. And I would imagine, especially as a young actor starting out, you’re not necessarily in control of the roles that you get, what you could do. What have you done or how do you feel like you are trying to take that control and have that sort of intentionality in the roles that you take and what you’re doing with your career in this industry?

Tonatiuh: Well, I think I’ll pivot a little bit and say I’ve been working for 12 years as a working-class actor. I’ve been on an ABC show [“Promised Land”] as a series regular. I was in “Carry-On,” which at the time it was the No. 2 most-watched movie on Netflix, but I think we’re now at No. 5. “KPop Demon Hunters” slayed. But the only control that I really have is saying yes or no to auditions. I’m not necessarily getting offered roles. I’ve had an entire career where if I sit around and wait for someone to come knocking on my door, I will starve. And I didn’t get into this for the celebrity. I got into this because of the social impact that it had on my own life. Art to me is a mirror as to who we are as a country and who we are as people. And so it gives us an opportunity to really reflect on that, but it also gives us a destination to where we want to be. A lot of my sense of humor came from the TV shows and films that I watched growing up. And I was introduced to cultures that were different than mine. …

I think with this specific project, with “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” it was a role of a lifetime. Bill Condon wrote a fantastic script where we not only got to tell one movie but we get to tell two. We time travel and go back into a 1950s-style musical, and I get to live my Gene Kelly, Errol Flynn, Montgomery Clift fantasy with the character of Kendall Nesbitt. But then with the character of Molina, I get to be this almost genderless expression. In the totality of the film I get to play the gender spectrum. Hypermasculinity, classic masculinity, very Hollywood masculinity with Kendall, a genderless expression with Molina. And then at the very end you get a little surprise of a full female fantasy.

Olsen: Whether intended or not, this film is being released to a specific cultural and political moment. In particular, as someone who identifies as nonbinary and is the American-born child of an immigrant family, how are you processing the moment the movie is coming out to?

Tonatiuh: It comes in waves. It’s different waves. At first it was “Wow, how crazy relevant our film is,” and that’s powerful. And when I accepted the role, we’re giving the Hollywood treatment to a bunch of marginalized communities and we’re telling truly with our film, “Latinos are Hollywood.” In that era, in the 1950s, there weren’t very many, if at all, Latin stars, especially those who were allowed to be the leads in those films. And so with this we’re almost kind of rewriting history and subversively saying, “No, no, we’ve always been here” and reminding people of the dignity and the beauty of that. But, comma, we also are doing that for the queer experience. So Molina, in my view, is what we would consider in 2025 genderqueer. And we’re putting Molina right at the center, at the heart of the film. And my mission statement, and the whole reason I lost 45 pounds in 50 days, was to ensure that we can focus on their heart and their eyes and not even consider thinking about what their gender possibly could be. You’re just falling in love with a form, a person.

Olsen: This role, of course, in the original film was played by William Hurt. Do you feel it was important to have a queer performer in the part of Molina? What does that do for the story?

Tonatiuh: There’s a lot of lived experience that can go into the DNA of a character, right? But there’s also a sense of responsibility. I have met so many incredible, beautiful, gender-diverse individuals in my life. And so being able to center someone like that and to tell it with as much love, it’s just a little bit more icing on the cake. And there’s creative conversations as things are being built where you have to add and pitch perspectives that maybe someone missed because they don’t necessarily have that exact experience. I don’t necessarily subscribe to, “You always have to cast the person for the thing.” Although I relate and understand Molina, I’m an artist and my job is to bring that humanity to them. I don’t have to be identical to that person. That’s where my artistry comes from. But I think that the reverence and the respect and that sense of responsibility is what makes this unique.

Olsen: Your final number in the movie you begin in a tuxedo and you end in a dress.

Tonatiuh: With a 26-inch waist, mind you. Clock the waist.

Olsen: And there’s just something extremely powerful about that.

Tonatiuh: I mean, there’s something really cool about it. People weren’t expecting the flip with Kendall. So all of a sudden it’s like, “Wait, that’s the same guy. Now he’s looking dapper with a mid-Atlantic accent.” And then at the very end it’s a quite shocking revelation when we look down the barrel of the camera and she’s gorgeous. But that was the beauty of it. Molina dreams of being a Hollywood starlet. And I think, for me as an artist, this will probably be the only time in my life where I get to play a leading lady and a leading man at the same time. It was really special.

Olsen: Molina doesn’t really see themselves as a political person in the beginning of the film —

Tonatiuh: No, not at all.

Olsen: And part of the the journey of the film is Molina coming to realize that they are part of this fight whether they want to be or not.

Tonatiuh: Well, I think Molina falls in love. I think Molina felt like a loser in their own life who wasn’t capable of even defending themselves, right? They were just trying to survive. And there’s this twisted internalized messaging that children of marginalized groups or people who have been bullied, they start doing it to themselves as a way of protecting themselves from the world. Like, “I’ll punch myself first before you can, and I’ll make it funnier. Actually, it’ll be my whole personality.” And I think that there’s something healing in that. Valentin’s character says, “I’m disgusted when you’d make fun of yourself like that. Where’s your self-respect?” And I don’t think that they understood self-respect because I don’t think they experienced it before. And so it took living in a prison cell to find dignity again. And these two men who are diametrically opposed were able to drop all facades. They were stripped of their comforts, they were stripped of the very masks that they used to protect themselves and were forced to see each other in order to connect. And I think that’s a larger theme that’s happening in the world. I think we’re constantly being told that we’re divided and we’re not similar. But I think at the end of the day, we all want similar things. We want to feed our children. If something, God forbid, happens to us, we don’t want to go into medical debt over it. We want joy, we want community, we want connection, and I think that vulnerability is the price we pay for that connection.

Olsen: I was at the premiere of the movie at the Sundance Film Festival —

Tonatiuh: Were you really? Oh man, I wasn’t. I was fully disassociated that day.

Olsen: And something happened in that room. I think the entire audience felt they had seen someone arrive. What have the past few months been like since then?

Tonatiuh: I don’t know if I’ve arrived with this role. I’ve been preparing for this moment my entire life. I am an artist and I love what I do. And one of the biggest gifts that I got was I got to meet people, yes, at the top of their game like Jennifer Lopez and Diego Luna. But every dancer in our film was a person of color, a Latin dancer, people from the Black community, and they are also at the top of their game on Broadway. And that’s the beautiful part. I’ve met so many artists who were just dying for the opportunity. I feel like all of us are in waiting. And so it’s not for lack of talent, it’s for lack of opportunity. And with this, I am very proud of the work that I’ve done. I don’t know if I’ve arrived. People still have to see the movie, you know? And I have to get the next job. So we’ll see when that comes. But as an artist, I am feeling more emboldened to continue telling the stories that I want to tell and to continue sharing this 15 seconds of limelight with the things that I value. I think that’s what my mission statement is as an artist.

Olsen: What was it about this role that made you realize from the start that you were going to really grab it with both hands?

Tonatiuh: Well, I have no choice. No, no, no. After the strikes, after COVID. And I don’t wanna make this sound like a pity party, but the roles tend to go to the same 15 people. And I don’t come from nepotism. My mom was an immigrant in this country. She worked at a Jack in the Box drive-thru when she first got here. But I had a dream, and she and I and a bunch of my friends and community along the way just kept pushing and trying to make it happen. And so when you get three-dimensional characters, two, when you get three-dimensional characters and a really dynamic script. You gotta take it and fight. And I wanted to give it all. And it also was so important. We’re centering people who are currently being called terrorists for simply existing in this world. How can I not give them honor? This is our love letter to them. This is our way of saying we love you, we see you, and you’re not alone.

Olsen: Tell me about some of the outreach you’ve been doing to get the film in front of people and communities Hollywood may not always reach.

Tonatiuh: So I partnered with a couple of great individuals. It started off with my friend Ruben Garcia, who owns this incredible company called Mosaico. And we wanted to activate the Latin community and get people excited to come and see it. But then I kept thinking, “Man, our community has been going through a lot recently. And the country as a whole is experiencing some financial difficulties.” So I kept asking myself, “How do we give a little love and entertainment to folks?” So I reached out. I started calling friends. I started calling nonprofits. I started calling corporations and just saying, “Here’s what the mission is. We’d love to just gift things to people.” And so we created a small impact fund where we received some donations and we handed out QR codes. We just wanted to treat people for opening weekend, and we gifted tickets to the L.A. LGBT center because they have a youth services program. Los Angeles [has] one of the country’s biggest populations of unhoused queer youth. And it was important for me that they see themselves onscreen, that this is possible for them, that they get the Hollywood treatment. We gifted it to organizations that are helping with immigrant defense funds. We gifted it to their staff because they also need a little joy in their life.

And then another personal favorite was the very high school where I started acting, West Covina High School, is a public school. Their Teacher, Kim Battersby, was always going above and beyond, spending countless hours after school, over the weekend, and then she even had kids along the process. It is the performing arts programs that helped me see more of who I was. I felt like a weird little queer kid, I call it queer-do, in high school. And it was the on the stage where I felt I could practice being other people and seeing what worked and what didn’t and to learn more of who I was. I brought them out to the Grove and we filled it up with them and they dressed to the nines. They all got dressed up as if they were going to a premiere of their own. It was so sweet. And after the film, I thanked them and we took pictures and they were crying. Because they saw themselves. I taught some of them. And it was so sweet. And some of them shared their hearts with me and said that they’ve been scared of leaving the house because of what’s happening. That they’re walking around with their passports. That some of them feel like they’re invisible and that with this movie they felt seen. It was really touching.

Olsen: What does that mean to you? What do you hope those audiences receive from the film?

Tonatiuh: I mean, I think watch it. And be pleasantly surprised as to what the movie’s about. I don’t want to give too much away, naturally, because of course it’s fun to be surprised at a film. But I think our film does two wonderful things. It does hold up a mirror and it also reminds us of what we’re really about. And it creates so much joy. I mean, Jennifer, Diego, Bill, Colleen [Atwood], the incredible costumes; you get to see something that feels out of this time. And I think we could use a little Hollywood glamour right now.

Olsen: Can you talk about the challenge of this being essentially two performances — Molina in prison and then Kendall in the fantasy sequences?

Tonatiuh: Completely different performances. There are two different films with two different acting styles. And two different worlds to build. So let’s look at the movie. The first one, we were transported back into the 1950s, classic Hollywood. And so the first thing that I did as soon as I got the script is I called Bill and I said, “All right, give me every movie you want to reference, and I’ll watch as many of them as I could while preparing for it.” And I thought to myself, “Who is a wonderful tortured soul” — because Kendall’s really tortured — “that I could emulate?” And I instantly thought of Montgomery Clift, in “The Heiress” specifically. And I was just like, “Man, I want his energy, but I want to dance like Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly. And so preparing before set, I would just watch as many of these films as I was getting ready in the hair and makeup trailer. But there, you know, it’s down to the mannerisms, the small microexpressions, really trying to nail that acting style because it’s proscenium. But the crazy part is we’re a shoestring budget movie. I mean, it’s a musical, so it’s a little bit bigger than other independent films, but we only had about 20 days to shoot 12 musical numbers. And Bill wanted to shoot it in that style, which means if he could get away with a single take, he was gonna try to get away with a single take. And it took a powerhouse like Jennifer Lopez, but also Diego and myself, to really focus and nail those moments. And there’s one moment in particular, “Give Me Love,” [with] Jennifer in the Cyd Charisse green dress, making a nod to “Les Girls” and also “Singin’ in the Rain,” where I wasn’t even called to set and I was just there watching nonstop because I was like, “My God, this feels like I’m watching Marilyn or Rita or Cyd herself doing it.”

But then the second part was a naturalistic drama — well, a little bit of a fantasy, but inside of an Argentinian prison. And like I said, my mission statement was to make Molina as genderless as possible. I had just come off of “Carry-On,” so I had to lose 45 pounds in about 50 days. And this is not a commercial for Ozempic. I wish GLP-1 was sponsoring this because that would have been helpful. But no, I did it the old-fashioned way. I starved. But it was worth it. I really wanted to get that look and find his voice and the accent and transport us back into Argentina in the 1980s.

Olsen: But at the same time, is there some point of connection? Are the things that you’re doing in the two halves of the movie meant to bring them together?

Tonatiuh: Well, the two films are intrinsically connected. It’s Molina’s favorite film, but it’s also their diary. It’s their confession. Oftentimes it’s easier for us to say I love you through someone else’s song, or to say I’m scared. We look to films and music to transport us, to heal us. And so it starts off with Molina just sharing a little bit about who they are through their favorite film, but then it ends up becoming their confessions and their soul.

Olsen: Can you talk about the audition process and what it took to get this role?

Tonatiuh: I never feel really qualified to talk about the audition process because for me, this is how it went. They had been looking for months. I didn’t know about the project. I didn’t hear about it until Dec. 18 or 19, something like that. At that point, Hollywood’s completely shut down. I’m confident I was like the last person to hear about this audition. And then I locked myself up in a room after reading the material and just working it over and over and over again, until I found that throughline. ‘Cause there’s so many ways of telling a musical. Dec. 22, literally days before Christmas, I got a call saying, “You’re gonna come to New York. Jan. 2nd, 9 a.m.” Next thing you know, I’m doing a tango and a Bob Fosse number and singing in front of Bill Condon and [producer] Bernie Telsey. And then a little table read with Diego Luna and I get a text message from Bill saying, “Call me.” And I was like, “Oh man, it’s either ‘Call me, I’m sorry’ or ‘Call me, you got it’ and it was ‘You got it.’

Olsen: And then what was your audition number? What song did you do?

Tonatiuh: “She’s a Woman.” And with that number, it was so interesting because there were so many ways of telling that as well. My audition actually was from more so the point of view of Molina singing it, but within the context of the film, Kendall sings it. And so there becomes this almost “Victor/Victoria” moment where it’s Molina’s “I Want” song through Kendall Nesbitt. but played by Molina because he hated the original actor who was Kendall Nesbitt. And so it was really a thought process to think, “OK, well, how would the original Kendall do it and pay nods to him? But if Molina was able to take over his body and tell it, how would then he say it?”

Olsen: Jennifer Lopez’s performances in the musical numbers is a great reminder of why she is who she is. What was it like to see that up close?

Tonatiuh: What’s the quote? I feel it was like watching lightning strike. It was powerful and awe-inspiring. I mean, it was just incredible. But it was one of those moments, as soon as they say, “You’re gonna be singing and dancing with Jennifer Lopez,” it was like, “Oh, OK. Time to level up.” It felt like I was getting an invitation to the Olympics. I mean, these are some of the greats. Jennifer’s fantastic. Diego Luna is a phenomenal actor. Bill Condon is a master at this craft, specifically with musicals. And then even Colleen Atwood, who did all of our costumes, and Christine Cantella. They transported us with those fabrics, you know. And so it was really one of those moments like, “Oh wow, I’m I’m finally getting the invitation to go into the ring,” and it was either level up or die.

Olsen: And I know that in some ways they were almost two production units.

Tonatiuh: There were completely two different different productions.

Olsen: What was it like having to shift gears between the musical fantasia of the story within the story and the prison scenes that are, as you said, these very naturalistic, very dramatic scenes with Diego. How did you manage that?

Tonatiuh: I always joke around because people are like, “How did you start acting?” And I’m usually like, “My acting was a trauma response,” you know, just to survive and code-switch in the world. But jokes aside, I think that being able to shift quickly allows me to go from culture to culture, set to set, and just adapt quickly to that. We had a wonderful crew in Uruguay, which was amazing. But Bill Condon is an actor’s director. Once we went to Uruguay, he sat us down and we did traditional theater table reads. We sat at the table for a week and a half and we just talked about the script, beat by beat, moment by moment, really carving out what our thoughts were and his thoughts were. Sometimes we disagreed. Things in the script changed. He was so open to our perspectives — like we [were] the heads of the department for our individualized perspective, essentially. And the beauty of what we did was we shot this in order. It’s a two-man play. And so the first time that you see Molina entering the cell, meeting Valentin, was the first time that Diego and I ever saw each other in full character. These two people are discovering who they are with every passing scene and dropping the facades. But we as actors were learning to depend on one another. I always joke around that this is like the Stanford prison experiment, because we were in the cell before the sun went up, and we were out of the cell after the sun went down, straight to the hotel and back. And we were shooting in the dead of winter in Uruguay, so there was very little sunlight to begin with. So it was one of those moments where it was like we needed each other, and we created amongst ourselves a deep and and very personal bond.

Olsen: And tell me more about working with Bill, especially on the musical numbers. There are some extremely long and extended pieces of onscreen dancing.

Tonatiuh: He’s incredibly meticulous. In a good way. He has already thought about exactly what vision he wants. Down to the very film that plays in the theater at the end was a deliberate choice. And so it was really exciting because he invites you to his world and because he prioritizes the table reads, we’re able to fully understand what he’s trying to sell. So then we already know, we’re finely tuned to it. But everybody on the set, and those sets alone were just glorious. I felt like I was walking into the Titanic. It was incredible. And our choreographers, Chris Scott, Sergio Trujillo, Brandon Bieber, they also worked with Bill to basically do a dance between the camera and the dancers themselves. Because if you look back at old movies with Fred Astaire or with Gene Kelly, specifically Fred Astaire, they would zoom out just to show you from head to toe, we are dancing. This isn’t edited. It’s not done in the cut. Which was really, really cool.

Olsen: With everything that you’ve put into this project, how do you move forward from here? What is it that you see for yourself moving forward?

Tonatiuh: Well, with this project specifically, I think what I want is to get it into the hands of the people who I know will absolutely love it because I think that there’s a healing process in watching this, especially watching it in cinemas. It’s communal. The energy shifts and the technicolor washes over you in a way that a cellphone could never. But moving after that, I’m excited. My favorite thing is to transform. I’ve literally sat in theaters this weekend where people had no idea I was sitting next to them and that was me onscreen, and then I wait in the lobby to take pictures. Some people come up and they’re shocked that I’m there, A, but B that I look so different. And I didn’t get fat. I’m back to my normal weight, OK? I lost weight for Molina. But I love to transform. And up until this point in my career, I’ve only I’ve had a limited amount of ability to transform. I hope to be completely unrecognizable in my next role. And I don’t know what that’s gonna be. If I want to be a hero, if I want to play a villain, do something in the sci-fi world, an action world. I don’t know exactly what that is. And of course, I’d love to also go to Broadway. There’s one play in particular that I’ve been circling now for the last eight months, and I’m inches from putting it up. I’m inches from getting the rights. But I’m saying it on here because I am going to do that one way or another.

Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson in “Song Sung Blue.”

(Focus Features)

Villarreal: Do you like doing podcasts as a fellow podcast host?

Hudson: I like talking to people. I like connecting, so I’m always down for for this. [With] podcasts you get to have more time to really unpack.

Villarreal: Has it made you appreciate the art of the interview?

Hudson: I’ve learned a lot. I was so used to being on the other side, being the person that’s being asked all the questions and having to navigate the right way to answer something and not get yourself into trouble. So when it flipped and we [she co-hosts “Sibling Reverie” with her brother, actor Oliver Hudson] started to interview, when I would listen to our podcast, I’d cut everything out. I’d be like, “Jesus, shut up, Kate.” I’d cut out so much. I’ve also learned that sometimes, you gotta get to the point. You gotta keep everybody on track. Oliver, my brother, is a great podcast host. He’s so funny. I feel so lucky to have him to be my partner.

Villarreal: Well, we’re very glad to have you here to talk about “Song Sung Blue.” This is a film that’s about love of self, love of others, love of music and finding your way back to all that after tragedy. Tell me about why this was the right movie for you at this point in your life and career.

Hudson: It’s a great question. These things aren’t calculated. You have these opportunities, you read something, you hope you get to play the part because you believe in the story and you believe in the filmmaker and you believe in your co-star. And then you just hope that it comes together. And with this, the story was there. [Writer-director] Craig [Brewer] wrote a great script. For me, as an actor, it gave me all the colors, all of the things that I love and have been doing for so long [and allowed me] to be able to do in one movie. And the thing that was weighing on me was that if the love story doesn’t work, if we don’t believe these two people are madly in love with each other and needing each other — they’re quite codependent — the movie’s not going to work. It didn’t matter how great the script was. And I said [to co-star Hugh Jackman], “Look, how comfortable are you with getting to know me? Because I really feel like this movie’s not gonna work if we don’t work. And we kind of have to, like, be really intimate with each other and get to know each other really well … and let me know if I ever make you uncomfortable.” I’m incredibly tactile. He felt the same way. And that actually became the easiest part, was our connection and how much we trusted each other and how connected we felt. Something happened on the set. We kind of knew that it was a special, what was starting to unfold was something really special. Then you just cross your fingers and hope that the movie, that it became what we felt like we were making. I remember seeing the movie and just going, “Oh, my God, this movie makes me miss movies.” I just feel so happy and humbled to be a part of it because you never know.

Villarreal: Tell me more about building that foundation with Hugh, because the film is based on a true story of these two Milwaukeeans who fall in love, start this tribute band of Neil Diamond music. How did the bond with Hugh take form? Were you sharing playlists?

Hudson: We do share a love of of music. The first thing we did was record music. In the last two years, I’ve been very immersed in music and writing and just saying, “I have to make music” because if I don’t, I’m not fulfilling my creative output, input — all of it. I have to be making music. So I’ve been spending a lot of time in the recording studio. So I was very excited that that was where we were starting. Hugh has a different side of the story, which is it appears to him [that] it came much easier to me than it did to him. I disagree with that, but I’m sure that’s what he would say. But it was great because we got to sing together. When you can sing with someone and you sound good together and you start to connect through music, it’s a very different kind of language. And that was the beginning of us being like, “Oh, this is gonna feel really good.” Energetically, we’re both very spirited people and we had a blast in the studio. It was a great initial connection. But the movie itself is about people who love music, and who don’t necessarily get the opportunities to make that this huge success that maybe once when they were younger they dreamed of. One of the things I love about Craig and what he understands, and what I understand about music as someone who’s lived it my whole life, whether it be through partnership or myself, is that you along the way meet all these incredible, incredible musicians — way more talented than you are or I am — that don’t have the opportunities that maybe have been put in front of others or myself. And when you see that and you live it and you know it and you love it — I have a profound respect for that musician, the one that is the session player or the one that is the tip-drawer musician, the one who ends up being an interpreter because they didn’t make it as their own artist. And I think that’s what Claire and Mike Sardina really are in their hearts. They’re musicians. And Hugh has that in him. He loves being onstage. He loves performing. He loves giving his art out. And I think musicians, some musicians, love that. So we connected there and we connected to the characters very much so, with that essence of believing and loving something so much that you just have to do it, no matter what.

Villarreal: Do you remember the first song you guys did together in those recording sessions?

Hudson: I think it might have been “Forever in Blue Jeans” or maybe it was “Cherry Cherry.” We did so many songs, but I think it was one of those.

Villarreal: Are you ready to ask him to be on your next album?

Hudson: We’re already like, “We’re taking this on the road. We’re going to go sing all kinds of songs.” You don’t have to twist our arms to get in front of a mic and start singing. And a good music movie is really hard to do.

Villarreal: Why?

Hudson: You have to understand the language. Craig is, in his heart, a musician, even though he’s not a musician. He lives and breathes music. He’s a Memphis, Tenn., boy. Most of his world is around music. That’s how I fell in love and met Craig. I was young when I met him. We’ve been trying to work together for 20 years. I was married to Chris [Robinson, of the Black Crowes] at the time. We’re music people in our blood. Some people don’t have any real connection to music. Music isn’t something that they can relate to. But there’s two types of music lovers: There’s the fan, you feel music in your bones that you can’t explain and it moves you to places that you couldn’t live without it; then there’s people who have music in them and it has to come out of them. That is another language that you can’t explain to someone unless they were born with that or have that in them. Craig has it in him. And so it translates onto the screen. It’s like Cameron Crowe. It’s like PTA [Paul Thomas Anderson]. He has music in him. You can tell by the way he directs and his use of music. There’s certain directors that really understand musicality. Craig has that, so he was able to access that for this movie.

Villarreal: What was that like connecting on that front with Claire when you met with her? At what point in the process did that come?

Hudson: I really did not want to get too close with Claire because I don’t want things to feel like [I’m] mimicking. It’s not a Bruce Springsteen or Bob Dylan or that kind of biopic. And it was important to Craig too, to make Mike and Claire their own characters. I got to know her while we were shooting, and then she’d come to set, and I’ve got this footage of us sitting and laughing with each other. And it’s so funny because there’s an energy there where you’re like, “Oh, my God, I am playing her.” You can see it sitting in the director’s chairs. It was good to get her essence, but then to create another version of Claire, the movie version.

Villarreal: Did you ever get to sing with her?

Hudson: No. I had to miss the wrap party, which really was upsetting. And apparently there was a lot of karaoke singing at the wrap party. We’ll do a redo. But Claire’s had a really interesting life. Her life has been hard. Their life is and was hard. And they somehow found a way to believe in each other and have this beautiful love and life together. Claire, when she comes and she talks about Mike, he still really lives in her every day. It’s like he’s almost still here. It’s an amazing thing to see.

Villarreal: What was your relationship to Neil Diamond‘s music coming into this?

Hudson: Like most people that aren’t hardcore Neil Diamond fans, I obviously knew his biggest songs. When I read the script, I did like a big deep dive into [him] and I was like, “Whoa, what a catalog.” So many great songs and what a great songwriter. And when you hear some of — like the last song of the movie [“I’ve Been This Way Before”], I’d never heard that song before. Neil loves that we use that song because it’s very rare. People don’t usually talk about that song. And even “Forever in Blue Jeans,” I forgot about that song. I forgot about, “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon.” There’s so many songs.

Villarreal: I wanted to ask if “Soolaimon” is still playing in your head? Because it’s like an earworm for me now.

Hudson: Oh, my God. [Singing] Soooooo. Soolaimon. Oh, yeah. That song is fantastic. It’s such a great live song. And I didn’t know that song until we started the movie. Getting to know Neil’s catalog was really honestly an honor. And for him to give us the opportunity to sing all of it and to use it, so wonderful.

Villarreal: You also spent time with him … on your porch? His porch? I saw the Instagram post.

Hudson: I grew up in Colorado and he is my neighbor. But I’ve never met him. My whole life. And then I was talking with his son the other day who was at the premiere, and I was like, “It’s so weird we’ve never met.” He lives like 15 minutes from where I grew up. So we just sat on his porch and had lemonade, and we held hands and talked for hours.

Villarreal: What do you talk about with Neil Diamond?

Hudson: He was very open, and he’s in a place in his life where he did a lot of listening, and then he told me great stories about his childhood that I feel very honored that he shared with me, about where he grew up and how he grew up. And the one thing he did say, which I love — I asked him what his favorite song was to perform, then I asked if he missed performing. He said that he’s done so much and he feels good about what he’s done, but the song that he loves is “I Am … I Said.” He said that it’s like God wrote that song. It just came through him, and he was having a very hard time when he wrote that song and he was conflicted, he was having a hard time writing it, then all of a sudden it just poured through him. I loved the privilege of hearing that story from him. He said that his life has gifted him with these different eras where his music got new life. And he was just incredibly grateful to us, say[ing], like, “I know that this is gonna give my music another chapter.” Then Hugh went. I said to Hugh, “You have to go see Neil.” And so he went and flew to Colorado and sat with him. I feel so happy that he got to see the movie and he loves it and that we did good by him.

Villarreal: You asked him what his favorite song was to perform. What was yours? There’s the moment where Mike and Claire are playing alongside Eddie Vedder that really stands out in the film. And what do you feel when you perform?

Hudson: It’s been really great to exercise a new muscle, performing muscle. For the last two years, from the first time I had my first show to now, it feels very different. I get really excited. When something goes horribly wrong is actually kind of fun because that’s what live shows are, you get to not be perfect even though you’re striving for something great and to give something out that’s great. It’s not always going to be what you hope it’s going to be. Something’s gonna go wrong, it’s gonna sound weird, you’re not gonna hear this, the guitar’s not gonna [do that], and there’s something about that live experience when you’re performing that just feels so alive. One of the greatest feelings for me is when you see people singing your words back to you. I couldn’t believe the first time I saw people that I’d never seen know my music. I don’t care how many people that is. Even one person that you can see that actually is feeling something that you put out into the world is such a wonderful feeling. Performing is a blast. Singing with Hugh at Radio City, and you get to play all these cool venues and places that, as a music lover, you look around and what a bucket-list moment to sing in this historic venue. I’m so happy that I, like, had the courage to do it because I wouldn’t have had all of these experiences that I’ve had. I don’t think I would have been cast in this movie if I didn’t make music, if I didn’t go out on a limb and make an album.

Villarreal: We see in the film that, at the height of their stardom, Claire suffers a tragic accident and it upends their world. She’s in a state of depression and she’s being confronted with, “Who am I? And does this change everything about who I am because I’m not up there? And how do I get back there?” What was that like for you to delve into that headspace as a performer? For you, either as an actor or a singer, can you relate to that feeling of it being intrinsically a part of who you are and the fear of never doing it again?

Hudson: Like any role, there’s a lot of things that you can relate to or substitute. I sometimes substitute, you know, something that I can’t relate to with other things, as my own process. Meryl Streep always says you have to honor the character as much as you would honor your own life. That’s how you create a character. But then when you’re telling someone else’s life story, it’s almost like a double whammy because of the pressure that you’re sort of holding someone’s life. They’re giving you an opportunity to portray something that you don’t want to know let them down, especially with something as intimate and as vulnerable as what Claire went through.

I felt a responsibility to her struggles and how we looked at them — to have a family, to constantly be struggling to keep food on the table, to have the ups and downs of mental health. What I love about this movie is Craig doesn’t really hit you crazy over the head with Claire’s mental health struggles, but it is implied that she is up and down and is on medication and has been, and so when Claire’s up, she’s up; and when she falls it’s pretty dark. Everybody experiences trauma differently. Some people are better at pushing through or being optimistic in the face of tragedy. Claire is faced with that [idea that] nothing will ever be the same … Claire always said — we don’t say this in the movie — “Mike was a leg guy.” He would talk about them. And when that accident happened, she felt so unattractive to him. It’s like something was lost that she knew that he loved of her. Then it just hit everything from her inability to move, to be the partner she wanted to be for him, to the kids, to the drugs, to the the pain. It just was an awful spiral. I just wanted to do that as much justice [while] holding on to Claire’s inevitable optimism. She’s a very optimistic person.

Villarreal: Have you ever felt that fear of it being taken away from you? It’s one thing to decide to leave something that you love.

Hudson: I’m very stoic. I have a amazing family. I have a big support system and entered this industry knowing that if I don’t really love what I’m doing, if I’m not happy singing in that Thai restaurant, then this is not the right industry for me. If I’m not happy doing community theater or doing sketches with my friends at the local theater, I’m not in the right business. If you love it like that, then you are in the right business, because you know that it’s always gonna let you down. There’s the other side, the spiritual side, which is that I really live my life like we are all gonna die. It is inevitable. If there’s anything that’s inevitable, it is tragedy. We will meet it at some point, whether it be parents dying, whatever that is, we all will experience it at some point. So the harder thing is where the joy sits. How do we live now with joy and happiness and intention and positive intention? It’s something that I really live, authentically. So no, I don’t think about it because the reality is, if I did, then I’d be living in fear and anxiety and I choose to not do that.

Villarreal: Give me tips, Kate. I’m a worrywart.

Hudson: I worry about my kids. But life is too short. Time is so short. Lightning can strike twice. It’s the Claire line. You can’t live in that.

Villarreal: It really does feel like you are living in that sort of joy. Between this film, the album, you recently recorded a Christmas song, you’ve got the new season of “Running Point,” the podcast with your brother. I’m still waiting for “Something Blue” [the follow-up to “Something Borrowed.”]

Hudson: Oh, my God, me too. You know what? Ginny [Goodwin, her co-star in the film] and I — she was just on the podcast and we were talking about it and we were like, “We need Emily to write us in our 40s now.”

Villarreal: Who’s the villain? In “Something Borrowed.”

Hudson: Great question. Aren’t we all the hero and villain of our own story? Isn’t that how this works?

Villarreal: But you seem really happy.

Hudson: I am very happy. Age does that. You start to grow up and you realize you can go one of two ways: You can enjoy your life and your life experience. I’m on the back half — almost the back half. But you get to a certain point in your life where you have choices to make of either, you lean into enjoying everything, every blessing, or you’re miserable and you get more miserable. I want to enjoy my life and my kids. I love watching my kids grow up. And honestly, I love the decision that I made for me to make art differently than I was in my early 20s and 30s. Life presents itself the way it’s supposed to present itself. Opportunities as an actor come as they do. It’s a hard thing as an actor to wait for things to come to you because, as any actor knows, you’re at the mercy.

Villarreal: You could be waiting forever.

Hudson: Creatively, you have to, at some point, make the moves and take the risks to do things your way. Whether they’re liked or not liked, you have to do it. I think something happened in my 40s where I’m like, “I’m just gonna take the risks and make art and do things the way, tell stories the way, I’d like to do them.” And really enjoy what it is. It’s magic. Making movies is magic. And you can tell when people love doing them. You can tell when someone’s in it for something other than the art form of it. And sometimes we get them really right, sometimes we get them horribly wrong. But we gotta keep telling stories.

Change may be the only constant, but blazing infernos tearing through Pacific Palisades, Kaskade’s home for the last 15 years, was a new kind of change for him.

After 24 days of burning, his entire life looked different. Between tours, the famed DJ and dance music producer, born Ryan Raddon, spent the majority of his time at Palisades hot spots like the Village. Now he frequents Santa Monica and Brentwood by force. Of the 30 families in his church, only four of their houses remain standing, including his. Unfortunately, his brother’s house was lost to the fires.

“The community is destroyed. It doesn’t exist anymore. It’s hard not to be angry,” Raddon says, remarking that he’s been wondering if he should stay in the Palisades. His three daughters grew up there. Does he take away their childhood home?

When asked how this sudden and unprecedented shift affected the music he made for “undux,” his first album since 2015’s “Automatic,” Raddon takes several moments to collect his thoughts.

“I’ve done quite a bit of press for this record, and you’re the first person to bring that up,” he admits. He made two attempts to write a new album in the last three years, but he was already going through personal struggles before the fires. Divorcing his wife of nearly three decades and watching two of his daughters leave home led to melancholy songs that didn’t feel right to release. Eventually, he decided to finish the body of work, no matter what.

“I need to just make this, see what it is and get through it,” Raddon says. He was able to complete it with the help of songwriters he’s known for years, such as Cayson Renshaw, Finn Bjarnson and Nate Pyfer. “It is therapeutic to sit down and work with another songwriter. [Telling them] I have a lot going on I want to write about.”

The title of the album is “undux,” pronounced “undo,” because everything going on left him feeling undone. The result is a collection of tracks that skews deeper and less euphoric than previous Kaskade albums.

Raddon ventures away from his standard four-on-the-floor house music and into broken beats on “Started Over.” Warm orchestral strings and Renshaw’s ghostly vocals serve as vehicles for big emotional builds over the scattered drums, painting a sonic picture of how messy the heavy moments can feel.

“If Only” is a clean, guitar-driven indie dance tune that directly recounts Raddon’s experience in the aftermath of the blaze: “It’s all ashes / What the hell just happened? / Somehow I’m still standing / But I’m asking what for?”

The title of Raddon’s album is “undux,” pronounced “undo,” because everything going on left him feeling undone.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

There is still music on the album befitting of Raddon’s dozens of main-stage sets he plays every year. The lead single, “DNCR,” coasts on banging piano chords and an energetic kick. But he wrote the upbeat songs after working through the taxing emotions he brought into the process.

“Any time you’re being honest, and you’re going into the studio, you can’t avoid that stuff,” Raddon says. “This was a hard record for me to make.”

When Raddon’s manager heard “undux,” he was glad Raddon was feeling better, but he also delivered a stern warning: Only die-hards would appreciate the softer approach. Labels echoed this impression before the Vancouver-based electronic powerhouse, Monstercat, signed the album.

“When I sent the record out, people generally weren’t having it,” Raddon says. “Labels that I had worked with in the past, and some other people that are making noise in the space right now, said, ‘Call us back when you’re doing dance music.’”

“Undux” includes dance music. But it’s not all peak-time bangers like his biggest hits, such as “I Remember” and “Atmosphere.” In the years following “Automatic,” most of Raddon’s output was that kind of music. Streaming shifted listening habits away from long players and toward playlists and algorithms, both of which favor singles. Singles in the dance realm historically do the best numbers-wise when they’re primed for live.

Raddon’s most extensive releases in this period were his five “Redux” EPs. The Redux project channels his earliest years of DJing, when he was focused on keeping the dance floor moving. Kaskade releases get people moving, too, but songwriting defines that music. Using lyrics and melodies to tell the type of stories he needed to share after the fires.

“Making a single’s neat, but when you sit down in the studio, there’s so much pressure. I need to be able to play this at 2 a.m. in my set. That’s a weird box to work in,” Raddon shares. “When I’m making an album, there’s no thought of that. Let me just write and create.”

“The coolest thing for me is seeing dance music get a little bit of respect. [There’s been] so much success in bringing the music to a wider audience. It’s been a long road,” Raddon says.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

It makes sense that Raddon spent so many years producing for the live space. Right around the release of “Automatic,” he started a historic run on stage. In 2015, he brought the largest audience to an EDM act in the history of Coachella. In 2021, he was the first artist to play for a public audience at SoFi Stadium. In 2022, he broke the record for the biggest electronic music headlining concert in North America at the L.A. Coliseum with Kx5, his collaborative project with deadmau5.

Raddon has also been called upon to bring his art form to professional sports. In 2024, he became the first Super Bowl in-game DJ, and that May, he was the first-ever starting grid DJ at a Formula 1 race during Miami’s grand prix.

Despite so many individual wins, Raddon is most thrilled about the positive change this “decade of triumph” represents for the entire scene. He became one of the first figures of dance music legitimacy when he broke through with his 2004 hit “Steppin’ Out.” Now dance music has three Grammy categories.

“The coolest thing for me is seeing dance music get a little bit of respect. [There’s been] so much success in bringing the music to a wider audience. It’s been a long road,” Raddon says.

Raddon has been on top of the genre throughout that long road, making him one of dance music’s only consistent superstars.

Raddon especially emphasizes the ability to adapt. He started DJing when vinyl was the only option, and he recalls when certain DJs refused to play CDs when that technology developed. Now everyone uses digital files. The same principle applies to making music. He is rather calm in the wake of AI tools (though he admits he feels at ease about it because he’s already found established success with his music).

“This train is moving. You’re getting on, or you’re not. There’s no fighting it,” Raddon says.

The loss of his community in the Palisades and the shifts in his family life may be the most difficult changes he has ever faced. But he’s still on the train moving forward with the help of the music.

No one needs reminding that 2025 began in an L.A. aflame. Musicians didn’t escape the fires, especially in Altadena. Concerts were canceled but then became events of communal healing, a process that continues.

There were further troubling signs. Institutions continued to struggle to bring audiences back to pre-COVID numbers. Major orchestras and opera companies — San Francisco Symphony, Metropolitan Opera, New York Philharmonic, Baltimore Symphony, among them — feared fraught contract negotiations. Government funding for the arts dried up. Censorship, new to modern America, appeared a threat. And a military presence on downtown L.A. streets made trips to the Music Center and elsewhere in DTLA less inviting.

Our picks for this year’s best in arts and entertainment.

Still, classical music’s survival instincts proved reliable. New leaders of L.A.’s arts institutions are bringing vitality to the region, empowering musicians and giving fans hope and optimism. Here are my Los Angeles classical music highlights of 2025.

Coachella phenom of the year

It has been a year of transition for Gustavo Dudamel. The long “Gracias Gustavo” goodbye to the Los Angeles Philharmonic music and artistic director has begun. For its part, the New York Philharmonic, where Dudamel is headed next season, wonders how it can ever top the L.A. Phil visit to Coachella in April. Pop music crowds, 100,000 strong, shouted, “L.A. Phil! L.A. Phil!” and “Gustavo! Gustavo!” Big cheers rang as well at Walt Disney Concert Hall, the Hollywood Bowl and on an Asia tour, particularly for Dudamel’s increasingly rich Mahler performances. In late winter he led an impressive Mahler Grooves festival; the summer brought an exhilarating performance of Mahler’s First Symphony and the fall an extraordinary Second Symphony.

Gustavo Dudamel onstage April 12 at the 2025 Coachella festival in Indio, where he conducted the L.A. Phil.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Orchestral visionary of the year

In his own transitional year, Esa-Pekka Salonen finished an unhappy five-year tenure as music director of a San Francisco Symphony that foolishly failed to share his vision with a startlingly dramatic Mahler Second — known, tellingly, as “The Resurrection.” That was followed three months later by the L.A. Phil announcing it was all in with its transformative former music director and had created a new position of creative director in which he would rethink the role of the symphony orchestra in society. As a preview, Salonen had conducted a revelatory performance of Pierre Boulez’s “Rituel” in the spring, with the L.A. Phil musicians and L.A. Dance Project dancers spilling around the Disney Hall stage.

Dancers from L.A. Dance Project perform as Esa-Pekka Salonen conducts the L.A. Phil in Pierre Boulez’s “Rituel” on May 11 at Walt Disney Concert Hall.

(David Swanson / For The Times)

L.A. opera director of the year, although you’d never know it in L.A.

Peter Sellars was barely home in 2025, although that is certain to change with the return of Salonen. Among his newsworthy projects in New York, France and Italy, a busy Sellars collaborated with Salonen on an unflinching, intense and unforgettable staging of two end-of-life monologues: Schoenberg’s “Erwartung” and, with yet more Mahler, the end of “Das Lied von der Erde.” On opening night, it left a gala audience stunned.

Former L.A. opera director of the year, although you’d never know it in L.A.

L.A.’s next-generation opera revolutionary, Yuval Sharon, bid his own farewell to the city where he founded the experimental company the Industry, and where he became L.A. Phil’s first artist collaborator. He now serves as artistic director of Detroit Opera and has relocated to New York City as he prepares to mount Wagner’s “Tristan und Isolde” at the Metropolitan Opera in March. But Sharon carried L.A. with him in 2025 to the University of Chicago, where he delivered the annual Berlin Family Lectures, and in which he considered opera from an anarchistic point of view, inspired by John Cage. He also staged in Chicago Cage’s “Europera 5,” completing a project he had begun in L.A., where, in collaboration with the L.A. Phil,” he had mounted “Europeras 1 & 2” on a Sony Pictures sound stage.

Uncompromising opera administrator of the year

While serving as interim managing director of Long Beach Opera in 2025, board chair Marjorie Beale put her company on the line by boldly devoting the entire season to the open-ended, deep listening music of the late Pauline Oliveros. While Oliveros worked little in opera and never in a remotely traditional manner, Beale felt the spiritual operatic substance of Oliveros’ work was what the company needed and what the world needs. Inspired, unexpected productions by the company’s artistic director and chief creative officer, James Darrah, and conducted by music director Christopher Rountree were staged in operatic byways (parks and the Queen Mary) as ear-opening, mind expanding experiences. It was a sell-out sensation season that may not have paid the bills, requiring some cutting back for next season as the company catches its breath but Beale has shown what it means to stand for something and why Long Beach Opera matters.

Wilding Wild Up

Along with his Long Beach Opera gig, Rountree is founder and music director of Wild Up, the avant-garde chamber orchestra of virtuoso musicians, all of whom happen to be progressive composers as well. For 15 years, Wild Up has been a crucial component in the grander L.A. vision of orchestral, operatic and dance reinvention. This year it found infectious joy in the music of Julius Eastman; it significantly helped the Martha Graham Dance Company remain relevant, and it began new series at the Nimoy in Westwood and Sierra Madre Playhouse.

More Pauline

Claire Chase, who has been one of the most influential instigators of the Pauline Oliveros revival, was this year’s Ojai Festival energizer bunny. Her flutes — from piccolo to bass and all in between — and friends became magic makers in this numinous physical and musical landscape. Oliveros’ deep listening and that of other composers of her environmental ilk, particularly the atmospherically ethereal sound worlds of Annea Lockwood, were made for Ojai.

Mark Morris Dance Group performs the world premiere of “Moon” at the Kennedy Center Eisenhower Theater on April 4.

(ximena brunette / xmbphotography)

Saving the Kennedy Center (for a couple of days, anyway)

Choreographer Mark Morris staved off the federal government’s arts wrecking ball by salvaging his latest work, “Moon,” a commission for the Kennedy Center’s Earth to Space festival in April. The institution’s dance team hadn’t yet been fired. And Morris displayed, in this marvelous outer-space dance adventure, that wonder could exist in what had become the most unlikely of places.

Handel Heroine

French harpsichordist and conductor, Emmanuelle Haïm, the latest L.A. Phil artist collaborator, began a three-year Handel festival with a dazzlingly sung and played performance of the oratorio “Triumph of Time and Disillusion.” This study of extravagance and sanctity made Handel seem utterly relevant in his attempt to thwart early 18th century censorship and say something important.

Mehta and MTT

There are no words for what Zubin Mehta and Michael Tilson Thomas have meant for L.A. over the past three-quarters of a century. Native Angeleno and former music director of the San Francisco Symphony, MTT, who suffers from glioblastoma, retired from conducting with an 80th birthday celebration, hosted by the San Francisco Symphony, in a profoundly moving and musically fulfilling exhibition of valedictory resilience. Although Mehta, the L.A. Phil’s 89-year-old conductor emeritus, has canceled concerts that require travel, he took on Bruckner’s massive Eight Symphony with his old band. His movements are limited. He reportedly has difficulty with vision and hearing. Beyond all that, though, an orchestra that knows and loves him brought into existence, especially in the slow movement, an inner Mehta vista that felt like a world unto itself.

Dec. 9 (UPI) — KISS co-founder Gene Simmons and others testified for and against the proposed American Music Fairness Act during a Senate Judiciary subcommittee hearing Tuesday in Washington.

Simmons told the Senate Judiciary Intellectual Property Subcommittee that he supports the bill that would force AM/FM radio stations to pay royalties to the copyright holders of respective works played, according to Roll Call.

“It looks like a small issue [when] there are wars going on and everything,” Simmons said. “But our emissaries to the world are Elvis and Frank Sinatra.”

He said artists such as Elvis, Sinatra and Bing Crosby are treated “worse than slaves” by radio broadcasters.

“Slaves get food and water,” Simmons said. “Elvis and Bing Crosby and Sinatra got nothing for their performance.”

Also testifying in support of the proposed act was Michael Huppe, president and chief executive officer of SoundExchange, which helps music creators to collect royalties whenever their music is played internationally.

He said radio corporations made $250 billion in ad revenue over the past 16 years, while recording artists “were paid exactly zero.”

Broadcasters are using “other people’s property” to make money without paying them, and the United States is the only country that does not pay performers when they music is played on radio, Huppe said, adding that “even Russia and China pay.”

He said online streaming services pay recording artists, but not AM/FM stations.

Broadcasters once argued that radio promoted artists and new music, Huppe explained, but that no longer is the case.

He said most people now are exposed to new music online and via social platforms, such as TikTok and YouTube.

“The days of hearing a song on the radio and going out and buying a CD or an album at a store are long gone,” Huppe told the subcommittee.

Because the United States does not require royalty payments when songs are played on AM/FM radio, foreign governments do not pay royalties to U.S.-based artists.

Instead, he said nations like France collect royalties on U.S.-made music from French broadcasters and give them to French musical artists.

All other music delivery platforms pay artists, but AM/FM does not despite making nearly $14 billion in advertising last year from playing music, Huppe explained.

Broadcast radio stations pay DJs, talk show radio hosts and artists when the same programming is paid online, but not when they are played on analog broadcasts and AM/FM radio.

“No legitimate business or policy reason can justify that difference,” he said.

Opposing the proposed American Music Fairness Act, Henry Hinton, president of Inner Banks Media and longtime talk radio host in North Carolina, said the nation’s more than 5,100 free radio stations would suffer harm if it became law.

“I know firsthand the value and collaborative partnership of our stations and what we have with recording artists,” Hinton said, “but make no mistake: I also know firsthand that a new performance royalty imposed on local radio will create harm for stations, listeners and these very same artists.”

He called broadcast radio a “uniquely free service” that serves local communities “in a way that no other media can.”

Examples include hosting radiothons to raise money for local causes and providing “entertainment, inspiration and information,” including during emergencies and natural disasters.

Radio stations inform people of approaching danger and stay on the air, which at times is the only means of communication between emergency services personnel and the general public.

The Senate Judiciary subcommittee hearing lasted about 1.5 hours.

Grammy-nominated gospel singer Jubilant Sykes was stabbed to death in his Santa Monica home late Sunday, and his son was taken into custody at the scene, police said.

The 71-year-old, a prominent singer as well as an actor, was pronounced dead shortly after police arrived at the residence, according to Santa Monica Police Lt. Lewis Gilmore. There, they also discovered his son, 31-year-old Micah Sykes, still inside the Delaware Avenue home. He was booked on suspicion of homicide.

Over his career, Jubilant Sykes performed in venues around the world and across genres — opera, gospel, spirituals, show tunes, folk and pop — working with figures including Renée Fleming, Terence Blanchard, Carlos Santana, Julie Andrews and Brian Wilson. His resume included the Kennedy Center, Carnegie Hall, the Apollo Theater and the Metropolitan Opera. In 2010, he earned a Grammy nomination for his recording of Leonard Bernstein’s “Mass.”

On Sunday, Sykes’ wife, Cecelia, initially reported the incident as an assault. She told investigators her son had a history of mental illness, though detectives have not determined whether it played a role in the killing.

“The suspect was cooperative and taken into police custody without incident,” Gilmore said. “The entire tragedy took place within the confines of the family home.”

Police had not received any recent domestic calls involving the family prior to the incident, and the motive remains under investigation, police said.

“She wasn’t really aware of an altercation or an argument that led up to the stabbing,” Gilmore said, adding that Cecelia Sykes did not report feeling endangered during the incident. “I know the suspect had free access to the house. It is unclear if he was living there on a full-time or part-time basis, but it is the family home and he was allowed to be there.”

Police believe only the couple and their son were inside at the time.

Jubilant Sykes was born in Los Angeles in 1954, and his unique first name came courtesy of his mother.

“She named me that simply because she wanted me to be jubilant,” Sykes told The Times in 1996. “And when it comes to music, I am.”

He grew up in the city and sang soprano as a boy until his voice changed. Sykes later said he lost interest in music for a bit until a music teacher showed him how to use his new teen voice.

“I can’t remember ever not singing,” he told The Times in 1999, recalling music filling the house and piano lessons as a child.

After graduating from high school, Sykes majored in music at Cal State Fullerton.

“I just threw myself into it, totally clueless,” he said years later.

His shift toward classical singing was cemented after he won first place in the Metropolitan Opera’s Los Angeles regional auditions, leading to a debut at New York’s Metropolitan Opera in 1990.

He also appeared on film soundtracks and took occasional acting roles, including in the Cuba Gooding Jr. film “Freedom,” and in the musical “1776” at New York City Center. In Southern California, he performed on the opening-night bill for the Santa Monica College Performing Arts Center in 2008 and a 2006 performance with Carlos Santana at the Hollywood Bowl.

In addition to his wife and son, Jubilant Sykes is survived by two more sons.

An investigation of Sunday’s stabbing is underway, according to Gilmore.

Details on Micah Sykes’ bail and his first court appearance were not immediately available.