podcast

OLIVIA Attwood and Pete Wicks both love Las Vegas with Olivia even saying she’d like to get married there.

The podcast co-hosts and Towie alumni have been making headlines following their steamy kiss in London just weeks after Olivia revealed her marriage had ended.

TV star Olivia, 34, separated from Bradley Dack in January and since then she and Pete have seen their friendship “blossom into an unexpected romance”, pals have said.

They spoke about weddings and their ideal nuptials on their podcast the Sunday Roast with Olivia saying she would have her “next wedding” in the US casino city.

“We’re going to talk about stag dos because I’ve been invited on a stag do today in Vegas,” Pete began, with Olivia chiming in to add, “That’s an elite destination for a stag or anything.”

They both agreed they loved Las Vegas and Olivia declared, “I think that probably my next wedding will be in Vegas.”

LIV-ID

ITV ‘furious’ as Olivia Attwood & ex Brad weren’t legally wed – despite TV show

I’M ATT-A HERE

Olivia Attwood jets off to film ITV show despite fakery row over ‘marriage’

But when Pete asked if he could come on the hen’s do for her next wedding, Olivia revealed she would not do another one and ended up crying at the one she had before marrying Bradley.

“This is like my hot take. So having been there, done that [I] got the T-shirt and the trauma, [and] I wouldn’t do a hen’s do again,” she said.

“I think they’re lame. Sorry, that’s really controversial… It was the only girls’ holiday that I’ve not really enjoyed.”

Olivia added: “I cried on the second day and there’s a lot of pressure and it feels that girls are difficult.”

While the pair continued to discuss weddings and their associated celebrations, they avoided talking about their public kiss.

The pair had previously insisted they were just friends but the snog proved they were a couple.

Last week a pal of Pete and Olivia confirmed: “They have been spending a lot of time together and an unexpected romance has blossomed from friendship.”

Olivia has also been in the news recently after it was revealed her wedding to Bradley was a sham.

The Love Island alum, 34, who has gone on to have major success by fronting several shows on ITV, documented her marriage to her now-ex Bradley in her show Olivia Marries Her Match.

In an episode that aired in August 2023, Olivia can be seen walking down the aisle to marry Bradley before the pair say their vows and tie the knot.

ITV bosses are now reportedly “stunned” to learn of the alleged sham marriage after we exclusively revealed her nuptials have been called into question.

Olivia and Bradley held their £200,000 ceremony for 80 guests at the five-star Bulgari hotel in London’s Knightsbridge in June 2023, two months before the episode aired.

She had even changed her name to Olivia Attwood-Dack, using that in her frequent appearances on ITV1’s Loose Women.

Yet the wedding has now been revealed to not be a legal marriage, as the union has not been logged with the General Register Office, the archive of all marriages and civil partnerships for England and Wales.

Olivia’s camp has claimed that the couple had planned to complete paperwork at a register office near their home in Cheshire six weeks after the wedding.

But they failed to ever sign anything as “Olivia uncovered a number of mistruths” and that her inability to trust Bradley “forced her hand in not being able to legally bind their union”.

The Grammy-winning composer behind the signature opening chant in the song “Circle of Life” for “The Lion King” movies is taking a comedian to court for allegedly damaging his reputation by misrepresenting the song’s meaning on a viral podcast episode.

In a federal lawsuit filed this month seeking millions in damages, Lebohang Morake, known as Lebo M, accused Zimbabwean comedian Learnmore Jonasi of intentionally botching the translation of the lyrics, central to both the Disney films and the musical theater adaptations.

“I’m getting sued for $27 million and to make matters worse, I got served the lawsuit while I was performing,” Jonasi said in a post on social media Tuesday. The post included a clip of the comedian performing at the Laugh Factory when a manila envelope is tossed onstage.

“Right now, I’m looking for a lawyer. … I can’t believe I’m getting sued for telling a joke. What kind of stupid world do we live in?” he added.

It all started when Jonasi’s appearance on the “One54” podcast went viral late last month. In the episode of “One54” cited in the lawsuit, one of the podcast’s Nigerian hosts, Akbar Gbajabiamila, prompts the comedian with “I heard you had a problem with the ‘Lion King,’ why?” He then breaks into song, trying his hand at the chant and butchering the delivery.

“That’s not how you sing it, don’t mess up our language like that,” Jonasi says, before singing the correct lyrics in Zulu. When the hosts ask what it means, he says it translates to: “Look, there’s a lion. Oh, my God.”

The hosts erupt with laughter, saying that they’d always thought the chant was something more “beautiful and majestic.”

Jonasi often uses the same “Lion King” bit in his stand-up routines. He translates the song’s lyrics from Zulu and Xhosa, two of South Africa’s 12 national languages, and offers a broader critique on the film.

In Season 19 of “America’s Got Talent,” the comedian won over audiences by joking about how American movies about Africa often confuse Africans, asking, “Why do the lions have American accents?”

The civil lawsuit accuses Jonasi of intentionally mocking “the chant’s cultural significance with exaggerated imitations,” according to the complaint.

Disney’s official translation of the opening phrase “Nants’ingonyama bagithi Baba” is “All hail the king, we all bow in the presence of the king.”

“Hay! baba, sizongqoba,” the chant continues. It translates to “Through you we will emerge victoriously,” according to Lebo M.

Lebo M’s lawyers acknowledged in the complaint that “ingonyama” can literally translate to “lion,” but said it’s used in the song as a “royal metaphor” that invokes kingship, and that Jonasi intentionally misrepresented “an African vocal proclamation grounded in South African tradition.”

Jonasi “received a standing ovation” for a similar joke he made about the song during a March 12 stand-up performance in Los Angeles, according to the lawsuit. Such viral statements, it says, are interfering with Lebo M’s business relationships with Disney and his income from royalties, causing more than $20 million in actual damages. The lawsuit also seeks $7 million in punitive damages.

The complaint also argues that Jonasi presented his translation “as authoritative fact, not comedy,” so it shouldn’t get the 1st Amendment protections afforded to parody and satire.

Jonasi and reps for Lebo M didn’t respond to emails seeking comment, but the two have been busy on social media, making alternating statements and sub-posting each other for weeks.

Earlier this month, Jonasi revealed that he’d been receiving threats on social media for offending his fellow Africans. “It was never my intention to disrespect anybody,” he said in the video posted to Instagram. “When I went on that podcast, my intention was actually to talk about African identity. … I’d like to apologize to anybody that I hurt. But my comedy was a way to crack open a window for a conversation.”

“I had no idea the chant from ‘The Lion King’ was a royal welcoming song … I speak a little bit of Zulu, so I directly translated the words, and I even spoke to some of my South African friends, and most of them don’t even know what it means. And the rest of the world thought it was actually gibberish.”

A few days later, Lebo M posted his own Instagram video, saying he had attempted to speak with Jonasi privately, but claimed the comedian had disrespected him. “You are riding a huge wave of going viral on negativity,” he said in the video.

“I would like to encourage you to please slow down. You have a long way to go. I wish you success, but you cannot disrespect other people’s cultures that gave you the first opportunity to start with and claim it’s comedy. … You continue making a mockery of my work … the likes and the viral things won’t be there when it’s just you.”

After exchanging a few more public statements via Instagram, Jonasi was served with court papers.

He shared the news online and announced he’s selling merchandise and launching a GoFundMe to raise money for his defense. The shirts and hoodies for sale feature two different designs — one reads “Look it’s a lion,” and the other “Look it’s a lawsuit, Oh, my God.” As of Friday afternoon, Jonasi’s GoFundMe raised more than $17,000.

The tense situation seemed to be cooling on Friday morning, when Lebo M posted a lengthy statement to Instagram signaling a shift from an impending courtroom showdown to what his team is calling a “white flag moment.”

According to the post, Lebo M’s team has contacted Jonasi to “explore the possibility of a structured settlement.”

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Everyone’s getting into podcasts — even demons.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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