Emily, who plays Sarah Stratton, told the Radio Times: “I’m really proud of the Rivals gang because, throughout my life, I haven’t felt safe all the time, and we’re all so respectful of each other.
“We have to do a lot of sexual scenes and we’re very looked after — it’s a really positive thing.”
Emily, who is now engaged to materials scientist Dr Alistair Garner, launched her acting career 18 years ago with small parts in dramas including ITV’s Heartbeat.
Emily Atack says stripping for Rivals and playing naked tennis ‘was liberating’
She then made her breakthrough as Charlotte Hinchcliffe in The Inbetweeners, which ran from 2008 to 2010 on Channel 4 and is one of Britain’s best-loved comedies.
She also appeared in Only Fools And Horses prequel comedy Rock & Chips on BBC One in 2010, the 2013 gangster film Get Lucky and the 2016 movie remake of Dad’s Army.
The Martians: The True Story of an Alien Craze That Captured Turn-of-the-Century America
By David Baron Liverlight: 336 pages, $30 If you buy books linked on our site, The Times may earn a commission from Bookshop.org, whose fees support independent bookstores.
In the early 20th century it was widely thought that there was intelligent life on Mars, and that we actually knew something about the inhabitants. Fringe theorists and yellow journalists spread this view, but so did respected scientists and the New York Times. The U.S. and much of the rest of the world had Martians on the brain. The mania could be summed up by the philosophy of Fox Mulder, the paranormal investigator played by David Duchovny on “The X-Files”: “I want to believe.”
How this came to pass is the subject of “The Martians.” David Baron’s deeply researched and witty book explores what happened when “we, the people of Earth, fell hard for another planet and projected our fantasies, desires, and ambitions onto an alien world.” As Baron writes, “This romance blazed before it turned to embers, and it produced children, for we — the first humans who might actually sail to Mars — are its descendants.”
Well before there was Elon Musk, there was Percival Lowell. A disillusioned, admittedly misanthropic Boston Brahmin, Lowell came to see himself as a scientist with the soul of a poet, or a poet with scientific instincts. He was also filthy rich, and he poured much of his money into equipment and research that might help him prove there was life on Mars.
David Baron, a Colorado-based science writer, approaches his subject with clarity, style and narrative drive.
(Dana C. Meyer)
He was hardly alone. Other movers and shakers in the Martian movement included French astronomer and philosopher Camille Flammarion, who brought missionary zeal to the task of convincing the world of extraterrestrial life; and Giovanni Schiaparelli, the colorblind Italian astronomer who observed “an abundance of narrow streaks” on Mars “that appeared to connect the seas one to another.” He called these “canali,” which in Italian means “channels.” But in English the word was translated as “canals,” and it was quickly and widely assumed that these canals were strategically created by agriculturally-inclined Martians. Lowell, Flammarion and Schiaparelli collaborated and communicated with one another throughout their lives, in the interest of spreading the word of life on Mars.
Baron, a Colorado-based science writer, approaches his subject with clarity, style and narrative drive, focusing on the social currents and major figures of his story rather than scientific concepts that might go over the head of a lay reader (including this one). The Mars craze unfolded during a period defined by the theory of evolution, which expanded our conception of gradualism and inexorable progress, and tabloid journalism, which was quick to present enthusiastic postulation and speculation as fact, whether the subject was the Spanish-American War or life on other planets. Science fiction was also taking off, thanks largely to a prolific Englishman named H.G. Wells, whose widely serialized attack-of-the-Martians story “War of the Worlds” piqued the Western imagination. All of the above contributed to Mars fever.
One by one Baron introduces his protagonists, including Musk’s hero Nikola Tesla. An innovator in wireless communication and what would now be called remote control, Tesla won over the press and public with his enigmatic charm, which led his pronouncements to be taken seriously and literally by those who should have known better. “I have an instrument by which I can receive with precision any signal that might be made to this world from Mars,” he told a reporter. Tesla briefly had a powerful benefactor in Wall Street king J.P. Morgan, who funded Tesla’s wireless research before deciding the Mars obsession was a bit much and cutting him off.
Baron comes not to bury the Mars mania, but to examine the reasons why we choose to believe what we believe. Lowell, spurned in his romantic life and treated as a black sheep by his dynastic family, found in Mars a calling, a raison d’être. As Baron writes, “Mars gave his life purpose; it offered him the means to prove himself a success worthy of the Lowell pedigree.” The Mars believers were dreamers and misfits, all with something to prove (or, in the case of some publishers, papers to sell).
As Baron points out, the scientific method often fell by the wayside amid the hullabaloo. An acquaintance of Lowell’s bemoaned the habit Lowell had of “jumping at some general idea or theorem,” after which he “selects and bends facts to underprop that generalization.” Lowell himself once advised an assistant, “It is better never to admit that you have made a mistake.” Or later, as he sought photographic evidence of the Mars canals: “We must secure some canals to confound the skeptics” — which, today, carries eerie echoes of “Find me the votes.”
None of which should denigrate the dreams of space exploration. Nobody, after all, imagined we would actually walk on the moon. Carl Sagan, the great science popularizer and member of the Mariner 9 team that captured groundbreaking images of Mars in 1971, concluded that those canals were, as Baron puts it, “mere chimeras, an amalgam of misperceptions due to atmospheric distortion, the fallible human eye, and one man’s unconstrained imagination.” But that imagination, Sagan added, had value of its own: “Even if Lowell’s conclusions about Mars, including the existence of the fabled canals, turned out to be bankrupt, his depiction of the planet had at least this virtue: it aroused generations of eight-year-olds, myself among them, to consider the exploration of the planets as a real possibility, to wonder if we ourselves might go to Mars.”
L.A. Times contributor Vognar recently joined the staff of the Boston Globe.
British police have announced that the weekend performances by rap-punk duo Bob Vylan and the Irish-language band Kneecap at the Glastonbury Festival are subject to a criminal investigation after they led crowds in chants calling for “death” to the Israeli military and a “free Palestine”.
Police on Monday said the performances at the United Kingdom’s largest summer music festival “have been recorded as a public order incident”.
Rapper Bobby Vylan, who until the weekend was relatively unknown, led crowds in chants of “free, free Palestine” and “death, death” to the Israeli military.
The BBC said it regretted livestreaming the performance and it should have pulled it off the air.
British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and other UK politicians condemned the chants, saying there was no excuse for such “appalling hate speech”. Starmer added that the BBC must explain “how these scenes came to be broadcast”.
Ofcom, the broadcasting regulator, said it was “very concerned” about the BBC livestream and said the broadcaster “clearly has questions to answer”.
Meanwhile, the United States Department of State said it has revoked the visas for Bob Vylan to perform in the US after its “hateful tirade at Glastonbury”.
“Foreigners who glorify violence and hatred are not welcome visitors to our country,” US Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau said in a social media post.
Israel’s genocidal assault in Gaza has inflamed tensions around the world, triggering pro-Palestinian protests in many capitals and on college campuses. Israel and some of its supporters have described the protests as anti-Semitic while critics said Israel uses such descriptions to silence its opponents.
Glastonbury Festivalgoers watch as Kneecap performs in Pilton, Somerset, England [Jaimi Joy/Reuters]
While maintaining a crippling siege on the bombarded enclave, Israeli forces have killed at least 56,531 people and wounded 133,642, according to Gaza’s Ministry of Health.
Bob Vylan, known for mixing grime and punk rock, tackles a range of issues in its lyrics, including racism, homophobia and the class divide, and has previously voiced support for Palestinians.
Its lead vocalist, who goes by the stage name Bobby Vylan, appeared to refer to the weekend performance in a post on Instagram, writing: “I said what I said.”
“Teaching our children to speak up for the change they want and need is the only way that we make this world a better place,” he added.
The duo played Saturday afternoon right before Kneecap, whose set was not livestreamed by the BBC but still found a huge online audience via TikTok. It is another band that has drawn controversy previously over its strongly pro-Palestine stance.
Kneecap led a crowd of tens of thousands in chants of “Free Palestine” at the festival. It also aimed an expletive-laden chant at Starmer, who had said he didn’t think it was “appropriate” for Kneecap to play Glastonbury after one of its members was charged under the Terrorism Act.
Liam Og O hAnnaidh, who is also known as Liam O’Hanna and performs under the stage name Mo Chara, was charged with supporting a proscribed organisation for allegedly waving a Hezbollah flag at a concert in London last year.
Israel has faced sustained international opprobrium for the conduct of its war in Gaza. Weekly protests draw thousands of people around Europe and across the world in support of Palestinians.
Public pressure, in part, seemed to prompt the Israeli allies France, Canada and the UK to issue a sharply worded statement in May calling for Israel to stop its “egregious” military actions in Gaza and criticising Israel’s actions in the occupied West Bank.
Marlee Matlin has a word tattooed on each of her wrists. On the left is “perseverance,” on the right is “warrior.”
“After 37 years, I’m still hustling,” she says by way of explanation in “Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore.” Referring to the ink on her left wrist, she adds, “I look at this all the time. Every day.”
“Not Alone Anymore” is hardly the first celebrity documentary to salute its subject’s tenacity. But if the contours of this story are familiar — the rise, the fall, then the rise again of an Oscar winner — director Shoshannah Stern’s affectionate portrait is all the richer for the layers it reveals about both Matlin and the larger struggles of the Deaf community she embodies. The 59-year-old actor’s legacy may indeed be one of perseverance, but “Not Alone Anymore” touchingly details just how much more challenging her battles with addiction and sexual abuse have been than those of other famous people.
The film’s inventiveness starts with its opening frames, in which closed captioning describes the sounds that accompany the production companies’ logos: “[low humming],” “[dramatic, echoey flutters].” These descriptions occur throughout the documentary, as do subtitles for every talking head, including the Deaf participants. Obviously, these creative decisions allow Deaf and hard-of-hearing viewers to more easily experience “Not Alone Anymore.”
But it’s also a subtle acknowledgement of Matlin’s trailblazing work in the late 1980s, when she used her newfound fame to convince lawmakers to require televisions to include closed captioning — a groundbreaking development for a community who had been deprived of a fuller engagement with the media they were watching.
This wasn’t the only way in which Matlin has left her mark. In “Not Alone Anymore,” she breezily recounts how, at 19, she was plucked from relative obscurity to star in her first film, the 1986 adaptation of “Children of a Lesser God,” based on Mark Medoff’s acclaimed play, about a love affair between Sarah, a Deaf janitor, and James, a hearing teacher. Matlin won the Oscar, becoming the first Deaf actor to do so. (Nearly 40 years later, she remains the youngest lead actress recipient.) At the time, her victory was hailed not just as a coronation of a promising talent but also a triumph for the Deaf, who too often feel marginalized and underestimated. But, as the documentary reveals, real progress would prove trickier to achieve.
Matlin and Stern, who is also a Deaf actor, have been friends for decades, and their interviews are mostly conducted sitting together on a couch, the conversations exuding the cozy intimacy of old chums chatting. Making her directorial debut, Stern deftly draws out her subject. Audiences will learn about Matlin’s past history of drug abuse and her fraught romantic relationship with her “Lesser God” costar William Hurt, whom she has accused of sexual and physical abuse. (Hurt died in 2022.)
But “Not Alone Anymore” gently probes the unique difficulties Matlin’s deafness created as she navigated those traumas. When she went to rehab, the facility was ill-equipped to treat a Deaf patient. And during a poignant discussion about Matlin’s sexual abuse, she explains growing up with no understanding of the phrase “domestic violence.”
“Deaf people only have their eyes to rely on for information,” she tells Stern. It’s an illuminating illustration of the dangers of what the Deaf community refers to as language deprivation.
Despite her Oscar win, Matlin would repeatedly have to advocate for herself in an industry seemingly uninterested in Deaf characters. Stern uses 2021’s best-picture-winning “CODA,” which costarred Matlin, as a happy ending of sorts for her film, without denying the ongoing movement for greater Deaf visibility. But if “Not Alone Anymore” can sometimes lean too heavily on uplifting sentiment, Matlin’s story possesses a bittersweet aftertaste.
As evidenced by Matlin’s years of striking, engaging performances, she is a winning presence in the documentary — funny, charming and open — even while we sense the lingering wounds from a difficult upbringing exacerbated by sexual abuse she endured in childhood. Beyond being a spokesperson for the Deaf, Matlin has also emerged as a voice for survivors, even when the world wasn’t receptive to what she had to say. “Not Alone Anymore” notes, with pointed irony, that Matlin published her candid memoir “I’ll Scream Later” in 2009, years before #MeToo, so her accusations against Hurt didn’t carry the same weight in the media as the ones that would later stop powerful predators such as Harvey Weinstein.
It was hardly the first time Matlin waited for society to catch up with her. When she first arrived in Hollywood, she couldn’t have possibly imagined how much of a warrior spirit she would need. “Not Alone Anymore” honors a woman who learned how to fight.
‘Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore’
In English and American Sign Language, with subtitles
Not rated
Running time: 1 hour, 38 minutes
Playing: Opens Friday, at Landmark Nuart Theatre, Laemmle Noho 7
How much can you strip away from the war film and still have a war film?
That question invigorates “The Damned,” the new movie from Roberto Minervini, an Italian-born director who has spent the last 25 years living in America, our worrying cultural undercurrents seeping into his portraits of the marginalized and the discontent, usually documentaries.
“The Damned” represents his first foray into more traditional narrative storytelling, yet this existential drama bears all the hallmarks of his earlier work, less concerned with incident than conjuring a sense of place, time and, most important, a state of being. In his latest, Minervini brings viewers into the thick of the Civil War, only to find the same dazed souls and gnawing uncertainties that have always been his focus. It’s a war film with very little combat, but it’s about a war that still rages today.
Minervini’s naturalistic, observational style is on display from the film’s first scene, which lingers on a pack of wolves meticulously digging into an animal carcass. “The Damned” stays on the images just long enough for them to grow discomforting — when will Minervini cut away? — before introducing us to his anonymous protagonists, a collection of volunteer soldiers in the U.S. Army who have been sent out west in the winter of 1862.
The specifics of the mission are as mysterious as these men’s names as we watch them carry out the minutiae of military busywork. They set up tents. They play cards. They do target practice. Are they meant to represent the hungry wolves from the movie’s opening? Or are they the prey?
To call “The Damned” an antiwar film would be to assign an arbitrary value to what is really a series of offhand episodes consisting of only modest activity. In Minervini’s recent stellar nonfiction projects “The Other Side” and “What You Gonna Do When the World’s on Fire?,” the director collaborated with his subjects to create unvarnished glimpses of everyday lives, sometimes working from prearranged scenarios. Although Minervini is credited as “The Damned’s” screenwriter, his new film draws from a similarly close relationship with his cast, the actors drawing on aspects of their real lives to inform their roles, scenes developing from a loosely sketched-out plot.
In such an intimate, pensive atmosphere, characters emerge gradually out of the rugged landscape like windswept trees or weathered stones. The man identified in the end credits as the Sergeant (Tim Carlson, one of the subjects of Minervini’s 2013 documentary “Stop the Pounding Heart”) is ostensibly the leader, but as the untamed Montana wilderness goes from barren to snowy over an unspecified period of time, the more apparent it becomes that no commanding officer is necessary. The skeletal score by Carlos Alfonso Corral, who doubles as the film’s cinematographer, hints at an elemental menace just over the horizon. But real danger rarely occurs. Instead, these men are trapped in their own heads, their tender, confessional musings about God, war and manhood so rudimentary that they never aspire to the heights of folksy poetry. These soldiers are nothing special — as unimportant as their assignment.
Because Minervini avoids the tropes of the antiwar film — no big speeches, no ponderous metaphors — it’s almost a shock that he allows for one convention, an actual battle scene, which occurs about halfway through the 88-minute runtime. But even here, “The Damned” refuses to follow formula, resulting in an intentionally haphazard sequence as the soldiers are ambushed, the characters fleeing and shooting in every direction, the camera trailing behind them, desperate to keep them in frame. Whether it’s enemy forces or some random buffalo, the movie’s shallow depth of focus ensures that we only see our troops. Everything else resides in a permanently fuzzy, unsettled background, a constant middle distance that traps the characters in their spiritual purgatory.
There are limitations to Minervini’s spartan approach. Whereas his documentary films crackle thanks to his unpredictable interactions with his subjects, “The Damned” cannot help but feel slightly overdetermined, the outcomes predestined rather than organically unearthed. And yet, the concerns he brought to those earlier movies ripple here as well. “The Other Side,” his somber 2015 study of racist drug addicts and gun-toting militia members in rural Louisiana, remains the definitive warning of our modern MAGA age, while 2018’s “What You Gonna Do” prefigures the Black Lives Matter movement.
Now, for the first time, this prescient filmmaker visits America’s distant past, subtly pinpointing the economic inequalities, senseless brutality and thwarted masculinity that will bedevil the nation for the next 160 years. The Civil War is long over, but the country’s divisions remain, those core tensions naggingly unresolved.
Don’t think of “The Damned” as an antiwar film — consider it an origin story for Minervini’s perceptive, understated exploration of an America still in conflict.
Not rated
Running time: 1 hour, 29 minutes
Playing: Opens Friday, June 20 at Laemmle Royal, West Los Angeles
