The spectacular one-handed catch looked like the kind of play that could only be made with sudden adjustment. A reaction with no thought or practice required.
But that’s not how it went down for Rams star receiver Puka Nacua.
“Just trusting the technique is something that actually me and Matthew talked about in the week before in a rep during practice,” Nacua said. “The angle departure that we were looking at.
“It’s crazy how some of those things come to life on Sundays.”
Stafford and Nacua were the NFL’s top connection this season.
Stafford, a favorite to win his first NFL most valuable player award, passed for a league-leading 4,707 yards and 46 touchdowns.
Nacua is among the candidates for offensive player of the year.
The third-year pro caught a league-best 129 passes, 10 for touchdowns. Nacua amassed 1,718 yards receiving, second to only Seattle’s Jaxon Smith-Njigba, who had 1,793 yards.
Nacua is expected to continue his outstanding play Saturday when the Rams play the Carolina Panthers in an NFC wild-card game at Bank of America Stadium in Charlotte, N.C.
Star receiver Davante Adams, the NFL leader with 14 touchdown catches, is scheduled to return, but it will be no surprise if Stafford continues to rely on Nacua, who was voted to the Pro Bowl for the second time.
Nacua became the first Rams receiver to lead the league in catches since Cooper Kupp achieved the feat in 2021, when he claimed the so-called triple crown of receiving by finishing first in receptions, yards receiving and touchdown catches. Kupp was the NFL offensive player of the year.
Nacua said one of his goals this season was to improve “catching the ball more consistently.”
He had already made great strides in that regard.
Rams wide receiver Puka Nacua hauls in a one-handed touchdown pass during a win over the Arizona Cardinals on Sunday.
(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)
As a rookie in 2023, Nacua caught 105 passes on 160 targets but had a league-worst 13 drops, according to Profootballreference.com.
Last season, he caught 79 passes on 106 targets, with one drop. This season he was targeted 166 times and dropped four passes.
“I really do feel confident that I can catch any ball that comes my way,” he said.
“He’s always had great natural hands, but sometimes these guys that have those great hands, you can almost start to get up field before you end up looking the ball all the way in,” McVay said. “I think he’s been really consistent and that’s not exclusive to when the ball’s in his hands.”
Nacua started the season with a 10-catch, 130-yard performance in a season-opening victory over the Houston Texans. It was the first of six games he eclipsed 100 yards receiving.
Three came in December, after he caught six passes for 72 yards in a 31-28 loss to the Panthers on Nov. 30.
The next week, Nacua caught seven passes for 167 yards and two touchdowns against the Cardinals. He caught nine passes for 181 yards against the Detroit Lions, and 12 passes for 225 yards and two touchdowns against the Seattle Seahawks.
“He brings a ton of energy to our team,” Stafford said during the run. “He plays the game the way we all want to with passion, energy and toughness.”
Saturday’s matchup will be Nacua’s fourth playoff game. He has 20 receptions for 322 yards and a touchdown in the postseason.
Adams’ return from a hamstring injury could open more windows for Nacua.
“It’ll be fun to continue to run the routes that I get to run, but then also I know that the defense is going to shift another way feeling the threat and the presence of Davante Adams,” Nacua said. “The threat that he provides in our offense and understanding that Matthew can look one way and always throw the ball the other way, that’s the threat every time.”
Etc.
Offensive lineman Kevin Dotson (ankle), who sat out the last two games, will remain out for Saturday’s game against the Panthers, McVay said. Receiver Jordan Whittington (knee) also is out, and tight end Terrance Ferguson (hamstring) and defensive back Josh Wallace (ankle) are questionable. … The Rams announced their end–of-year team awards. Stafford was MVP, Ferguson was top rookie, linebacker Nate Landman won sportsmanship, ethics and commitment to teammates, and offensive lineman Alaric Jackson won inspiration, sportsmanship, and courage.
A year ago, we were all glued to our phones, namely the Watch Duty app, as we watched fires rip through beloved neighborhoods and landscapes. We braced ourselves for the death toll, the number of homes lost and what was harmed in our beloved mountains.
The Eaton and Palisades fires were the beginning of a crushing year for L.A.
I don’t believe in closure or want to push the idea of resilience, concepts too often forced in these kind of post-disaster narratives. But I do believe in pausing to discern what we have learned over the past year.
I recently spoke with trail crew volunteers, including two who lost their houses in the fires, to get their takes.
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They each shared what’s helped them move through this past year, including what we can learn from the regrowth and recovery of our local forests. I left these conversations feeling inspired by both the natural and human spirit. I hope you will be too.
Lesson 1: Humans are adaptable like the trees and plants
After the devastating 2018 Woolsey fire, which burned much of the Santa Monica Mountains, photographer Jane Simpson made regular pilgrimages to Malibu Creek State Park to document the renewal process. She saw the hillsides start to green, and lupine and other flowers (and mustard) start to bloom.
It helped give her a baseline for what to expect when she started returning to the mountains scorched by the Palisades fire.
Simpson is a member of the Sierra Club Angeles Chapter’s Santa Monica Mountains Task Force trail crew, known often by their nickname, the Trailies.
In November, Simpson worked alongside other Trailies on the Bienveneda and Leacock trails in Topanga State Park. The area was badly burned, but still Simpson noticed green sprouts peeking out of the ashy soil and from the branches of trees that the average passerby might assume were dead.
“I just want to think that the trees, the flowers, the [landscape] are not just responding blindly and dumbly — we know they’ve learned to adapt, and humans are learning to adapt as well,” said Simpson, who joined the Trailies in 2017.
Simpson has been forced to adapt. Her home in the Palisades Highlands was among thousands that burned in the Palisades fire, and she alongside her neighbors are grappling with whether to rebuild. Simpson grew up in Mandeville Canyon, and as a kid, she’d head out the door with a sack lunch and friends for a day of unsupervised adventures. It’s hard to imagine not living there.
Trail crew worker Jane Simpson observes a Humboldt’s lily in Santa Ynez Canyon last summer.
(Gaby Valensi)
Before the fire, Simpson could walk out her front door and quickly take one of about five nearby trailheads. She and a neighbor would often “just head out the door and go anywhere,” she said, like the many times they headed along Palisades Drive to Temescal Ridge Trail to Radio Peak, a local name for Temescal Peak.
Those trips helped them learn the local plants and how they changed with the seasons, like how the ceanothus would blossom with blue blooms in early spring. And in Santa Ynez Canyon, Simpson loved spotting the Humboldt’s lilies, knowing the perennials would come back every year.
Even after the devastation of the Palisades fire, she’s seen those lilies return to the same spot they’ve always been.
“A fire-scarred landscape may look dead, but spotting a familiar flower is like seeing old friends,” she said. “It’s reassurance — that some kind of normal is possible. Of course, when it is your own property, there is no normal there, but there is reassurance that for the earth, the wildlife, plants, things will go on, even if I don’t return.”
Lesson 2: We have our own ecological role to play
Trailie crew member Ron Dean is drawn to trail work for creativity. Every 10 minutes, there’s seemingly a new problem the trail crew faces, like, “Where should we put the trail? Should we put the rocks over here? Does this need a drain? How can we move this thing out of the way? It’s wonderful,” he said.
When I asked Dean, who joined the crew 12 years ago, to describe his relationship with the Santa Monica Mountains, he was quick to answer.
“When I’m out in the mountains, I feel like I’m hanging out with my best friend,” Dean said.
A Trailies volunteer works on the Leacock Trail in 2019.
(Jane Simpson)
Dean moved from Wisconsin to L.A. in 1970 for a job and stayed for the climate and landscape. Every Sunday for the past several years, Dean and his son Josh would hike in the Santa Monica Mountains, leaving Dean’s home in the Palisades and often hitting a loop trail to Goat Peak, also referred to by some locals as High Point. After the hike, they’d have brunch and watch football.
That home, which was built in 1951, burned in the Palisades fire. Similar to how he approaches trail work, Dean is looking at how to create a better home for today’s climate, adding solar panels, backup batteries, water recycling and a heat pump system.
Dean is comfortable tackling problems that seemingly have no end. He’s known among his fellow Trailies as the “mustard man” because whenever he sees invasive black mustard — the yellow flowers that cover L.A.’s hillsides in the spring before drying into quick-burning brown twigs — he yanks it out. “Will I win? Of course not,” Dean said.
A member of the Trailies works on Leacock Trail in 2019.
(Jane Simpson)
This is the kind of acceptance Dean has learned from our local mountains — that we can all do our part for as long as we’re here.
Lesson 3: Restoration is a form of reciprocity
In 2012, Rubio Canyon Trail Crew member Sean Green made it his personal mission to restore the Lone Tree Trail in Rubio Canyon. The path, built more than 100 years ago, was constructed so that workers from a municipal water company could reach the utility’s water intakes far into the canyon, Green said.
The trail had been abandoned for decades, but was rediscovered after the 1993 Kinneloa fire ripped through the area. “I decided I loved that trail and I restored it,” Green said.
The Rubio Canyon Trail Crew removes a landslide from the Gooseberry Motorway in 1997.
(Sean Green)
The trail crew’s work is part of a long history of give and take between humans and the canyon.
The lush landscape of chaparral, coast sage scrubs and creek beds was once a stop on the Mount Lowe Railway. The “railway climbed the steep Lake Avenue and crossed the poppy fields into the Rubio Canyon,” according to a local history website. “This part of the trip was called the Mountain Division. At this juncture stood the Rubio Pavilion, a small 12-room hotel. From there the passengers transferred to a cable car funicular which climbed the Great Incline to the top of the Echo Mountain promontory.”
The Rubio Cañon Land and Water Assn. has pulled water from the canyon since the 1880s, delivering it to nearby residents in Altadena. But in the late ’90s, in a still-debated controversy, the water company completed a construction project that sent thousands of yards of debris into the canyon, burying at least three waterfalls.
“Whether by nature’s hand or man’s, with time or with money, Rubio Canyon’s waterfalls will return,” Pasadena Star-News journalist Becky Oskin wrote at the time.
It appears that time has finally come.
Green said heavy rains pushed debris away from the once-covered Maidenhair Falls, a 30-foot cascade named after the Maidenhair ferns that once surrounded it.
The Rubio Canyon Trail Crew, which has worked in the area for more than 25 years, is busy bringing the rest of the canyon’s trails back too.
Claus Boettger, Phil Fujii and Jason Trevor backfill a new retaining wall along the Gooseberry Motorway in 2005. The original road was built in 1923 by Southern California Edison to install electric towers along the foothill ridges. It is now a single-track trail.
(Sean Green)
The Eaton fire ripped through the Rubio Canyon Preserve, seriously damaging the canyon’s chaparral, coast sage scrub and riparian habitats.
Green said his crew has almost finished restoring the Loma Alta Trail and has put in several hours on the Gooseberry Motorway, which takes hikers up and over a ridgeline, eventually into Angeles National Forest. The motorway was originally built by Southern California Edison to install electrical towers, Green said.
The crew has started seeing wildflowers, trees and wildlife all return to the canyon.
“The land is recovering,” Green said. “The Eaton fire caused a lot of damage, burning many houses down and burning the vegetation, but nature is very resilient and it will come back. … The canyon itself is going to take awhile to look like a vegetated canyon bottom because of all the debris that came down, but the rest of Rubio Canyon is going to regrow. It’s going to look pretty, and we’re going to get the trails in shape.”
Lesson 4: Hard work pays off
Lowelifes founder Rob Pettersen repairs a trail in Angeles National Forest.
(Erik Hillard, Lowelifes RCC)
The hiking trails of Angeles National Forest, as a whole, are in far better shape than they were 10 years ago. In spite of repeated wildfires — the Bobcat fire in 2020, the Bridge fire in 2024, the Eaton fire last year — and heavy rains, the trails remain.
I was so focused on the damage of the past year from the Eaton fire and heavy rainfall, I hadn’t zoomed out to consider the bigger picture until I spoke to Rob Pettersen, a founding board member of the Lowelifes Respectable Citizens’ Club.
The Lowelifes are among a dedicated coalition of trail crews that dedicate hundreds of hours every year to reestablishing damaged trails by lugging out fallen and dead trees, moving soil and rock, and more.
“We are moving forward, but Mother Nature has other ideas sometimes,” Pettersen said. “There’s no silver bullet for fixing these trails. They just need constant attention. It’s just the nature of our geology.”
Pettersen has volunteered on trail work crews off and on for the past 20 years, most consistently after Lowelifes was founded in 2019. Pettersen enjoys living in Los Feliz, but like most of us, is drawn to the solace and peace that the mountains provide.
After the 2020 Bobcat fire, which burned through Big Santa Anita Canyon and several other beloved places, the Lowelifes focused several months on restoring the Idlehour Trail, a six-mile jaunt through lush woodland.
“This time last year, Idlehour was in some of the best shape it’s ever been — and then it got melted” in the Eaton fire, Pettersen said. “It’s a very popular [and] special place for Lowelifes folks individually, and the fact we had just completed a lot of work there is kind of brutal.”
This ebb and flow of fire and flood, exacerbated by human-caused climate change, he said, is why the Lowelifes focus on restoring trails to a quality that can withstand harsh conditions.
“Even though we’ve had multiple years now where we’ve done a bunch of trail restoration work and then got hit by several inches of rain in 12 hours,” Pettersen said, “the vast majority of the trail mileage holds up because we do good work so the trail isn’t gone. But the trouble spots — the heavy drainages, the cliffy areas — those are always impacted by debris flow. So it’s a bummer, but it also feels good to be making a difference and doing good work for the community.”
Rob Pettersen cuts through a downed log during a Lowelifes work day on trails in Angeles National Forest.
(Matt Baffert, Lowelifes RCC)
Several Lowelife crew members lost their homes or livelihood in the Eaton fire, including Lowelifes president Matt Baffert. Additionally, the fire also burned up the crew’s tools, which were stored at Baffert’s home.
A year later, though, Baffert and others are rebuilding and moving back, Pettersen said.
That’s in large part because the community rallied behind the Lowelifes. The group received several grants and donations, and the Lowelifes as a nonprofit came out of the fire more financially secure than before. Pettersen said so many volunteers showed up to help that the Lowelifes had to turn people away because they couldn’t safely fit everyone who showed up on the trails to work.
“It’s amazing seeing how many people care about our Lowelifes individually and about our trails and our Angeles National Forest,” Pettersen said. “People care about trails, people care about public lands; that’s been positive and we want to keep building on that.”
This month, the Lowelifes plan — rain and snow permitting — to head back to the Idlehour trail.
The work continues.
3 things to do
Hikers with Hearts for Sight and the Sierra Club Angeles Chapter trek along a path together.
(Joan Schipper, Hearts For Sight)
1. Volunteer as a hiker guide in L.A. Hearts For Sight and the Sierra Club Angeles Chapter will host their monthly White Cane Hike at 8:30 a.m. Jan. 18 in Griffith Park. Volunteers are needed to guide blind and visually-impaired hikers on a gentle hike from Franklin’s Cafe & Market to a heliport in the park. The hike is free, and lunch is provided. To register, call Hearts for Sight at (818) 457-1482.
2. Make new friends hiking in Elysian Park LA for the Culture Hiking Club will host a beginner-friendly, free community hike at noon Saturday in Elysian Park. The group will meet at the Grace E. Simons Lodge parking lot before heading onto the Elysian Park West Loop, which offers stunning views of the city. Register at eventbrite.com.
3. Commune with nature and a notebook near Calabasas California State Parks and Santa Monica Mountains Nature Journal Club will host a nature journaling meetup from 10 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Sunday at Malibu Creek State Park. Participants who are new to nature journaling are invited to take a free introductory course while experienced nature journalers can head into the park. The group will reconvene at noon to share their experiences. Guests are invited to bring a potluck dish to share. Register at eventbrite.com.
The must-read
(Mary Forgione / Los Angeles Times)
One of the first places I go to research a trail is The Times archives because we’ve been writing about the trails and campgrounds of Angeles National Forest for more than 100 years. In all that time, we haven’t slowed down enough to write a comprehensive guide of the forest — until now. I spent the past few months researching and writing what is a part love letter/part guide to help you explore every corner of the 700,000-acre national forest playground that sits right in our backyard. I hope you save this guide and use it for many of your future adventures! I know I will.
Happy adventuring,
P.S.
After the recent rain and snowfall, there are new and serious hazards on our local trails that you must consider before heading out. We have already lost at least three hikers locally this winter. As I’ve written previously, you often need crampons and an ice axe, equipment you need to be experienced using, before heading into a snow hike with elevation gain. I have seen several images on social media of hikers celebrating at the snow-covered Mt. Baldy summit, the highest point in the San Gabriel Mountains, but anyone headed up Baldy needs to understand how dangerous the hike is in winter conditions. As Kyle Fordham, a 36-year-old experienced hiker, told my colleagues, the Devil’s Backbone trail is typically considered the easier option, but it becomes “a death slide” in the winter. “It basically becomes a giant ice cliff,” Fordham said. “If you don’t know what you’re doing, you can very easily die on it.” If you do run into a fellow hiker in need, please help however you can. It can sometimes be the kindness of a stranger that saves a life. Stay safe out there, friends!
For more insider tips on Southern California’s beaches, trails and parks, check out past editions of The Wild. And to view this newsletter in your browser, click here.
In the last episode of The Envelope video podcastbefore the 2026 Oscar nominations, Joel Edgerton describes the transformative experience of making “Train Dreams.” Plus, our hosts share the names they’d like to hear called on nominations morning.
Kelvin Washington: Hello and welcome to another episode of The Envelope. Kelvin Washington, Yvonne Villarreal, Mark Olsen, and it’s great to have you both here as usual and especially when this is our last episode before Oscar nominations. So I’ll start with you, Yvonne. It could be a movie, a director, or some rising star or just anything that you hope once they read those nominations that morning, you’re gonna hear.
Yvonne Villarreal: I’m not going to say the usual suspects because that’s covered. I really want to see Chase Infiniti get nominated for her role in “One Battle After Another.” I just think she’s been such a revelation for me as somebody who watched “Presumed Innocent.” Seeing her in this role — and I don’t want to spoil anything, but she really finds herself in a hairy situation in this film and the way she sort of rises to the occasion and really has a moment of triumph for herself, I think it was just striking to watch. And she’ll be in “The Handmaid’s Tale” spin-off “The Testaments.” I’m really looking forward to see what she does there. But also I’ll say, as somebody who got thrown into the bandwagon of “KPop Demon Hunters” because of my 6-year-old niece, I wanna see that get some love in the animated category.
Mark Olsen: And in the music categories. Best song.
Washington: It better! Do you know how much I have to hear that song in my house with three daughters, 9, 7 and 4 [years old]? Like, I’m going to be “Golden.”
Villarreal: Are they memorized?
Washington: That’s an understatement. It’s to the point I got concerned. Is it like some robotic AI that’s taking over my daughter’s brain? Instantly. That and 6-7. I have to deal with that every day.
All right. Mark, swing it to you. What do you have?
Olsen: Well, you know, the actress Rose Byrne for the movie “If I Had Legs I’d Kick You.” She won a lot of critics’ prizes leading up to the nominations. And I think it’d be so exciting if the filmmaker on that, Mary Bronstein, also got recognized either for the screenplay or as director. You know, Mary’s someone that she made her first film, “Yeast,” more than 15 years ago and had not gotten a second project going and had sort of been living a life and doing other things. And to see her sort of reemerge with this project in particular, which is so powerful and so specific, it would be really exciting — as great as it is to see Rose being rightfully recognized — to see Mary get some attention as well.
Washington: So I’m gonna jump in with a couple. One, because she’s been on the radar for years as just a multitude of things, she’s multifaceted: Teyana Taylor can dance, she can sing, she’s just all of that and now acting alongside Leonardo DiCaprio. Very impressive for her. And not a debut, but maybe for those who aren’t familiar. So I’d be interested to see, I have a feeling we’re gonna hear her name. And then I’m going super popcorn, Raisinets, Junior Mints, going to the theater. “F1,” for me, I know it was kind of —
Villarreal: Whoa, that’s a throwback.
Washington: I know, but hear me out. It was fun. It was just fun. And it’s kind of one of those movies like, you know, you forget that you go to the movies, it’s gonna be a little fun, maybe a little cheesy, but dang it, I’m here. I’ve got my popcorn. All of that. That for me was another one that was like, “Oh man, that’s kind of the moviegoing experience sometimes we’ve forgotten.”
Olsen: And it’s always good to see the Oscars recognize a film like that as well. I mean, it helps just for attracting audience to the telecast. But I think it is important that the Oscars recognize a breadth of filmmaking styles and one of the things that’s so exciting about the movies is that it can be so many different things, from like a really small personal story to some big high-tech film like “F1: The Movie.” And so I think, yeah, to see that recognized in some of the major categories would be really exciting.
Washington: You know why I like Mark? Because he tried to legitimize my choice. And I’m OK with that.
Olsen: There’s no try. You don’t need the help.
Washington: Look at how I look in the camera. You know, why? Because I know someone’s going to be highbrowin’ me right now. And I get it. And I am with you. However, as we know, we can get all the types of mergers and some things will happen. Are people going to be going into movies anymore? And I was sitting in it going, “Oh, yeah, this is kind of what that feels like.” So ha! Take that.
Villarreal: My reaction was more, it had been a while since I heard the title.
Washington: It felt the same.
Villarreal: Sorry!
Washington: I like what I like, OK? I enjoyed it. That’s all I have to say about that.
All right, Mark, coming to you now. We’re talking about Oscar buzz, and just buzz and a lot of traction that someone can get from a role. Talk about Joel Edgerton playing a logger in Netflix’s “Train Dreams.” What was that conversation like?
Olsen: It was a really terrific conversation. This is a movie that premiered at Sundance last year and was picked up by Netflix there. And even though it has that machinery behind it, there is still something that feels very organic about the success of this movie. It genuinely feels like it’s word of mouth that people have been discovering the film. And it has just a really quiet power too. And a lot of that comes from Joel’s performance. You know, he originally pursued the rights to this book himself and wasn’t able to get it, the rights were already taken. And so he sort of like thought, “Oh, well, that’s that.” And then years go by and the project comes back around and he’s offered this role that he’d been so interested in playing. And he feels like it’s hit him at a very specific time in his life.
The [story] is set in the early part of the 20th century. He plays a logger in the Pacific Northwest. And it really is just a portrait of a life. And the story deals with grief and family, and Joel, in the subsequent years, has become a father himself. And he said how, if he’d have played this a few years ago, he thinks it’d be totally different than the way that [he’s] playing it now. Also he is a guy who’s been in the business for a few years now. He has, I think, some really sharp opinions, views on like what this business is, what the industry is like right now and where it’s going. So it was a really terrific conversation to have with him.
Washington: It sounds like it. Let’s get straight to it. Here is Mark and Joel right now.
Joel Edgerton in “Train Dreams.”
(Netflix)
Mark Olsen: As we’re talking, the movie has been building this sense of momentum around it with reviews and awards. And while there is an awards campaign around the movie, there is something about it that feels very organic. This movie seems to be catching on through word of mouth, just people seeing it and responding to it. How do you feel about the response to the movie?
Joel Edgerton: It feels very good. Coming from an independent film background, I love it when small movies make a lot of noise. And I can’t really analyze or diagnose why, but I get this feeling with “Train Dreams” that it means different things for different people and it holds up a bit of a mirror to their own experience, being that the film is really this celebration of an ordinary life and shows the majesty in that. What my character goes through, they’re universal experiences and so people find something of their own experience in it and I think that’s part of the reason why. It’s a small movie but it’s also a very big movie.
Olsen: The other side of that, in a way, you were recently on a red carpet and you were asked about some comments that James Cameron had made regarding movies on streaming services and the awards race. And I don’t know if you want to say anything more about that, but also do you feel like people do somehow hold it against “Train Dreams” that it’s on Netflix?
Edgerton: Look, the world we live in now is so in the hands of the audiences because of social media. I feel like in the old days, well before I was born, we were told who our movie stars were. The studios would make those decisions for us, and things were very narrow. And now people have the power to choose what they want to watch, who they want to watch, they choose the movie stars. They speak about the movies, and Letterboxd, for example, is such a big thing. And in that same vein, it’s really interesting to hear what people, regular people, moviegoers think of how movies should be exhibited, how they feel, regardless of whether they know about the business side of things or not, or why things are the way they are. They have feelings, sometimes very passionate points of view on where and how we should watch movies. And of course, for all of the business side, if we put it aside, I do believe people want to go to the cinema and watch movies.
My comments come from understanding now where I am in my life. I’m all about creativity and all about story, but I do understand business, and I feel like I emerged out of my bubble in Sydney and felt like the whole world of cinema had suddenly changed. My views on streaming had started to evolve just after we showed a movie at Cannes called “The Stranger.” Another very small movie we made down in Adelaide and Netflix picked up the movie and I remember thinking, “Should we go with them?” So many people saw that movie because it was on a streamer. And so my feelings are very mixed and they’re very much tailored to what the movie is — and therefore according to what the movie is and how big or small it is, where it should live. I’m all for pushing to fight for keeping cinema alive and I believe a younger generation feels the same thing. But I also feel like there are chances that some people have that are narrow as they get their start in the business, which means sometimes the first things you can do, you’re not necessarily going to get a 2,000-screen release on your very first movie. So I have many, many opinions about it. But I feel like we all need to fight for cinema. We also sort of hopefully don’t allow streaming, as great as it can be, to take over everything. That’s my feeling.
Olsen: You’re also a producer as well. This feels like we’re in the middle of a transformative moment for the industry. What is it like for you as a person in the middle of that tide, just trying to navigate that for yourself?
Edgerton: Again, it’s all about what is the story and where should it live. My feeling always is that if I ever get behind making something, I want as many people as possible to see it. I also want to have an exchange at the cinema. One of the great things about “Train Dreams” is I’ve done about 50 Q&As so far — I haven’t counted them up, but around that, and we’ll do a bunch more. We’ve been to a number of festivals and we have an exchange with the audience. We get to watch and see people’s reaction to the film in like an analog way. Sometimes the feeling with letting a movie go on streamer without any fanfare is that it feels like it disappears with a whisper, and you don’t get to have that exchange. And I think that’s very important.
My dream would be to make a film exhibited at the cinema, knowing that at some point it will end up on TV screens and in people’s lounge rooms all over the world. And finding the right way to get a balance of both. There’s nothing better than sitting in the cinema and watching a movie with a bunch of other people. The sad thing at the moment [is] it seems — and again, I don’t know the full diagnostics of it — you get a cinema release and you’re there for like two weeks and then you’re replaced by something else. I’m old enough to remember the days where a movie would sit in the cinema for six, seven, eight weeks if it was good.
Olsen: I don’t want to belabor the point, but I’m so curious about this. I’m assuming when you went to the Gotham Awards you were not thinking “I’m going to give James Cameron a piece of my mind tonight.” Do you find in the time that you’ve been doing this, now you may show up to something and you have no idea what someone’s going to ask you, you have to be ready to talk about just about anything?
Edgerton: You’re right, and I never expect a red carpet is a mine field. I do go home sometimes and think, “What did I say?” I knew what I said. And I also stand by what I said. What I don’t love is the process of reduction of someone’s comments. Someone had sent me this thing that said that I “lashed out” or used a word that was quite a violent one, like I was lashing back at James Cameron. I was like, “No, I wasn’t doing that at all.” I actually had a fair and balanced opinion about the fact that James is, excuse the semi-pun, a titan. He is a pioneer and an inventor and we’ve seen that he’s created technology that has made movies better. He can exhibit movies in this broad scale because he’s dared to dream big. And I feel like there’s a world where there are people who are never going to get their first film on 2,000 screens because it’s a small story, movies like “Sorry, Baby.” They’re not 2,000-screen release movies. There’s a world where they live somewhere, whether it’s in small art house cinemas or whatever. So I was like, “All right, don’t make it feel like I’m putting the gloves on and have a fight with James Cameron, because he’s probably going to win if that’s the case.” And that’s certainly not what I was doing at all. Just saying my point of view is slightly different. And I also understand his point of view. But [comedic wrestler voice] “I’ll meet you on the top oval, James. Let’s do it.” I’m not trying to start a fight. I’m a lover, not a fighter.
Olsen: To start talking about “Train Dreams,” you’ve talked a lot about how you read the book around 2018 or so and the rights weren’t available so you set that idea aside —
Edgerton: Sulked a bit.
Olsen: What do you feel like you were responding to then in that book?
Edgerton: I’ve heard the term neo-western, which I understand now, but it didn’t really make sense to me at the time. When I first read the book, we come into the story with this violent act towards the Chinese worker, for anyone who’s seen the film. And I didn’t know Denis Johnson’s work at all at the time. The book had been gifted to me as a wrap gift on “Boy Erased.” I thought, “If someone gives you a book, it means they think there’s some meaning in it for you, that it will resonate with you,” and it did. But I thought, “Oh, this is a western.” And then within a handful of pages, I realized it was a different kind of western. It would look and feel like a western, but it was a rumination on a life itself. Not that it was going to answer the big elusive question of the meaning of life, but swirling questions of what is the purpose of a life and what is in the extraordinary details of a life we may never care to remember because the person is not the great inventor, the great general, the great president or superhero. I love the ordinariness, I love the idea that it resonated with something that my parents had always instilled in me, which is that every single human being has a great story to tell and that we all shouldn’t be considered insignificant. And I just was so moved by the sort of glimpses of one man’s entire life. Wanted to get my hands on it, couldn’t, and I’m happy to say that it’s good that I didn’t get my big fat lumberjack hands on it then. Mostly because I think [director and co-writer] Clint [Bentley] is a remarkably sensitive, excellent filmmaker [and] has done a much better job than I ever would if I was in control of things. And because in the four years since he reached out to me to be in the film, I’d become a dad. And that was like everything to me. And if you’ve seen the film and you know what’s inside of the film, I really believe that my performance, I don’t know what my performance would have been like pre-Joel the Dad, but now that I am a dad, it’s like there’s stuff inside of me that makes this performance possible.
Olsen: But when it came back to you, do you feel like you responded to it differently? Did you recognize that difference right away?
Edgerton: One hundred percent. And I know it, there was a significant moment. Clint came to meet me in Chicago, I was shooting “Dark Matter” and I was very excited that this had somehow come around to me, knowing that I loved the book and the character so much. Then I watched “Jockey” and knew that he was a really solid filmmaker. His adaptation was extraordinary. And then when I met him, I realized as a filmmaker he was like a director version of the central character of the film — kind, honest, generous, a really great observer. And I went home and I spoke to my wife, and she obviously, her two big questions every time I want to do a project [are] when and where. Because it means moving us around, uprooting our family. I told her and Spokane didn’t exactly make her click her heels, because her life is about being plugged into big cities. She said, what’s the story about? And I started trying to tell her the story, and when I got to the stuff that happens to Robert in the middle of the film, and my 1 1/2-year-old twins are in the other room, I couldn’t even finish telling her the story. And I realized then how much the story now kind of terrified me. But also was so much more connected for me. And she watched me, my chin was quivering and and she was like, “All right, I guess we’re going to Spokane.”
Olsen: Have you done a project that felt this personal before? And did that have its own kind of anxiety attached? Did you have any reluctance to do this for the reason that you were connecting to it so strongly?
Edgerton: I feel like I learn something about myself on every job and every time I approach a new job, I always describe it in rudimentary terms, like a toolkit. What aspects of myself do I bring to this? Which parts do I leave behind? And how would I approach this? For example, “Gatsby” for me felt like, “This is about me turning myself up to 11 out of 10, bringing something bigger.” And with “Train Dreams” what I’ve really learned was how much in the past I’ve tried to hide from myself. And I feel like it’s a trap a lot of actors fall into, is thinking they’re not enough and you have to adorn a performance to be really seen or heard or impress. And I realized how much I’ve avoided playing characters that are very much like me. And though Robert’s a lumberjack, I’m putting all the trappings of it aside on an emotional level. How much is a character like you? And I’m constantly trying to play dress ups and really interested in being people that I’m not and I think that my favorite actors have often been transformative character actors. So I felt like my task in my mind was always to do something different and run away from the idea of just showing my own self really. And I realized that as a husband, as a father and as a guy who’s constantly guilty and struggling with the idea of being away from my family for work, these are all things that Robert is [dealing with], just doing a different job. A contract worker, which I am too except I’m not chopping down trees. And I have my greatest fears around my kids and the safety of my kids. So it felt to me like this was a chance to be very open about my own feelings and bring that to the work without feeling like I had to put too much garnish on things. And that’s a bit scary for me. But it now makes me realize it’s probably a better path in the future to do a bit more of that, just be a bit more open rather than hiding who I am, if that makes any sense.
Olsen: Completely. Because a lot of reviews of the movie, I sort of said this myself, have noted how it feels almost as if your career has been building to this performance, leading to it somehow. Does it feel like that to you?
Edgerton: I know that in decades to come I’ll look back and say always that “Train Dreams” is one of the great experiences I’ve ever had. The process and the result. I think the movie’s fantastic, but what I got out of it personally, it was extraordinary. Look, I hope that I’m building towards something else extraordinary in the future, and it’s like a new mission with each film and each story and each character. But this one definitely feels special for me, and it feels like I use the word “suitable,” which feels so boring. But I played characters that are not suitable for me in the past, and I’ve really challenged myself to bend into shapes that are different from who I am, rhythms that are different from what I’m like, successfully or relatively unsuccessfully. I can’t really judge it for myself. But this felt really suitable. It felt like it belonged to me.
Olsen: You’re also a director, writer, producer. What is it like for you when you show up to a project and you’re just an actor? Does it allow you to focus more on your performance? Or are you always like, “I was thinking you could put the camera over there.”
Edgerton: It’s such a relief. I think directing is the best job in the world, but I wouldn’t want to be doing it every time I went to work, because there’s a lot of stress, a lot of responsibility. Many times I’ve described the difference between acting and directing. An actor is like a child. Literally you could turn up to work in your pajamas, somebody will put makeup on you, dress you, you have one — well, I don’t want to be reductive about it — but you have one job, to play your character and fit into the story, serve the story. As a director you’re running the household. You’ve got to do everything. You’ve got to stock the fridge, you’ve got to make all the decisions about everything in the household, and there’s so much responsibility to that.
I was curious after I directed my first film, how I would be walking onto another director’s set. And it would just be a sin to walk onto someone else’s set and start to look over their shoulder and check their homework and sort of impose yourself on that process. I realized the two things that fascinated me the most were what lens was being put on the camera according to what the shot was. So I just became like really quietly observant. Actors who direct get this sort of great luxury of visiting so many sets and watching other directors and learning from them, good and bad things. And behavioral stuff. It’s not just about how their craft works or how they apply themselves as filmmakers, but how they conduct themselves as people, how they treat their crew, how they elicit the best out of their heads of department and give them freedom or not. Like Clint, for example, on “Train Dreams” is amazing at deputizing his heads of department, giving them freedom, and I think that’s the greatest show of power as a director, the confidence of relinquishing control because you hired the great people and you’re trusting them to collaborate with you. So as an actor I love the freedom of just being there to serve the story. And then watching and putting little things in my ideas bag for next time if I’m lucky enough to be the director again.
Olsen: You were recently on [“Late Night With Seth Meyers”] and he said that he thought it was a very wonderful performance and he noted how you don’t have very much dialogue in the movie and you said you think it’s wonderful because there isn’t much dialogue. And you were kidding, but I wonder if you could unravel that a little bit. How do you think the lack of dialogue in the movie impacted your performance?
Edgerton: Words are there to confuse us in the world. There’s the things we say, what they actually mean, there’s so many layers to any conversation you have with any person. There’s something really interesting about people who don’t speak very much. There’s a mystery often to them. I think there’s a lot of mystery to men that I grew up with in my life. I find myself drawn to people that don’t speak very much because I’m wondering what they think, what do they think of me, what’s going on in their mind. As an actor, I guess I really cut my teeth on “Loving” with Jeff Nichols. He’s a character, again, a very good man who had a lot of feelings and a lot to say, but for whatever reason or for different reasons, with Richard Loving and with Robert, chooses not to say things or doesn’t know if he has the right to say certain things. As an actor I think what becomes the focus is knowing that the camera sees, is looking into your soul. The thought is the imperative, to put the thoughts in the right place, to just be present, knowing that the camera will read those things. And of course the story’s job is to help guide us along and we have a narration. But I was always hoping that the camera will see what’s on my mind and for me to then fill that with words would actually kind of be counter to what the character is, which is one of these very stoic nonverbal men that I think we can all identify with or that we’ve met in our lives. So it’s just putting the right thoughts in my head.
Olsen: It is remarkable how often in the movie it’s as if we’re just watching you feel, you’re sort of taking in your surroundings, you’re not really saying much, but it does feel like we’re in your head, that we can understand what the character is thinking and what you’re conveying as a performer.
Edgerton: Thank you. I was smiling because I was remembering the square root of eight. Do you know what I’m talking about? There’s an episode of “Friends” — is it Joey who’s the actor? — he’s like, “When you’ve got to act and you’ve got to look like you’re really trying to work something out, you’ve just got to think of the square root of eight.” It actually works. But I wasn’t using it in “Train Dreams.”
Olsen: The story does build to this scene with Kerry Condon where your character actually does explain himself. What was it like to flip the switch and have to be verbal and emotional in a more conventional way?
Edgerton: Talking about emotion was one of the tricky things with “Train Dreams.” Clint and I had many conversations, very cerebral conversations, theoretical conversations about story — and emotion was one of them. So Robert’s a character, one of these men who is not really willing to show his emotions. And when he does he’s very quick to put them down, or in the case of the film he apologizes for showing his grief. But it’s all building to this moment, and this is one of the things I love about the film, is that it illuminates the importance of human connection. Robert meets this character Claire that the audience feels like maybe there’s a romance about to happen, which I love that it doesn’t steer in that direction. These chance encounters with strangers that we maybe don’t know that we need to have met on our journey, that are a chance for us to express ourselves. And he has a chance to, whether he knows it or not, he’s going to tell her about his feelings of strange complicity in something he had no responsibility for. And we knew that we were building towards this and yet at the same time we’re still trying to keep a lid on the emotions, but finally Robert gets to speak and it makes so much more sense of his silence up until that point if he we finally hear him string more than a sentence together to try and talk about what’s inside of him and those scenes we shot them in a short one-and-a-half hour window of magic hour with Kerry, who’s just extraordinary. And it felt like time was standing still, even though you would think that there would be a sense that we were rushing. It felt like we had hours.
Olsen: As you’re making the movie, are you talking with Clint or William H. Macy or Felicity Jones, having these kind of big picture, thematic conversations? Because the movie invites these questions of, what makes a life? How do you define being a man? Are you having those conversations while you’re making the movie?
Edgerton: There’s something fascinating about “Train Dreams.” Something I say is so special about Clint is, I know this because I read so many screenplays and I think about story all the time, is this draw to tell an audience what to feel all the time. Whether it’s through words, the story itself, music. “Train Dreams” does this thing that as much as I can speak about it objectively, and it’s the same in the novella, these moments that aren’t telling you what to feel, they’re just layering on top of each other, and I feel like there’s some compression of all these things. It pulls something out of people in their own way. They find their own experience out of it, which can be quite emotional and quite cathartic in a good way. Particularly anyone who’s been through moments where they’re being knocked down in life. I think there’s some sort of hopefulness in watching Robert’s story. It’s hard to define, but there’s a confidence in the way Clint’s rendered it. It’s not telling you each time what to feel. Robert’s not telling you, it’s not screaming to the heavens. There’s nothing sort of overly melodramatic or cathartic about it. And yet these layers build and compress. I had a very similar experience watching “Into the Wild,” Sean Penn’s film. It’s another character isolating himself in in nature. The credits roll and something in me just was like it was like, “I needed to feel something.” I call them a happy cry movie. You know, you’re crying but also happy at the same time.
Olsen: There’s a a moment in the film that I find so haunting and I’ve been trying to unravel it for myself. It’s late in the film, it’s the 1960s, you’re portraying the character as an old man. And in the voice-over the narrator Will Patton says something like, “He never spoke on a telephone.” And there’s something about that I just find deeply moving and really haunting. And I’m struggling to even define for myself what it is about that idea that really gets me.
Edgerton: Because there’s these great things in the movie that I call little sidecars or whatever, this idea that the world is sort of moving so quickly it’s going to leave us behind. It reminded me of my grandmother, who when I pointed a video camera at her for the first time, she didn’t move because she was thinking I was taking a photo of her. And I was saying “It’s OK, this is a camera that’s gonna capture you moving.” She was like Robert. She never saw some of these things. She never experienced a lot of things. I think she went on an airplane, like a jumbo jet, once in her life. And there’s a great thing in the book actually, about Robert and his point of view on the world and as he’s aging, and it talks about his body and his spine and the way his shoulders moved. For example, that scene where Robert goes up to the window and realizes he’s staring at a man walking on the moon and he’s looking up at the sky, wondering, “How is that even possible?” There’s this sense of his physical dilapidation as he moves. It’s this guy that every time he turns his head has to move his entire body from all the hard work. But all this is sort of just a general sense of wonderment that I remember in my grandmother’s eyes when she would look at new things. But this sort of awe and childlike wonder at the world, which I found very special.
Olsen: Part of the story also deals with just how to know when your time has past. And you and I are about the same age and it’s something I grapple with a lot, wanting to be sure that I still have something meaningful to contribute. Do you worry about that for yourself? In a way it comes back to where we started this conversation, that there are people who would tell you that movies are on the way out.
Edgerton: Relevance is a weird thing. I always saw myself as the youngest person in the room. I started very young. I was young at drama school. I was always young, and now I’m not. The beauty of being an actor if we’re allowed to keep doing what we’re doing, if AI doesn’t mess everything up, as long as my brain keeps working, I can keep learning about the new versions of myself as I get older. You know, “Train Dreams” is a good chance for me to see myself in the middle of my life. But I wonder about relevance. I wonder about my character staring at a chainsaw in the movie and wondering how it’s going to affect his world. I wonder at that for myself, as I’ve never downloaded ChatGPT. I’m sort of terrified, but I also feel like I need to not turn a blind eye to it. I have young kids. I’ve got to accept this thing. But I do worry about what it’s going to do to movies. What I feel optimistic about [is] — I always evoke Jonathan Glazer’s film, “Zone of Interest.” Because I think the genius of that film is the beautiful human thought behind the point of view of setting a Holocaust film in the general’s house over the wall in an opulent setting. And I keep thinking, “I don’t think AI is going to come up with an idea like that, think outside the box.” I think it pushes us into more of a challenge of the unique thought, the unique piece of art, doing things that are bespoke. I don’t think we’ll ever want to stop watching human beings or listening to human stories told by humans, starring humans, music made by humans, paintings painted by humans. I hope. Yes, we can enjoy the wildness of what computers create for us. But I don’t think zeros and ones are going to entirely ruin our lives. But then I can be pessimistic too. I won’t rant on that.
Not to offend Larry David by saying it as late as Jan. 7, but: Happy New Year!
The turning of the calendar also signals that Phase I of awards season is coming to a close. With the Golden Globes and a big weekend of parties on the horizon, I’m proud to share our last issue — and my last letter from the editor — until after the Oscar nominations.
I’ll be back in February to unveil our three issues in Phase II. And be sure to keep an eye out Friday for Glenn Whipp’s newsletter, which will have more on our Jan. 8 cover subject, George Clooney.
Digital cover story: ‘Bugonia’
(JSquared Photography / For The Times)
Fans of Yorgos Lanthimos’ misanthropic comedies will forgive the Michael Haneke pun in my coverline for Michael Ordoña’s story on “Bugonia,” starring Emma Stone as a healthcare CEO and Jesse Plemons as the conspiracy theorist who believes she’s an alien invader. And not simply because Haneke’s own brand of bleak absurdism seems to have rubbed off on Lanthimos. Funny games — well, ‘silly games’ — are at the core of Lanthimos’ distinct creative process.
“It makes it light,” the filmmaker explained. “You don’t take yourself too seriously. You don’t take the material seriously. You’re gargling and doing lines, whatever. It’s a way of the actors getting the dialogue in them in an unconscious way, not fixed with a kind of intellectual baggage, so it’s freer and it has more possibilities. And they feel comfortable with each other.”
Small roles, big performances
(Los Angeles Times photo illustration; photos by Dania Maxwell / For The Times; Warner Bros. Pictures; Tatum Mangus)
Envelope copy chief Blake Hennon sent up a cheer when Lisa Rosen’s recurring spotlight on the brilliant-but-unheralded turns that we love in movies came across his desk, and rightly so. In a flash, a film can make an indelible impression, and it’s often thanks to those who fall outside the usual pundit predictions.
This year’s participants include real-life siblings Jacobi and Noah Jupe (“Hamnet”), Paul Thomas Anderson stalwart April Grace (“One Battle After Another”) and one-scene wonder Hadley Robinson (“The History of Sound”).
The shot of the season
Thanks to contributor Daron James, the back page of every Envelope features an unforgettable frame from a film or TV series, accompanied by an explanation from the artists behind it. And while all are striking, I’m glad to say we’re ending Phase I on my favorite.
Perhaps it’s that “Breathless” was one of the first movies that made me fall in love with movies. Perhaps it’s Richard Linklater’s courageous decision to have his protagonist wear dark sunglasses throughout the movie. Perhaps it’s the charm of actors Guillaume Marbeck and Zoey Deutch. It’s probably all of the above. But whatever the reason, the final shot of “Nouvelle Vague” is, for my money, the best single shot I saw in 2025.
Meow Wolf likes to say that its upcoming Los Angeles exhibition is focused on the art of storytelling — why it matters, what it means and how stories transform.
“This exhibition is about the inevitability of change,” says creative director Elizabeth Jarrett, “and how the stories that we tell ourselves and others have the ability to affect the way we perceive change and the way we experience it.”
That also means that Meow Wolf, known for its large-scale, explorable installations in Las Vegas, Denver, Houston, the Dallas suburbs and its home base of Santa Fe, N.M., will double down on its experiments with other media. Throughout the Los Angeles show, guests will encounter mixes of live action and animation, shadow boxes, games and even a mini escape room, only here guests have to break into rather than out of a secret room.
The Times spent two days in Santa Fe late last year to preview Meow Wolf’s Los Angeles exhibition, set to take over part of the Cinemark complex at Howard Hughes L.A. near the end of this year. Here are five fast things to know about the experience.
The shots had stopped falling. The tension had started rising. Fresh off its worst loss of the Lindsay Gottlieb era, USC had, for the better part of three quarters, looked well on its way to a get-right win Tuesday, the sort that might help ease the embarrassment from a 34-point loss to bitter rival UCLA.
But over the course of the fourth quarter, as Oregon clawed its way back, the Trojans tightened up. The offense looked out of sorts. The defense looked out of breath. No. 21 USC (10-5, 2-2 in the Big Ten) missed its first eight shots of the quarter, just as Oregon (14-3, 2-2) exploded on that end, its worst fears coming to life out of the loss.
Over four minutes and 46 painful seconds, the Trojans went scoreless, unable to do much of anything but watch as Oregon stole a 71-66 victory Tuesday.
The loss was USC’s second in a row, marking the first time since January 2024 that the Trojans suffered consecutive defeats.
Even as Oregon mounted a late run, USC had its chances to shoot its way back into the game. Londynn Jones hit a three-pointer, and freshman Jazzy Davidson made a jumper, her only bucket of the second half, to give the Trojans a nine-point lead with just under five minutes remaining.
But those were the last two buckets USC would score. Oregon’s Ari Long hit a three-pointer, then drained another on the next possession. The Galen Center crowd groaned, seemingly knowing what was coming next.
With 32 seconds remaining, Oregon called a timeout. The Ducks found Long again coming out of the break, and she sank a third three-pointer, this one costly.
Kara Dunn did what she could to keep USC afloat, scoring 21 points and adding nine rebounds. Davidson struggled to find her shooting stroke, but still filled the stat sheet with 13 rebounds, five assists, two blocks and two steals to go with 14 points.
Jones even gave USC critical contributions throughout, as the Trojans were forced to play without sophomore Kennedy Smith, their best defender who has a leg injury, according to the team.
She was missed Tuesday, especially down the stretch, as Long torched the Trojans for nine of her 11 points in the final minutes.
Where USC goes from here remains to be seen, but the schedule doesn’t get any easier, with four more matchups against ranked teams before January is up.
It took nearly four minutes for USC to find the basket to start the game, its offense picking up right where it left off Saturday in its sluggish loss to UCLA. The Trojans missed nine of their first 10 shots, unable to find any semblance of a rhythm.
Then finally, Malia Samuels hit a corner three. Jones sank a three-pointer of her own. Then Dunn got in the party.
USC exhaled — and proceeded to finish the first quarter on a 16-0 run.
The defense did most of the heavy lifting from there, holding Oregon at arm’s length until the fourth quarter, when the Ducks flew out in front, dealing the Trojans another loss.
The water bubbles up hot from the earth and sunlight filters down through the branches of mighty oaks.
But before you can soak in Santa Barbara County’s highly popular Montecito Hot Springs, you’ll need to hike a little over a mile uphill, threading your way among boulders, oaks and a meandering creek. And before the hike, there are two other crucial steps: getting to the trailhead and knowing what to expect.
The trail to Montecito Hot Springs.
These rustic spring pools are about 95 miles northwest of L.A. City Hall, just upslope from well-to-do Montecito, whose residents include Oprah Winfrey, Prince Harry and his wife, Meghan Markle, and Gwyneth Paltrow.
Though the trail and hot springs are part of Los Padres National Forest, the trailhead is in a residential neighborhood of gated mansions. Beyond the trailhead parking area (which has room for eight or nine cars), the neighborhood includes very little curbside parking. After visitation surged during the pandemic, some neighbors were accused by county officials of placing boulders to obstruct public parking. Parking options were reduced further when county officials added parking restrictions earlier this year.
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Bottom line: Unless you can arrive on a weekday between 8 and 10 a.m., you’re probably better off taking a rideshare service to get there. Whenever you arrive, you’re likely to have company. And you might want to wait until the landscape dries out a bit from the rains of recent weeks.
As Los Padres National Forest spokesman Andrew Madsen warned, “the foothills of Santa Barbara are especially fragile and hiking is especially precarious in the aftermath of heavy rains.”
All that said, the hike is rewarding and free. From the Hot Springs Canyon trailhead at East Mountain Drive and Riven Rock Road, it’s a 2.5-mile out-and-back trail to the hot springs, with about 800 feet of altitude gain on the way.
Arriving at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday, I got the last parking spot at the trailhead, stepped past the signs forbidding parking before 8 a.m. or after sunset, then stepped past another sign warning that “this is a challenging and rugged hike.” Also, there are no bathrooms or trash cans on the trail or at the springs.
“It’s important that people know what’s going on up there before they show up,” said Madsen. “It’s not all that glamorous.”
Even though it’s only 1.2 or 1.3 miles to the hot springs, plan on about an hour of uphill hiking. Once you’re above the residential lots, you’ll see pipes along the way, carrying water down the hill, along with occasional trailside poison oak. As you near the pools, you’ll pick up the scent of sulfur and notice the water turning a strange bluish hue. Then the trail jumps across the creek — which I initially missed.
But there was a silver lining. That detour gave me a chance to admire the stone ruins of a hotel that was built next to the springs in 1870s. After a fire, it became a private club. Then it burned in the Coyote fire of 1964, which blackened more than 65,000 acres, destroyed more than 90 homes and killed a firefighter. The hot springs and surrounding land have been part of Los Padres National Forest since 2013.
Hikers look west from the ruins near Montecito Hot Springs.
(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)
On a clear day with the sun in the right place, you can stand among the overgrown ruins, look west and see the ocean, a few old oil platforms and the long, low silhouette of Santa Cruz Island. This is what the native Chumash would have seen (minus the oil platforms) through the many years they used the springs before European immigrants arrived.
Pleasant as that view was, I was ready to soak, as were the two couples who got momentarily lost with me. (We were all Montecito Hot Springs rookies.) Once we’d retraced our steps to the creek and crossed it, the trail took us quickly past a hand-lettered CLOTHING OPTIONAL sign to a series of spring-fed pools of varying temperatures.
A dozen people were already lazing in and around the uppermost pools (one woman topless, one man bottomless), but several pools remained empty. I took one that was about 2 feet deep and perhaps 90 degrees. In one pool near me sat Ryan Binter, 30, and Kyra Rubinstein, 26, both from Wichita, Kan.
Hikers Ryan Binter and Kyra Rubinstein, visiting from Wichita, Kan., soak at Montecito Hot Springs.
(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)
“She found this,” said Binter, praising Rubinstein’s internet search savvy.
At the next pool were Emanuel Leon, 20, of Carpinteria, Calif., and Evelyn Torres, 19, of Santa Barbara. The last time they’d tried this hike, they’d strayed off-track and missed the hot springs, so this time, they were savoring the scene.
“Revenge!” said Leon, settling in.
The soaking was so mellow, quiet and unhurried that I was surprised to learn that the pools were not erected legally. As Madsen of the Los Padres National Forest explained later by phone, they were “created by the trail gnomes” — hikers arranging rocks themselves to adjust water flow and temperature, with no government entities involved.
Legal or not, they made a nice reward after the hike uphill. The downhill hike out was easier and quicker, of course, but still tricky because of the rocks and twisting trail.
On your way out of Montecito, especially if it’s your first time, take a good look at the adobe-style grandeur of the Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Catholic Church building, which looks like it was smuggled into California from Santa Fe. For food and drink, head to Coast Village Road (the community’s main drag) or the Montecito Village Shopping Center on East Valley Road. Those shops and restaurants may not match the wonder and comfort of a natural bath in the woods, but for civilization, they’re not bad.
Traditional powers Ohio State, Georgia and Alabama exit the College Football Playoff along with Texas Tech. Upstarts Indiana, Ole Miss, Miami and Oregon continue on.
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times, host of The Envelope newsletter and the guy wondering how many New Year’s resolutions you’ve broken so far this year.
Let’s take a look back — and a look forward — because that’s what we’re contractually obligated to do this time of year.
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Every year, some editor at The Times buzzes my inbox with a request to gather my hopes and dreams into a purely speculative list of movies I’m looking forward to seeing in the coming 12 months. That email serves as a marker that the Earth has orbited the sun once again and it’s time to buy a new planner — because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Google Calendar know what I’m doing 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
I was asked to contribute two movies to the list last year, and I chose “One Battle After Another” and “Materialists.” So … one masterpiece that should go on to win the Oscar for best picture and the movie that seems to be the most hated film of 2025. Seriously, people will approach me at parties and say, unprompted, “You know what movie I despised? ‘Materialists.’” And then, after unloading on how much they loathed the characters in Celine Song’s romantic drama, they’ll shift gears and go on a diatribe about late-stage capitalism.
(My New Year’s resolution: find better parties.)
You could say, then, that I got one right and one wrong, though I was partly looking forward to “Materialists” because Song had regaled me with tales of her Manhattan matchmaking days over a couple glasses of wine one night and I wanted to see how she’d weave these stories into a movie. And it turned out that was the best part of the film. So there. No more emails about “Materialists,” please.
At least Song’s film saw the light of day. Looking back on our 2025 list, there are still movies that haven’t made it to theaters. The “Untitled Trey Parker/Matt Stone Film,” once scheduled for July 4, now has a title, “Whitney Springs,” but no new release date. Neither does Terrence Malick’s biblical drama, “The Way of the Wind,” which Malick has reportedly been editing for a good six years now. That movie didn’t make our 2026 list, but, fingers crossed, it might resurface sometime in the next decade when we throw together another of these.
So what movies am I looking forward to seeing when it stops raining (talk about biblical drama) and we start turning the calendar’s pages? I raised my hand for three, and I’m confident this trio will satisfy, mostly because of their directors’ track record. To see everyone else’s picks — including a few I would have chosen myself — read the full list here.
“Disclosure Day”: I liked it better when this was simply known as “Untitled Steven Spielberg UFO movie.” What more do you need to know beyond that description and a prime summer release date? That’s enough to sell a few hundred million dollars in tickets and make me giddy with anticipation. We don’t know much at the moment, other than that Spielberg is working again with “Jurassic Park” and “War of the Worlds” screenwriter David Koepp. There’s an eye-catching billboard with an image that looks alien and kind of birdlike … unless you study it while standing on your head and then it looks … human? Who knows? ALL WILL BE DISCLOSED, the tagline promises, hence the title. So we’ll just have to wait. But from all appearances, we’re not in “E.T.” territory with this one.
“The Adventures of Cliff Booth”: Do we need a stand-alone Cliff Booth movie? Quentin Tarantino thinks so, though not enough to direct the sequel he wrote to his hit 2019 film “Once Upon a Time in … Hollywood.” That’s OK, as Brad Pitt, who won an Oscar for playing Booth, the ass-kicking stuntman, enlisted David Fincher to sub in. It’ll be their fourth collaboration, following “Se7en,” “Fight Club” and “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” a track record that offers some optimism that a film elevating Booth from Rick Dalton’s loyal sidekick to a leading character is an idea worth pursuing. (Leonardo DiCaprio apparently turned down an offer to reprise Dalton in a cameo.) If nothing else, the movie’s 1977 setting, eight years after the events in “Once Upon a Time,” will give us the chance to revel in another glorious L.A. time capsule.
“Werwulf”: Robert Eggers calls his upcoming medieval werewolf movie the “darkest thing I have ever written, by far.” Let that sink in for a moment. Eggers’ filmography includes the suffocating madness found in “The Witch” and “The Lighthouse” and the chilling terror of a malevolent, shape-shifting, lustful vampire in “Nosferatu.” These are not light movies. So what are we in store for here? Apparently a member of Eggers’ sound team said he needed a hug after reading the “Werwulf” script. I couldn’t verify this, but I want this to be true. There will be blood — and fog. One other thing we know is the setting, 13th century England, which means that the film’s dialogue will be in Middle English. How fareth thoue with that? I’m sure the cast, which includes Eggers regulars Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Lily-Rose Depp, Willem Dafoe and Ralph Ineson, had fun, verraily.
There you have it: Spielberg, Fincher, Eggers. A sci-fi thriller, a sequel I still can’t believe exists and a monster movie. All three of these might miss the mark. And, honestly, any list missing the guaranteed pleasures of “Practical Magic 2” is immediately suspect.
But that’s the folly of blindly looking ahead. You never know.
Happy New Year! And, as always, thanks for reading.
Pete Holmes understands the art of conversation — especially the way to get people to open up about their secret weird tendencies.
It’s what helped Holmes, known for his youth pastor aesthetic and wholesome jokes, build his more than 20-year-long comedy career (his next show is Jan. 21 at Largo at the Coronet) and create his semi-autographical HBO series “Crashing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
In 2011, Holmes launched “You Made It Weird,” an interview-style podcast that delves into topics like the meaning of life, mental health, art and everything everything in between. More than 1,000 episodes later, he is celebrating the 14th anniversary of the show and has recently signed with podcast network Lemonada Media (which is also home to Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ “Wiser Than Me,” “The Sarah Silverman Podcast” and “Hasan Minhaj Doesn’t Know”).
“I’ve never for a second considered stopping, which is a good sign that you’re doing something you’re supposed to do,” says Holmes, whose guests have included John Mulaney, Maya Rudolph, Anna Kendrick, Kenan Thompson and Henry Winkler. Once a week, Holmes co-hosts the show with his wife of eight years, Valerie Chaney.
His nervous system also assures him that he’s found the right project. While Holmes says he feels “tense” before his stand-up sets, there’s a sense of comfort in sitting face to face with someone and simply having a conversation. “When I’m doing my podcast, especially in person, there’s very, very little tension,” he says. “It’s the thing in show business, I’ve found, that winds me up in a bad way the least.”
Here’s how Holmes would spend an ideal Sunday in L.A. with Chaney and their 7-year-old daughter, Lila.
This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for length and clarity.
8 a.m.: Visit a coffee shopwith a sense of humor
My daughter and I are both morning people, which really works out because her mom is not a morning person. So we get up early and we’ll color, make breakfast, that sort of stuff. But if we were all getting up together — which is what my wife would want to do even though she doesn’t like it — we would go to Bru in Los Feliz. I love recommending Bru to people because it’s in an “I Think You Should Leave” sketch. Tim Robinson is leaving a job interview and he’s pulling the door, but it’s one that you have to push, and he doesn’t want to look stupid so he keeps pulling it. They actually have a little plaque up that says something cool about it without being too obvious. I like drinking espresso by itself, Val likes oat milk lattes and Lila would get a steamed milk because she wants to feel like a grown-up. It’s very cute.
10 a.m.: Read at least seven children’s books at Skylight
Afterward, we’d go to Skylight Books, which is nearby. I can tell you from experience, they’re incredibly generous with allowing you to read your kids seven books without any trouble. On principle, I’ll buy at least one of the books on our way out, because that’s exactly what people are talking about when they’re like, “Shop local.”
11 a.m.: Drink a terrible dark green juice
Then we’ll walk to the Punchbowl and I’m gonna get a terrible dark green juice that nobody wants and would make a goat go blind. I love it because I’m 46 and now I eat almost exclusively for how it’s going to make me feel. So it’s very uncool but that’s what I’m doing. My wife and daughter are going to get a smoothie called the honeybee, which is very sweet and delicious.
Noon: A pancake for the table at Kitchen Mouse
We would go to Kitchen Mouse in Highland Park. It’s really hip. The last time I was there, I ran into Phoebe Bridgers. Literally rock stars are at Kitchen Mouse and there’s a little kids area where my daughter can play with like a fake hamburger and a child she just met. I get the same thing every time: the breakfast sandwich and a snickerdoodle pancake for the table. If you and I went to breakfast together, I would never ask, “Do you want a pancake for the table?” because I don’t need you to be my accomplice. I know you want a pancake for the table because guess who wants pancakes? Everyone. This is going to reverse the juice that I had earlier, but it’s going to be worth it.
2 p.m. Enjoy an Angry Samoa donut at the park
We have friends who live in Highland Park, so we’d visit them and we’d all take a walk to Donut Friend, and eat the donuts at the little park nearby. The park has giant bugs and a tube slide. When you’re 46 and have kids, sitting down is your heroin. Not to keep mentioning veganism, but Donut Friend has really good vegan donuts. You gotta get the Angry Samoa, which is a Girl Scout cookie.
I once went to Donut Friend while I was tripping on LSD and it was the funniest thing that’s ever happened to me. I think it might’ve been my birthday and I was coming down. I’m not a crazy person. I just couldn’t believe that there was another person standing there with all of the donuts in the world. It felt so overwhelmingly loving that they were like “Which donut can I give you?” I was just floored by the generosity. I was probably making an a— of my myself like laughing in that sort of hippie way. Not like a drunk way but like a benevolent alien who couldn’t believe that this planet had donuts. They gave me one and I wish I could’ve seen myself eating it. My wife was there. She doesn’t do psychedelics, so she was just watching me, sort of babysitting me, to be honest. While I’m eating the donut, she was just laughing so hard at just how happy I was. I wouldn’t do that on a normal Sunday. That’s a rare thing for me, but that’s a true Donut Friend story.
4 p.m.: Feel fancy at the Huntington
The greatest hack of parenting is the Huntington. Speaking of Phoebe Bridgers, she mentions in her track “Garden Song,” jumping over the fence [at the Huntington], which I always think is a cute detail. I think they filmed “Beverly Hills Ninja” at the Japanese Gardens there. One of my favorite L.A. things to do is the white glove tea service. It’s not that expensive and you just feel fancy. We’ll also stop at the Chinese [garden] and get noodles there because every step of the way there’s just constant eating.
7 p.m.: Vegan food done right
If it were just Valerie and I, I would want to go to Crossroads [Kitchen]. I love it to death. When the pandemic happened, they would text us and ask if we were OK and if we needed food. We were like “What do you got?” and the manager brought it over. If anyone’s wondering if that’s like a famous thing, I really don’t think so. I really just think they’re really about serving the community because I’m not famous like that [laughs]. We’ve been there enough, we’ve had enough conversations and it’s a real staple for us.
It’s a vegan restaurant and I’ve had meat-eating friends say that their carbonara is their favorite. It’s not like one of those vegan places that’s trying to trick you or deep-fry their way around things. They’re just actually making you eat really delicious things that just happen to be like artichokes. I’ve had so many birthdays there and you can tell this is where people who are looking for the best food in L.A. are going.
9 p.m.: Catch whatever is playing at Largo
My favorite thing that I get to do once a month is Largo at the Coronet. I literally once had a dream about a magical venue that feels safe and the crowd is always good and you just felt warm. Like if twinkle lights became a venue. That’s Largo. It’s the only place where if somebody’s visiting L.A., I would say just go to Largo. It doesn’t matter who’s performing. One night it might be me, the next night it might be Chris Fleming, and then it might be Sarah Silverman. Then it might be improvised Shakespeare, and then it might be a live podcast. It doesn’t matter. If Flanny [Mark Flanagan] booked it, it’s exceptional. He’s from Belfast and he’s sort of mythic.
11 p.m.: Eat at Norms
Norms is literally one block away from Largo, and if Val and I were really having a kid-free night, she, Flanny, and I would go there to eat our celebration. Judd Apatow does the show a lot and he loves food, so he’d be there too. You get a milkshake or you get some fries, but it’s open for 24 hours. I think L.A. gets a bad rep for not having diners. Granted in New York, they’re everywhere.
Midnight: Enjoy “blue couch time”
It doesn’t matter what time it is when we get home, we have to watch at least one episode of something. “30 Rock” or right now we’re watching “Black Rabbit,” but that’s not a good wind down show. Our couch is blue so we call it “blue couch time” and it’s a ritual we just don’t miss. It doesn’t even matter what we’re watching. We just want to be on that couch, even if it’s just for 12 minutes. I can’t go from the car to the bed. I want to go from the car to something else, then to bed. That’s why houses have entryways or a mud room. There’s supposed to be a threshold that you cross over, take off your coat and your shoes. You’re entering a new space. For us, it’s the blue couch.
She must have written that story before “Song Sung Blue” came out. Because Hugh Jackman passionately describing the greatness of Neil Diamond’s “Soolaimon” and then demonstrating that song’s grandeur by performing it in the new film “Song Sung Blue” is the definition of corny, feel-good comfort.
Which leads me to my question to you this day: Have you seen “Marty Supreme”? And what feelings — good, bad, uneasy, elated — did that movie arouse in you?
He summited the Sphere, exhorting us to “dream big.” He shot a rap music video to debunk the conspiracy theory that he is a popular British rapper. He has popped up at screenings flanked by bodyguards sporting giant orange ping-pong balls for heads.
Leading up to the Christmas Day premiere of his new movie, “Marty Supreme,” Timothée Chalamet was front and center in a promotional tour that was unhinged, delightful and, judging from the weekend’s box office, quite successful.
“Marty Supreme,” the wildly entertaining, over-caffeinated portrait of a single-minded ping-pong player, took in $27 million over the four-day Christmas weekend, the best opening in distributor A24’s history. The numbers surpassed the opening of “A Complete Unknown,” last year’s Chalamet Christmas release that featured the actor playing Bob Dylan in his formative years.
Not everyone was on board with “Marty.” Moviegoers gave the movie a B+ rating with market research company CinemaScore. That’s good, but not great. (“A Complete Unknown,” by comparison, earned an A.)
Podcaster Claira Curtis’ experience seeing the movie at the Grove feels like an accurate representation of the “Marty Supreme” adventure: “Packed ‘Marty Supreme theater had the full range of reactions. There were people walking out halfway through. There were people clapping. There was someone coming out of it saying, ‘Eh, it was fine’ & then their friend went, ‘Are you insane? It was peak!’”
The disparate responses reflect a couple of things.
One, not everyone embraces the Safdie brand of anxiety-inducing cinema. Josh Safdie directed “Marty.” His brother, Benny, made “The Smashing Machine,” released earlier this year. Together, they made “Uncut Gems” and “Good Time,” movies that, take your pick, were exhilarating or excruciating. Or both! (Exclamation point intended. These are exclamation-point films.)
And two, the title character in “Marty Supreme” is a lot — an undeniably talented, relentless self-promoter careening toward his goals of fame and fortune with little regard to the damage he is inflicting on others. He’s despicable, but also, as played by Chalamet, winningly charming. Unless you find Chalamet annoying. Then you’re probably best-served listening to Hugh Jackman sing Neil Diamond songs.
Chalamet has channeled Marty’s earnest energy in his promotional appearances for the film.
“This is a movie about sacrifice in pursuit of a dream,” he told Jimmy Fallon on “The Tonight Show.” “And it’s something I can relate to deeply. And we live in a bleak time, especially for young people, so this film is an attempted antidote to that.”
Chalamet then pivoted to the camera, the better to look into viewers’ eyes.
“And to continue to believe in yourself and to continue to dream big and to follow your dreams and not take no for an answer. That’s the spirit of ‘Marty Supreme,’ out on Christmas Day.”
Judging from the box office, Chalamet has pushed across the message. Will it work on awards voters, giving Chalamet the first Oscar of his career? As we head into the new year, the next phase of the “Marty” tour promises to be the season’s most interesting storyline. Gas up the blimp!
The most potent attack ad of Donald Trump’s comeback campaign seemingly ran on a loop during the final weeks before the 2024 election. Assailing rights for transgender people, its punch line indeed delivered a punch: “Kamala Harris is for they/them. President Trump is for you.”
2025: Promise broken. Back in office, the president has shown that the only pronouns he really recognizes are the first-person kind: me, myself and I.
A year into Trump 2.0, those self-regarding pronouns are now firmly affixed as the bywords of his presidency, on matters major and mundane. They might as well be mounted in gold in the Oval Office, in fonts so large as to not get lost amid all the bling he’s installed there. Asked in October just who was to be honored by Trump’s planned Arc de Triomph-like monument near Arlington Cemetery, the president was quick: “Me.”
To an extent that’s shocked even critics long convinced of his sociopathic narcissism, Trump has fashioned a government that’s of Trump, by Trump and for Trump. “I run the country and the world,” he boasted in April. Trump thinks “there’s nothing he can’t do. Nothing, zero, nothing,” his White House chief of staff, Susie Wiles, told Vanity Fair, as reported in twoarticles last month that signaled her own unease with Trump’s ongoing vengeance against his political enemies; his clemency for even the most violent rioters of Jan. 6, 2021; the pain of his erratic tariffs, too-cruel migrant roundups and tragic shutdown of USAID’s humanitarian aid; his stonewalling of the Jeffrey Epstein files that candidate Trump promised to release; and the foibles of his slavish Cabinet.
If Trump strutted as the center of the universe in 2025 — unchecked by advisors like Wiles or by a cowed Republican-controlled Congress, the Supreme Court and corporate chieftains — buckle up for 2026. It marks the 250th birthday of America’s independence, and our self-appointed master of ceremonies is focused on the festivities that he’ll star in not only on July 4th but all year long. One of his first acts as president was to create a White House task force with himself as chair, of course, to plan semiquincentennial events, ignoring an eight-year-old commission created by Congress for that purpose. Coming soon: A (possibly illegal) commemorative $1 coin with Trump’s image from the U.S. Mint.
Never mind that 2026 starts with a big spike in health insurance costs for tens of millions of Americans, including many Trump voters. The president who campaigned on bringing down the costs of living has stood in the way of a legislative remedy to the Dec. 31 expiration of healthcare premium subsidies, repeatedly mouthing his years-old promise that he’ll propose a cheaper alternative within weeks.
But here’s how 2026 will end: with midterm elections in November that loom as a referendum on whether the Trump Republican Party should keep control of Congress. The early betting is that no, it won’t. Especially after another year of Trump grandstanding, and his party’s genuflecting.
In good times, Trump’s garish self-regard might be tolerable to voters, even comical. But these aren’t good times, hardly the “golden age” Trump announced in his inaugural address last January — except for him and the wealthy hangers-on at his seemingly endless round of parties in the White House and at Mar-a-Lago. The Gatsby-themed Halloween party at Trump’s Florida resort was especially rich, pun intended, coming as it did hours before federal food aid for 42 million Americans expired amid a government shutdown he’d done nothing to avert.
Days later, voters gave a shellacking to Republicans in various states’ 2025 off-year elections, which is a good omen for the same result nationwide in 2026. There are other signs. On Tuesday, a new Gallup poll showed three out of four Americans were dissatisfied with “the way things are going in the United States.” Trump’s approval rating was just 36% in Gallup’s poll in early December, his lowest reading of the past year, and nearly equal to his all-time low after the Jan. 6 insurrection. Averages of various polls show Trump with negative ratings on his handling of immigration, the economy, trade and tariffs, and inflation — all issues that helped get him reelected.
But go ahead, Mr. President. Keep talking about how great you are. You’re a legend in your own time and mind.
Trump’s tone-deafness has become the great mystery of U.S. politics, for both parties, especially considering that he slammed President Biden for bragging about the economy’s post-pandemic recovery when Americans weren’t feeling it.
As Americans struggle to buy a home or to afford its upkeep, Trump has gilded the People’s House (see the New York Times’ recent 3-D recreation of the Oval Office for full, nauseating effect) and transformed the bathroom adjoining the Lincoln Bedroom in marble and gold. Having demolished the East Wing to make way for a gargantuan ballroom where Marie Antoinette would be at home, financed by favor-seeking billionaires and corporations, Trump told reporters on Tuesday that it would have to be bigger than he’d first planned because “we’re gonna do the inauguration” there.
What? The man who’s supposed to be leaving office on Jan. 20, 2029, is picking the new location for the next presidential inauguration? Hmmm.
Even before he’s been in office a year, Trump has put his brand on two Washington buildings, including the nation’s 60-year-old cultural center named by law as a memorial to an assassinated president. The Kennedy Center (no, I will not call it by Trump’s name) will have marble armrests; Trump took to social media on the day after Christmas to show off samples. Meanwhile, he’s refurbishing a royal jet from Qatar, a “palace in the sky.”
Trading on his power in unprecedented ways, Trump was a “crypto billionaire” by May, the Wall Street Journal reported, and in August the New Yorker estimated that he’d profited in office by at least $3.4 billion through crypto and licensing deals.
SAN ANTONIO — For a nine-win team such as USC, once again on the outside looking in at the College Football Playoff, the bowl season can feel a bit like purgatory. One foot in the past season, the other in the future, your team trapped somewhere in-between.
There were glimpses of each Tuesday night for USC in a brutal 30-27 overtime defeat to Texas Christian in the Alamo Bowl. There were equal reminders all night both of what could have been this season, had USC ever played at its best for long, and also flashes of why it never managed to be.
In one moment, there was freshman Tanook Hines, sprinting to catch a deep ball in stride, announcing himself as a rising star. In another, a TCU running back was busting his way through tackles on third-and-long, rumbling improbably into the end zone, deflating any such delusions of grandeur.
But after oscillating between those opposing poles, the final minutes against TCU took the Trojans on a tour of all their most glaring concerns from the 2025 season, from the leaky defense to the missed opportunities on offense.
Highlights from Texas Christian’s 30-27 overtime win over USC in the Alamo Bowl.
The Trojans saw a two-score lead evaporate in the final minutes of regulation. They got all the way to the five-yard line in overtime, only for the offense to stall and settle for a field goal. They even sacked TCU quarterback Ken Seals on second and 10, pushing the Horned Frogs out of field-goal range and forcing a third and 20.
All signs in that moment pointed toward the Trojans securing their 10th win, a feat they achieved only once over the past eight years. But then, against a three-man USC rush and with eight defenders in coverage, Seals checked down to running back Jeremy Payne in the flat.
“We did everything right defensively to put them in that position,” USC coach Lincoln Riley said.
Nothing, though, went right for USC after that. Payne broke through a tackle from cornerback Marcelles Williams. Two defenders, linebacker Jadyn Walker and safety Kennedy Urlacher, collided as they reached Payne next, missing him entirely. Then, he slipped through safety Christian Pierce’s hands and was suddenly sprinting free 35 yards for the win.
“Wasn’t a lot of time this year that we missed multiple tackles on a play,” Riley said. “It just happened in the worst time possible.”
That’s how most of the fourth quarter and overtime felt for USC, as TCU racked up 159 yards and 17 points over its final three drives.
Of course, there had been multiple chances before then for USC to put the game away, just like there were multiple chances for USC to make more of its 9-4 finish this season. The Trojans averaged nearly a full yard per play more than TCU. They racked up eight plays of 20 yards or more — a reminder of how explosive they could be.
In the red zone, though, the offense unraveled. Quarterback Jayden Maiava, who was inconsistent most of the night, threw a third-quarter interception in the end zone, just as USC looked primed to go on a roll.
Four other times, the Trojans stalled inside of TCU’s 25-yard line and settled for field goals as kicker Ryon Sayeri set the USC record for field goals in a season at 21.
“We just did not execute good enough in the red zone on either side of the ball,” Riley said. “If we did that, it’s probably a different feeling.”
Instead, the Trojans will have to carry this bitter taste into the offseason, with questions already looming about what comes next. Not the least of which being what direction USC will take its defense, after coordinator D’Anton Lynn departed for Penn State just before the game.
USC running back King Miller is stopped short by the Texas Christian defense in the first half during the Alamo Bowl on Tuesday night.
(Eric Gay / Associated Press)
Riley wouldn’t comment on why Lynn was replaced as playcaller the day of the bowl game. But when asked how he felt about the future of his defense, Riley projected a particularly sunny outlook.
“I feel fantastic,” he said. “But those who really study the game and watch how we’ve played and the way we’ve been able to improve, the arrow is just pointing straight up.”
Of all the questions raised Tuesday, how USC might replace its No. 1 wideout next season was not one of them. Hines had already done his part to earn that role, but declared it to the world anyway in a six-catch, 163-yard performance.
King Miller also continued to solidify his place in a tandem with Waymond Jordan in 2026, as he rushed for 99 yards and a touchdown, coming up just short of the 1,000-yard mark in a season he started as a walk-on.
USC coach Lincoln Riley, right, greets TCU coach Sonny Dykes after the Trojans’ overtime loss in the Alamo Bowl on Tuesday night.
(Kenneth Richmond / Getty Images)
But the silver linings largely stopped there, even if the circumstances made for an unusually uphill climb with USC’s roster. Over a dozen starters or would-be starters sat out. Three of the Trojans’ starting offensive linemen didn’t dress. Both of their top receivers and top tight end were in street clothes, having declared for the NFL draft. Twenty-five players listed in USC’s two-deep Tuesday were either freshmen or redshirt freshmen.
Without Lynn calling plays, which a source described as “a mutual agreement”, defensive line coach Eric Henderson stepped into the role.
It went quite smoothly at first. USC held TCU to two straight three-and-outs — and just 11 total yards in two drives — to open the game.
But on the ensuing possession, Maiava threw into heavy coverage and was intercepted, his first of two on the night. The momentum USC had built up early dissolved almost instantly.
The defense’s strong start faded into disarray. And while it came roaring back after halftime, forcing an interception and limiting TCU to just 35 yards in the third quarter, USC’s offense couldn’t fully capitalize. A one-handed touchdown pass to Jaden Richardson nearly did the trick, giving the Trojans a 21-14 lead that seemed primed to balloon from there.
But it never did. And in the final, stunned moments of its season, Riley was left offering the same assurances that USC will soon be out of purgatory.
“When you’ve been in those programs and been a part of those teams that have done those things, you feel what it’s like,” Riley said. “And this place is doing all the things that you need to do to put yourself in position to go bust that door down and do it.”
TCU players celebrate after beating USC in the Alamo Bowl on Tuesday night.
It’s the final days before the Alamo Bowl, the last gasps of USC’s football season, and Rock Hanson is still getting over a fever.
For USC offensive line coach Zach Hanson and his wife, Annie, who previously was Trojans recruiting director, the timing isn’t ideal to be tending to a sick 1-year-old. The Trojans are shorthanded in trying to finish out a 10-win season on Tuesday against Texas Christian. The transfer portal opens three days after that. And the coaching carousel is already in full swing, with one assistant already gone and Zach garnering outside interest, namely from his alma mater, Kansas State.
But they’ve been parenting long enough now to know not to stress over a fever. And they’ve been working in college football long enough to know the timing is never ideal. Their past decade together has been a testament to that. Last December, Rock was born on early-signing day, hours after Annie had wrapped up USC’s 2025 recruiting class. Two weeks after that, Zach was thrust into a new role as USC’s offensive line coach. They spent the bowl season in a Las Vegas hotel, walking the Strip with a three-week old, in a new-parent-induced delirium, their whole lives having suddenly turned upside down.
“It was a lot of learning on the fly,” Zach said. “We were figuring all of that out together.”
Rock Hanson, son of USC assistant coach Zach Hanson, wears a Trojans jersey while sitting on the team’s practice field.
(Courtesy of Hanson family)
There aren’t many in college football who have navigated all that the Hansons have during the past two seasons at USC. But their resilience has been the beating heart behind an unexpectedly strong season for a Trojans offensive line that overcame its own harrowing hurdles. Even as injuries forced USC to reshuffle the line on a near weekly basis, Zach still guided the group to its best season since 2022.
“To lose all that we lost, then to have all the reshuffling on the offensive line we had, normally that could almost be a death sentence for an offense,” coach Lincoln Riley said. “We’ve had some big challenges. We’ve been able to respond.”
That’s a credit not only to Zach, who has become one of the most critical assistants on USC’s coaching staff, but also to Annie, who has remained an essential part of the program, albeit now in a more unofficial capacity.
That they’ve proven so adept at navigating such adverse circumstances should come as no surprise considering the uphill climb they faced from the start of their relationship. When they first met on a blind date at an Eric Church concert in 2014, Annie worked at Oklahoma in the development office. Zach was a graduate assistant at Kansas State, a five-hour drive away in Manhattan, near where Annie grew up. They hit it off so well right away that both knew they had to make it work. A year in, just as Zach planned to propose, Annie got a job in Chapel Hill, N.C., leading the Tar Heels recruiting office.
For years, they toiled away, rising through the ranks, hoping their paths would converge. They never did for long. They spent the 2015 season apart, before Zach got the job as North Carolina’s special teams assistant coach in 2016. They spent a year together, then hired Annie was hired to run recruiting at Oklahoma in 2017. They spent another season apart, before Zach returned to Kansas State and that same five-hour drive into Oklahoma.
When Kansas State coach Bill Snyder retired, Zach joined Riley’s staff as a grad assistant in 2019, finally back at the same school as his wife. But in 2020, Tulsa offered him a job two hours away, coaching the offensive line. He took it. They bought a house. And Annie drove two hours every day, there and back, to work in Norman.
It felt, by then, like a blessing.
“You just find a way, right?” Annie says.
Zach dreamed one day of being a head football coach. Annie had gotten into college athletics to someday be an athletic director. At USC, they could pursue those paths for the first time together. Zach coached tight ends while Annie ran the recruiting office. For the first time, it felt like they might stay in the same place for a while. They decided to start a family.
Annie got pregnant in 2024. Then last September, just before the start of the football season, she started to experience serious pain in her leg. One doctor brushed it off. But eventually she went back to the hospital. Another doctor discovered a significant blood clot running from the middle of her calf, all the way up near her belly.
Emergency surgery was scheduled for the very next morning. Annie spent the next six weeks relegated to a wheelchair or a walker. With her husband in the throes of the football season, the Riley family insisted Annie live in the casita of their Palos Verdes home. So for six weeks, while she recovered, Riley’s wife, Caitlin, waited on her every need. “I mean, [she did] everything you could think of,” Annie says, still blown away by the kindness.
After all that, having a baby didn’t feel so daunting. Riley told her to take the time after Rock was born. She still worked from home, setting up recruiting visits for January. She didn’t want other women in the business to think you couldn’t have a baby and run recruiting for a major college football program. But one day, she came into USC’s football office and set Rock up in a pack-and-play in one room while she ran a staff meeting in another. As she spoke to her staff, Rock wailed silently on the baby monitor app on her phone. She couldn’t take it.
USC assistant coach Zach Hanson embraces his wife, Annie, and son, Rock, share a hug on the field at the Coliseum after a USC football game.
(Courtesy of Hanson family)
“I turned to my counterpart [current director of USC recruiting strategy] Skyler [Phan] and said, ‘Girl, it’s your turn. You’ve got it,’” Annie recalled.
She’d already told Riley she was thinking about stepping away. Actually doing so “was incredibly difficult” for Annie, Zach said.
She made it official in March; though, she maintains it’s just temporary.
“My time in college football is not over,” Annie says. “I truly believe whenever I do return, I’ll be a much better leader now that I’m a mom.”
Just as Annie stepped away, Zach set out to put his imprint on USC’s offensive line. Immediately upon taking over the group, he started switching up combinations, to ensure that each linemen learned multiple positions, never knowing which combinations he might need.
He’d also learned over the course of his career how critical chemistry could be up front. If it was off, it could sink the whole season. So he made a concerted effort from the start to bring the group together outside of football.
USC offensive line coach Zach Hanson; his wife, Annie; and son, Rock, join linemen and staff for a group photo in the Trojans’ locker room.
(Courtesy of Hanson family)
“One of the coaches I worked for several years ago told me, the players aren’t just going to come to you,” Zach said. “You’ve got to bring them in.”
So they hosted dinners at their house. Annie baked every lineman their favorite cake on their birthdays. They wanted the linemen to know that they cared about them as more than just football players.
“He’s a great coach,” guard Alani Noa said. “There’s nothing too personal. There’s nothing out of whack. Everything is open as far as conversations.”
They’ve even taken to holding Rock, who’s now already 33 pounds.
“It’s so important to Zach,” Annie says, “that those kids understand, like, ‘You can do this, and we believe in you, and we are going to prepare you to a point of trusting your training. So when you get out on that field, like there’s not even a question, you know, and I think that those guys very much played that way this year.”
USC was without stalwart left tackle, Elijah Paige, for half the season. Starting center, former walk-on Kilian O’Connor, played in eight games. And just two of its starting lineman — Tobias Raymond and Justin Tauanuu — started all 12 games heading into the Alamo Bowl.
USC offensive lineman Alani Noa (77), Amos Talalele (75) and Kilian O’Connor (67) warm up before facing Notre Dame at the Coliseum on Nov. 30.
(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)
“This is a position group where it’s not always the most talented guys you throw out there,” Zach said. “It’s the five guys who played best together.”
Zach managed to keep finding those five all season, keeping the front steady all season in spite of injuries. USC gave up just 15 sacks, fewer than all but 14 teams in college football. The line also cleared the way to average 5.29 yards per carry, the highest rushing clip at the school in over a decade.
Other schools are starting to notice. At Kansas State, his alma mater, Hanson’s name has been mentioned as a potential offensive coordinator under newly hired coach Collin Klein, who Hanson described to The Times as “one of my best friends” whose “family is like family to us”. Annie’s family also hails from just outside of Manhattan, Kan.
“That place is certainly a place that’s special to us,” Zach said of Kansas State.
But in the same breath, Zach says he’s “extremely happy [at USC] doing what we’re doing.” It’s not lost on the Hansons how much the Rileys have done for them.
In the coming days, those questions will surely come up again. But for now, the Hansons were more preoccupied with kicking a 1-year-old’s fever and preparing USC to play Texas Christian without three of its top seven linemen.
“Our philosophy has always been, as a family, we’re going to be all in no matter where we’re at,” Zach says.
At USC, that has certainly been the case. That includes Rock, who is a perfect 9-0 at USC games he’s attended heading into Tuesday’s Alamo Bowl — and can now say the word “ball.”
Whether he’ll get to build on that record beyond the bowl game remains to be seen. But there have been other options elsewhere before. Options closer to family, for childcare purposes.
But USC, Annie says, “has made our experience so incredible and worth the sacrifices.”
“We’ve chosen to stay because of how special this place is, you know?”
In an uneven year that saw two billion-dollar hits and a viral “chicken jockey” craze, but also a disastrous first quarter and a nearly 30-year-low at the October box office, the end of December was the last chance for theaters to make up ground.
But even James Cameron and the Na’vi — the latest “Avatar” film has already grossed more than $472 million globally — couldn’t save 2025 from a disappointing conclusion.
Box-office revenue in the U.S. and Canada is expected to total $8.87 billion for the year, up just 1.5% from last year’s disappointing $8.74 billion tally, according to movie data firm Comscore. More troubling is that 2025’s domestic box-office haul is projected to be down more than 20% compared with 2019, before the pandemic changed audiences’ movie-going habits and turbocharged streaming in ways that the exhibition industry is still grappling with.
The problem: Fewer people are buying movie tickets. Theatrical attendance is running below last year’s levels, with an estimated 760 million tickets sold as of Dec. 25, according to media and entertainment data firm EntTelligence. Last year, total ticket sales for 2024 exceeded 800 million.
Part of the explanation for the falloff in cinema revenue and admissions lies in the movies themselves.
Industry experts and theater owners say the quality and frequency of releases led to dips in the calendar that put extra pressure on the other movies to perform. Once-reliable genres such as comedies and dramas are facing a much tougher time in theaters, and female moviegoers — who came out in droves in 2023 for “Barbie” — were underserved in a year that largely skewed toward male-leaning blockbusters.
“It’s fair to say that 2025 didn’t quite reach the levels many of us expected at the start of the year,” Eduardo Acuna, chief executive of Regal Cineworld, said in a statement. “A big part of that comes down to a lack of depth in the release schedule, and the struggle of many smaller titles to break through.”
Even big-name stars such as Margot Robbie, Colin Farrell, Dwayne Johnson and Sydney Sweeney couldn’t prop up attendance for films such as Sony Pictures’ “A Big Bold Beautiful Journey,” A24’s “The Smashing Machine” and Black Bear Pictures’ “Christy,” all of which flopped.
And despite the critical acclaim and stacked cast list for Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another,” the film has stalled domestically at $71 million, with a global total of $205 million.
“One Battle After Another” had a budget of about $130 million, while “The Smashing Machine” reportedly cost $50 million and has grossed just $21 million worldwide.
“The challenge facing Hollywood is how to reconcile the budgets of these films with how much they can earn in theaters and down the road, eventually, in streaming,” said Paul Dergarabedian, head of marketplace trends at Comscore.
Universal Pictures’ “Wicked: For Good” hauled in more than $324 million, but it was one of few big blockbusters targeted to women. (Taylor Swift’s “The Official Release Party of a Showgirl,” which brought in $50 million globally, was another.)
Though the summer was marked by a number of big films, including Warner Bros.-owned DC Studios’ “Superman,” Universal’s “Jurassic World Rebirth” and Apple’s “F1 The Movie,” most were geared toward male audiences.
Female-focused films are “are few and far between,” said Jeff Bock, senior box-office analyst at Exhibitor Relations, an entertainment data and research firm. “There should be something for everyone playing most of the time, and that isn’t the case.”
To be sure, there were some bright spots for the industry, including success from young audiences.
Warner Bros. Pictures’ “A Minecraft Movie” was the highest-grossing domestic film this year, with $423.9 million. Close behind was Walt Disney Co.’s live-action adaptation “Lilo & Stitch,” which collected $423.8 million in the U.S. and Canada and a total of $1 billion worldwide.
Counting those two, five of the year’s top 10 domestic-grossing films had PG ratings, including “Wicked: For Good,” Disney’s animated “Zootopia 2” and Universal’s live-action “How to Train Your Dragon.”
“In general, the good news about the year is that most of the big hits involved young audiences,” said Tom Rothman, chair and CEO chief executive of Sony Pictures’ motion picture group. “There is a bit of a youth-quake.”
Disney capitalized on the big year for family-friendly fare.
The Burbank entertainment giant recently crossed $6 billion at the global box office for the year, powered by billion-dollar hits such as “Lilo & Stitch” and “Zootopia 2,” and marking the company’s biggest year since 2019. (Though it wasn’t all sunny for Disney this year, as Pixar’s original animated film “Elio” misfired, as did the live-action film, “Snow White,” which was mired in controversy.)
Another notable youth driver was “Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Infinity Castle” from Sony Pictures in partnership with its anime banner, Crunchyroll. The film had a massive opening weekend haul of $70 million in July on its way to a domestic gross of $134 million and a global total of $715 million, highlighting the increasing popularity of anime.
“The mainstreaming of anime at the theatrical box office is a really significant part of what happened this year and a really good sign,” Rothman said. “You’re bringing in young audiences.”
Not surprisingly, established intellectual property — whether video games, known franchises, novels or comic books — still topped the charts this year, with nine of the top 10 domestic films tied to an existing title.
That familiarity at the box office counts when moviegoers, particularly families, are looking for movies to watch. Viewers can be choosy about how they spend their cash and time, and may not always want to gamble on a movie they’ve never heard of.
“Meaningful IP still has an advantage in getting people to come to the theater, though it’s not the only way to do it,” said Adam Fogelson, chair of Lionsgate’s motion picture group, which saw success this year with an adaptation of Stephen King’s novel “The Long Walk,” as well as franchise film “Now You See Me: Now You Don’t.”
Horror flicks also scared up plenty of business in 2025. Warner Bros., in particular, had a string of wins in fearful films, including Ryan Coogler’s “Sinners,” “The Conjuring: Last Rites,” Zach Cregger’s “Weapons” and “Final Destination Bloodlines.”
In one notable exception, Blumhouse had a rare miss with “M3GAN 2.0,” the follow-up to the 2022 cult favorite. In an interview on “The Town” podcast, Blumhouse Productions Chief Executive Jason Blum blamed the sequel’s shortcomings on a change in genre from the original.
As 2025 draws to a close, industry insiders and theater owners are more optimistic about next year’s box office prospects.
Several big films are set to release in 2026, including Christopher Nolan’s much anticipated “The Odyssey,” Disney and Marvel Studios’ “Avengers: Doomsday,” Denis Villeneuve’s “Dune: Part Three,” as well as Disney and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5” and “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” from Universal, Nintendo and Illumination Entertainment.
That anticipation is also clouded by the uncertainty of the impending Warner Bros. deal and what that will mean for movie releases.
Many cinema owners fear that a takeover by Netflix will limit or eliminate the theatrical exclusivity of Warner Bros. films, though Netflix executives have said they will honor the company’s current and future commitments to the big screen. And if Paramount were to buy the company, theatrical exhibitors fear that the number of films would decrease, leaving them with less content to show. (Paramount CEO David Ellison has said the company did not plan to release fewer movies.)
Any deal is expected to take at least a year to complete.
In the meantime, Hollywood will wait to see how strong the 2026 slate truly is.
“There are a lot of great titles out there, and that’s why people have been calling 2026 a return to form,” said Bock of Exhibitor Relations. “Even though 2026 is very promising, can Hollywood keep delivering year-in and year-out?”
Alabama understands that stopping Indiana’s powerful offense in the Rose Bowl on New Year’s Day starts with containing Heisman Trophy-winning quarterback Fernando Mendoza.
“[Mendoza] is operating at a really high level,” Alabama defensive coordinator Kane Wommack said. “When you watch the tape and the challenge, really the cry for our guys [is] to have to operate at a really consistent level, and you’re going to have to take away those windows that he’s wanting to get the ball through.”
During top-seeded Indiana’s undefeated season, Mendoza threw for 2,980 yards and 33 touchdowns for a team that ranked eighth in total offense (472.8 yards per game). Despite his impressive numbers, ninth-seeded Alabama isn’t showing signs of being intimidated by Mendoza heading into the College Football Playoff quarterfinal showdown.
“He’s a man, just like me,” Alabama defensive lineman Tim Keenan III said. “He put himself in a position to achieve the accolades, so we need to make sure we do what we need to, to play our game.”
Added Alabama safety Keon Sabb: “Congrats to him for winning [the Heisman], but we’ll play our game.”
Alabama is planning to put pressure on Mendoza in an effort to force potential turnovers and limit Indiana’s attack, cornerback Zabien Brown said.
“I want to stop quarterbacks whether they’ve won the Heisman Trophy or not,” Wommack added.
Wow, 2025 — in the race to dismantle civilization, you certainly outdid yourself. And it took some brilliant stand-ups this year to take our problems big and small and turn them into jokes that reminded us that what we’re going through isn’t so bad or at least offer solace that things could always be worse. The best comedy specials even found a way to bring humanity together. From arena-level acts to L.A.’s favorite local comics, these were our favorite comedy specials from 2025.
Frankie Quinones at Super Chief Art Gallery in Los Angeles.
(Ethan Benavidez/For The Times)
Frankie Quiñones, “Damn, That’s Crazy” (Hulu)
In his Hulu debut “Damn That’s Crazy,” comedy sketchmaster Frankie Quiñones, who earned viral fame for his Cholofit character, does all the heavy lifting as himself. And at certain points, he definitely gets heavy. Directed by Ali Wong, the special takes viewers on a journey of relationship baggage, pandemic-related sex addictions and unresolved family trauma over sexual abuse he endured when he was a child. Yet still — there are plenty of laughs along the way. It’s the type of thing that people will certainly label as brave, but only because it succeeds without trying to be. (Nate Jackson)
It’s easy to be fooled into thinking Andrew Schulz is living his best life when he’s in the spotlight. But the stand-up comic and successful podcaster has been through his own share of problems too, like his and his wife’s efforts to have a baby. It was an ordeal that inspired a refreshingly honest core of his latest hour titled, simply, “Life,” which focused on struggles with conception, IVF and new fatherhood. Though 2025 was a year when his name was often linked to the manosphere led by Joe Rogan, Schulz’s special puts less effort into shock humor and any alt-right political agendas (though there is a touch of that here and there) as he leads with his personal story that shows a side to him as a parent that makes it not just funny, but also a compelling watch. (N.J.)
Our picks for this year’s best in arts and entertainment.
Sebastian Maniscalco, “It Ain’t Right” (Hulu)
In his seventh special, “It Ain’t Right,” Sebastian Maniscalco continues his streak as the Michael Jordan of disgruntled dad humor. As an arena-level act, the 51-year-old Chicago-bred comic still has the rubber-limbed athleticism and animated bravado that allows every one of his punchlines to be seen from space (or at least the cheap seats). But the over-the-top exaggeration he’s known for is always rooted in humility and shame — as with any good Italian. The infirmities of getting older are also a key source of laughter in this new hour, from the struggle of putting on socks, going to bed with sleep apnea or taking his family to the zoo. Like the title of the special, a lot of the stress Maniscalco continues to put up with as a superstar comic doesn’t seem right, but thankfully it’s still funny. (N.J.)
Bill Burr, “Drop Dead Years” (Hulu)
No one detonates a room with honesty and irritation quite like Bill Burr, and his latest, “Drop Dead Years,” shows the comedian in his fully evolved form. His rants remain forever epic as he talks about outlawing war, freedom of kids’ speech, social acceptance, (not) thinking positive and fake political empathy. He even turns inward, questioning his own need to be likable and empathetic. Burr may joke that he’s a broken man, but as fans would expect, he pieces it together beautifully in this special. (Ali Lerman)
Jordan Jensen, “Take Me With You” (Netflix)
Jordan Jensen’s comedy is hard to categorize, just like the rest of her. And while that’s generally how we like our funny people — layered, nuanced, tortured — it tends to wreak havoc on the actual lives of the comics themselves. Not quite fitting in a box (even though she definitely knows how to build one) has been Jensen’s shtick since birth. She grew up in upstate New York, raised in a heavy-construction family that included three lesbian moms and a dad who died when she was young. Because of that unconventional background, she says her level of hormone-fueled boy craziness mixed with her rugged ability to swing a hammer basically turned her into “a gay man.” Somewhere in her teens she entered a “fat mall goth” phase that she’s never left, even after becoming a popular comedian worthy of a Netflix special. Combining her inner Hot Topic teen with freak-flag feminism and alpha-male energy, her style makes not fitting in feel like one of the coolest things you can do — because it is. (N.J.)
Atsuko Okatsuka
(Mary Ellen Matthews / Disney)
Atsuko Okatsuka, “Father” (Hulu)
There were a lot of specials that came out this year, but only one featured a perfectly coiffed bowl haircut, because only Atsuko Okatsuka could pull it off. In her latest for Hulu, “Father,” Okatsuka makes a great case for codependency as she talks about living a tandem life with her husband Ryan, their choice not to have kids, the downside to having “a story,” and she also pulls back the pompoms on the dark side of cheerleading. Okatsuka’s movements are just as witty as her words, her energy is infectious, and “Father” is as refreshingly unpredictable as she is. (A.L.)
In the pantheon of stand-up comedy’s living legends, few names carry more weight than Fluffy‘s. In “Legend of Fluffy,” which premiered on Netflix in January, the comedian born Gabriel Iglesias takes fans through a giant retrospective of his career in comedy while zooming in on certain aspects of life: dating as a newly single man, trying to age gracefully, and a robbery that happened at his former home in Long Beach. It’s the type of special that is loud (just like his Hawaiian shirts) but also contains a positive message about refusing to give up on your dreams even in the face of obstacles, doubt or a near-death experience on a private jet. (N.J.)
Marc Maron, “Panicked” (HBO)
The L.A. comedy scene’s favorite curmudgeon is still finding the will to propel himself forward, hurtling over one existential crisis after another. Many of them come out in his latest HBO special, “Panicked,” where he zooms in on the indignities of not only growing old but finding ways to care for an aging dad whom he describes as “newly demented.” Between bits about being unlucky in love, we see flashes of pain held over from the death of his partner Lynn Shelton. But that vulnerability one might ordinarily save for therapy comes out in the form of genius, nonsensical segues to bits about rat poop under his house, Hitler’s fashion choices, the saving power of Taylor Swift and more from Maron’s endearing, hopelessly twisted psyche. (N.J.)
Nate Jackson
(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)
Nate Jackson, “Super Funny” (Netflix)
There’s a reason Nate Jackson’s debut Netflix special arrives during barbecue season. Perched on a stool under the spotlight at his shows, the comedian spends most of the evening delivering hospital-worthy third-degree burns to crowd members who want the smoke. Throughout his quick-witted hour of crowd work on “Super Funny,” Jackson finds a way to weave the stories of his random audience members together in a way that makes the whole show feel pre-planned. Meanwhile, even as Jackson is busy making fans the butt of his comedic freestyle, the person laughing the hardest in the crowd is usually the roastee. It’s the mark of good crowd work that’s not simply well done but, more important, done well. (N.J.)
Leanne Morgan, “Unspeakable Things” (Netflix)
Most comics are used to getting better with age but not necessarily bigger. Though she’s just turned 60 years old, one of comedian Leanne Morgan’s funniest jokes about herself is about just how big she’s gotten —not in terms of her career but her figure. It’s one of the first lines that escapes her mouth in her latest Netflix special, “Unspeakable Things.” But despite her jokes about not fitting into the typical Hollywood mold, it’s clear that Morgan’s life and career have certainly changed for the better since her hit 2023 Netflix debut, “I Am Every Woman.” As she grabbed the mic again for the streamer in 2025 — this time on a glitzy stage wearing a golden gown — her unvarnished style of storytelling shows us why she’s resonating with much of America. There’s just no substitute for a whip-smart Southern woman telling it like it is. (N.J.)
Iliza Shlesinger
(Marcus Ubungen / Los Angeles Times)
Iliza Shlesinger, “A Different Animal” (Prime Video)
Comedian Iliza Shlesinger takes the word “special” very seriously, and not just because she’s done a lot of them (seven). It’s because when she hits the stage, the goal is to leave a mark. In her latest, “A Different Animal,” Shlesinger dives into her evolution as a mother of two dealing with “mom brain” while proudly upholding her role as an elder millennial who can school Gen Z and Alpha newbies on what’s up with a mixture of wisdom, wit and wild animal noises. (N.J.)
Ralph Barbosa, “Planet Bosa” (Hulu)
Garnering nationwide buzz since his debut Netflix special “Cowabunga,” Ralph Barbosa has reached the top of his game in “Planet Bosa,” his latest hour on Hulu. Aside from getting more comfortable on stage, the 28-year-old exudes an energy in this new phase of his career that’s a welcome surprise from a guy whose packed schedule barely leaves time for sleep. The new special delves into his dating life, family woes as a young single dad and writing cleverly authentic jokes about the shocking ICE raids that have led to widespread detention and deportation of immigrants. (N.J.)
Jim Gaffigan, “Live From Old Forester” (YouTube)
Raise your glass to Jim Gaffigan for being THE pre-party for Thanksgiving with his latest offering, “Live From Old Forester: The Bourbon Set.” Dedicated to his love of the spirit, Gaffigan’s “passion project” is already at over 3 million views and is packed with bourbon history and facts, wacky bourbon names, and consumption stories that even someone who covets Fighting Cock over Blanton’s would connect with. And of course, between the mash bills and tasting notes, he still manages to slip in plenty of self-roasting. Gaffigan called this special “niche,” but the truth is, when he’s the symposiarch, “The Bourbon Set” is an oak barrel of straight-up laughs for the masses. (A.L.)
Steph Tolev
(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)
Steph Tolev, “Filth Queen” (Netflix)
Blunt, unapologetic, insanely funny and owning the crown of “Filth Queen,” Steph Tolev knocked it out of the smutty park with her first Netflix special. Produced by Bill Burr and filmed at the Paradise Rock Club in Boston, her show rips through bodily functions, dating gone wrong and, spoiler, the messy truths about women. Her energy is next level, her confidence is all I want for Christmas, and no matter your gender, or if you’re holding in gas or not, Tolev is giving everyone (except maybe your parents) permission to laugh at the good, the bad and the hairy. (A.L.)
Cristela Alonzo
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Cristela Alonzo, “Upper Classy”
In the third installment of the Texas comedian’s “Classy” trilogy (“Lower Classy” was in 2017, and “Middle Classy” in 2022), Alonzo definitely saved the most class for last. “Upper Classy,” her latest special, is by far her most vulnerable, which the comedian says is necessary, especially during this political moment when people like her are spoken about in the news, but not spoken to. She gives us her rags-to-riches story of growing up in an abandoned diner with her family, pairing that against her life now and enjoying the childhood she never had — and the ability to keep all her bills on autopay. After being taught to work hard in an immigrant household, Alonzo is learning how to live hard — and have fun — in her 40s (including taking swimming lessons). With her glow-up complete, Alonzo still makes it a point to rep her Mexican roots with pride. (N.J.)
Ali Siddiq, “Rugged” (YouTube)
Switching back and forth between high-energy and effortless cool, Ali Siddiq captivates as he shares (and acts out) insane family stories in “Rugged.” A master of storytelling, Siddiq talks about staying honest, teenagers and their antics, and getting mad about things that aren’t even happening, all while keeping each one of his bits hilarious to the end. Siddiq might not be the king in his own castle, but he’s certainly a king among comedians, and “Rugged” proved it this year. (Fun fact: Siddiq released two specials in 2025, the other being “My Two Sons,” which is equally as great and also on YouTube.) (A.L.)
Jim Norton, “Unconceivable” (YouTube)
Filmed at the Comedy Cellar in New York, Jim Norton’s newest hour, “Unconceivable,” explores everything from adjusting his life (and apartment) as a first-time husband to intimacy with his wife, Nikki, all while remaining brutally honest, dark and Norton to the core. Even listening to him explain the pressures and expectations that society places on strangers and their marriages — which should fully be serious — feels more like a comedy confessional rather than a set. He’s an industry veteran for good reason. His “Unconceivable” is as funny and as raw as it gets, proving once again that there’s no such thing as TMI when it’s delivered by the right comedian. (A.L.)
Jay Jurden, “Yes Ma’am” (Hulu)
In his first special, “Yes Ma’am, ”comedian and Mississippi native Jay Jurden burns verbal calories while showing the world why queer men from the South are often undefeated at being hilarious and relatable. Dependably lethal with his joke construction, Jurden’s every breath is laced with humor as he covers transphobia rules, emo rappers, traveling through blue dot cities, and fun stories with a dash of cuckoldry. His Southern background may have shaped his stories, but it’s Jurden’s hilarious and frank honesty that make “Yes Ma’am” a “hell yes, ma’am!” for 2025. And that million-dollar smile doesn’t hurt either. (A.L.)
Rosebud Baker
(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)
Rosebud Baker, “The Mother Lode” (Netflix)
Life-altering in the sincerest sense of the word, “The Mother Lode” comedically chronicles Rosebud Baker’s journey into motherhood, in real time. Skilled at mining laughs from life’s toughest situations and with her internal dumpster fire front and center, Baker goes from resisting parenthood to IVF, miscarriages, discussing parenting styles and questioning her own identity. Filmed and edited superbly with the same version of a joke, pre- and post-pregnancy, Baker truly did hit the mother lode giving birth to this special that now gets to live with its other mama, Netflix. (A.L.)
Ken Flores, “LOL Live With Ken Flores”
This year, the comedy world lost one of its biggest up-and-coming voices with the death of Ken Flores at age 28. Migrating from the Chicago stand-up scene to L.A., the loud comic made his presence known with raw, street-wise style, a diamond grill that made crowds smile before he even told a joke. Weight-related humor aside, Flores was undoubtedly one of the heavies in the local stand-up scene, and this half-hour comic assault is a time capsule of what could have been with this rising talent who left us too soon. (N.J.)
Bert Kreisher
(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)
Bert Kreischer, “Lucky” (Netflix)
Bert Kreischer resumes his shirtless razzle-dazzle and talent for hilarious, heartfelt storytelling in his special “Lucky,” inspired by his constant state of identifying the luck in his life. Most of that luck, let’s be honest, is actually the result of being married to his wife, LeAnn, who keeps him from going over the edge with his antics. If you’re into his brand of bare-chested misadventures, you will get plenty of that. But the heart of this latest hour doesn’t really show up until Kreischer’s moving tribute to his family’s dog, which will leave you laughing and crying right along with him. (N.J.)
Comedian CP, “Sunday After Six” (Veeps)
Chris Powell, a.k.a. Comedian CP, is a killer on the mic. Whether he’s hosting or headlining, comedy fans who’ve seen him perform know that his dragon-style delivery mixed with creative storytelling breathes fire onto any stage. His debut special, “Sunday After Six” puts all of his skills firmly on display in a way that will hopefully lead to our seeing more of him on the screen next year. (N.J.)
Trae Crowder, “Trash Daddy” (YouTube)
Don’t judge a comedian by his accent, especially if it’s Trae Crowder. Though the Tennessee-born comedian describes his voice as having more Southern twang than “a racist banjo,” it takes him less than two minutes onstage to show why he’s known as “the Liberal Redneck.” Whether it’s punchlines skewering white supremacists or viral video rants about the Trump era filmed from the front seat of his sun-damaged Jeep, Crowder’s brand of comedy is a mind-melting combination that never minces words about where he stands on major topics related to America. His latest special, “Trash Daddy” — released on YouTube via comedy platform 800 Pound Gorilla — swerves among jokes about politics, family and living life as a hick from the sticks while trying to raise California-bred children. (N.J.)
Phoebe Robinson, “I Don’t Want to Work Anymore” (YouTube) Phoebe Robinson’s new comedy special dismantles girl-boss culture, questioning whether financial independence and constant achievement actually lead to women’s happiness. “I Don’t Want to Work Anymore” tackles modern dating, aging and the exhausting pressure to constantly create content. The 41-year-old comedian now prioritizes rest, boundaries and authentic work over relentless productivity and the need for external validation. (N.J.)
Tim Dillon, “I’m Your Mother” (Netflix)
Taped at the Comedy Mothership in Austin, Texas, “I’m Your Mother” is Tim Dillon doing what he does best, showering us with the confidence of a man who’s absolutely done pretending things make sense. From America’s never-ending identity crisis and celebrity worship to his own royal worship and to what parenting seems like from his view, he breaks down the world’s nonsense with the energy of someone who’s seen some s— and isn’t impressed. “I’m Your Mother” isn’t guidance, it’s a verbal smackdown wrapped in laughter that’s unremorseful and so well written, Tim Dillon is now our mother. (A.L.)
Kathleen Madigan, “The Family Thread” (Prime Video)
Kathleen Madigan’s “The Family Thread” gifts us an hour built on the everyday chaos and wry Midwestern sensibility that define her comedy. From absurd family group texts to aging parents and small-town quirks that feel instantly recognizable, she never fails to turn the frustrations of life into sarcastically sharp punchlines. “The Family Thread” is a master class on why Madigan has kept people entertained for years with nothing more than honesty and outstanding storytelling. (A.L.)
Mike Vecchione, “Low Income White” (YouTube)
Making a second special funnier than the first is effortless for Mike Vecchione, and “Low Income White” serves as an even sharper follow-up to his debut special, “The Attractives,” both produced by Nate Bargatze. Vecchione’s deadpan style and constant misdirection are on full display as he talks about age gaps, magic doctors and the reality of marital vows, piling on joke after sarcastic joke. (A.L.)
Ian Edwards, “Untitled” (YouTube)
Ian Edwards fires off rapid-paced jokes throughout his latest special, “Untitled.” At the Comedy Store in La Jolla, Edwards’ comfort onstage (in a onesie, no less) is in plain view as he riffs on relationships, confusing albinos, problematic travel, rooting for the wrong side of current events, and the many layers of racism in green-bubble texts. “Untitled” is a straight shot into the mind of Ian Edwards, and if you’ve slept on this special, there’s still time to fix that. (A.L.)
Ryan Sickler, “Live & Alive” (YouTube)
Ryan Sickler turned thick blood into sweet wine this year with his new special “Live & Alive.” His trademark candor (and giggle) drives the hour as he plays tour guide through a traumatic hospital stay that nearly became his last — plenty of morbid humor to go around in this hour. His survival is his own setup and punchline as he pulls you into embarrassing bits at his own expense. And every twist and ridiculous turn leaves you grateful he’s still around to tell the story while being “Live & Alive.” (A.L.)
Chinedu Unaka, “LOL Live With Chinedu Unaka” (Hulu)
For over a decade, L.A.-bred comedian Chinedu Unaka’s passion-driven work as a special education teacher would become the day job that both funded his dream and gave him the tools to achieve it as he held the attention of kids with ADHD while making them learn while laughing. Coming at comedy from the lens of a charismatic instructor with a Nigerian American background, Unaka’s quick wit and dry humor about life, relationships and his immigrant parents are on full display in his latest special. (N.J.)
Cameron Esposito
(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)
Cameron Esposito, “4 Pills” (DropOut)
A lot of comedy specials are made for us to sit and laugh at a comedian’s funny thoughts. In her latest special, Cameron Esposito wants to take things a step further by giving you a look inside her brain. As a person diagnosed with bipolar disorder at age 40, her mind offers a lot to unpack. But the goal remains the same as any special: to laugh at something we feel like we’re not supposed to, only to realize we can relate to a person’s struggles more than we think. In her latest hour, “Four Pills,” Esposito has honed a fresh perspective on living with bipolar disorder that forced her to take her 20 years of stand-up to the next level by bringing fans into the deepest part of her world for the first time. (N.J.)
Samantha Hale, “Horror Nerd” (Apple TV/ Prime Video)
Only Samantha Hale, raised in Los Angeles on “Top Ramen and fear,” could make hair-raising terror this funny. Her long-running show, “Horror Nerd,” jumps from the Hollywood Improv stage to the screen as she nostalgically riffs on serial killers, the healing power of stabby movies, and turns genre obsessions, cult-classic fandom and online feedback into an unbroken chain of laugh-out-loud brilliance. No topic is too strange or scary as she turns her passions and life’s oddities into “Horror Nerd,” a must-watch for anyone who loves humor one (bloody) bite at a time. (A.L.)
Jiaoying Summers, “What Specie Are You?” (Hulu)
Jiaoying Summers is a single mom and a comedian, and somehow she killed it in her first stand-up hour, “What Specie Are You?” on Hulu. Summers swings from dating after divorce and discovering her identity as an immigrant, to choosing favorites between her kids and breaking down an “Asian hate system” that’s so deadpan it almost feels reasonable. Blaming her lack of a filter on her Chinese upbringing, she will have you dying laughing one minute and feeling personally attacked the next. And that works. (A.L.)
Tony Hawk, the skateboarding legend synonymous with daring tricks and modern skate culture, over the weekend faced an experience “WAY outside” his comfort zone: performing in a ballet.
The San Diego native and “Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater” namesake, 57, made his ballet debut Saturday skating on stage for Golden State Ballet’s production of “The Nutcracker.” During the one-of-a-kind showing at San Diego’s Civic Theatre, Hawk appeared in multiple scenes of the beloved holiday ballet, entertaining audiences with tricks while in costume.
“Sometimes you just have to say yes to things WAY outside your comfort zone, especially when your daughter thinks [it’s] funny,” he wrote Sunday in an Instagram post.
Golden State Ballet teased Hawk’s “Nutcracker” cameo on social media earlier this month, announcing, “he’s trying something completely new.”
“He’s supporting San Diego arts,” the original post read. “He’s making his daughter proud.”
“The Nutcracker” is a two-act ballet that follows a girl named Clara who receives a nutcracker doll for Christmas. When the toy magically comes to life, he defends Clara from the Mouse King and takes her on the journey of her dreams through the colorful land of sweets, where the Sugar Plum Fairy rules.
So how exactly does a pro skater fit in?
Hawk posted several photos and videos from his performance, including footage of his first cameo during the ballet’s opening number. The sports icon, donning a scarf and newsboy hat, disrupts the snowy scene outside of Clara’s home. He skates across the stage balancing on his board with both hands in the air as a police officer runs after him.
In the ballet’s second act, Hawk was not the only skater to take the stage. During the crowd-pleaser trepak, or Russian dance, Hawk and young skater Katelyn West joined a trio of dancers, launching themselves into the air off a quarter pipe. Like the dancers, both Hawk and West wore Russian-inspired fur hats, tunics and baggy red pants. The audience erupted in raucous applause.
Finally, Hawk and West rolled on stage for the show’s curtain call. Not too shabby, skater boy.
Perry Bamonte, guitarist and keyboardist for the Cure, has died. He was 65.
The band announced on its website on Dec. 26 that Bamonte died “after a short illness at home over Christmas.”
“Quiet, intense, intuitive constant and hugely creative, ‘Teddy’ was a warm hearted and vital part of the Cure story,” the band said.
The London-born Bamonte began touring with the Cure as a guitar tech and assistant in 1984, then joined the band full-time in 1990. He performed over 400 shows with the group and recorded on the albums “Wish,” “Wild Mood Swings,” “Bloodflowers,” “Acoustic Hits” and “The Cure.”
Bamonte parted ways with the Cure after 14 years, later performing with the group Love Amongst Ruin. He returned to the Cure in 2022 for “another 90 shows, some of the best in the band’s history,” the group said, including the Nov. 1, 2024, London show documented on the concert film “The Show of a Lost World.”
As a member of the Cure, Bamonte was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2019. The band is still scheduled for a run of European festivals and headline shows in 2026.
“Our thoughts and condolences are with all his family,” the group said. “He will be missed.”
Has there been a year this decade when we’ve been sad to see it go?
I thought about that while reading our “25 ways to banish this no good, very bad year” list, which contains some terrific ideas, and I’d be very happy to watch you jump into the Pacific on New Year’s Day, if you feel so inclined. But they’re all predicated on the idea that this year has given off a stench that needs to be smothered, the same way you’d cleanse your dog in tomato juice after an encounter with a skunk.
And this is true. Even Game 7 of the World Series can’t erase the heartache that 2025 has inflicted upon us, though props to Kiké Hernández for doing his best to distract from the headlines.
I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter, wishing you and yours a better new year. It’s a low bar. I’m optimistic we can jump it.
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Did anyone really want to see a third “Avatar” movie?
Sure, someone must have. It sold $89 million in tickets last weekend, though that number fell short of analysts’ forecast for James Cameron’s three-hour movie. For comparison, 2022’s “Avatar: The Way of Water” brought in $134 million in its opening weekend. That movie, like the series’ 2009 first film, built its $2-billion-plus box office over time.
“Avatar: Fire and Ash” may well do the same.
Still, doesn’t it feel like there should be more excitement to go see a movie that might gross $2 billion worldwide? Maybe you were among the first in line to see it last Friday. No judgment. I’ve seen every Cameron movie in a theater, a streak I suspect will continue as long as he’s making films.
The thing is, Cameron himself is giving the distinct impression that he’s ready to move on from “Avatar,” even though he has already written scripts for the fourth and fifth entries in the franchise. He has other projects in the works, adapting “Ghosts of Hiroshima,” which revolves around the true story of the only survivor of both atomic bombs dropped on Japan. And he has teased a “Terminator” reboot.
Cameron is 71, a kid compared to Ridley Scott (88) and Martin Scorsese (83), but still … the clock is ticking.
Do you want him devote another three years (or more) to the lush, gorgeous world of Pandora?
Maybe if “Avatar: Fire and Ash” had spent less time repeating the same themes — and, sometimes, the same scenes — almost beat for beat from the “The Way of Water,” I’d feel differently. The new movie is, of course, a visual feast, though with just three years between the second and third films, the technological advances don’t feel as awe-inspiring this time around. Cameron remains adept at world-building and creating tense action set pieces. He’s also unrivaled at serving up lumpy dialogue, and the new film has serious pacing issues. “Fire and Ash” feels every bit like a 197-minute movie.
When I did my last set of Oscar best picture power rankings on Nov. 3, I put “Fire and Ash” at No. 10, sight unseen. This was in part because Cameron is Cameron and deserves respect and also because would-be contenders like “A House of Dynamite,” “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere,” “The Smashing Machine” and “After the Hunt” weren’t connecting with voters.
But the franchise fatigue with “Avatar” feels real. It’ll still probably win the visual effects Oscar and pick up a nomination for sound. But I suspect it’s going to fall just outside the 10 movies nominated for best picture.
If that happens, will anyone cry “snub”? Likely not. “Avatar: Fire and Ash” can still inspire wonder, but for the first time in his career, Cameron is spinning his wheels. It feels like he’s ready to return to Earth.
To rebel is to defy. It is to understand that the world as it is can and should be better.
So it’s no surprise rebels were everywhere on our movie screens in 2025. Filmmakers in the U.S. and abroad depicted the lengths to which people will go to stand up against the bland (and at times violent) vision of conformity they see around them. It’s a theme that comes through most organically in these films’ costume designs.
In “Wicked: For Good,” for instance, Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba Thropp stands apart from the glossy superficiality of the Emerald City. Paul Tazewell, an Oscar winner earlier this year for the first “Wicked,” once again wrapped Elphaba’s defiant spirit in the very fabric of her costumes. As she fights for animal rights and defies the authority of that fraud of a Wizard, the titular witch dons dresses and capes (and, yes, even a knitted cardigan that had the internet abuzz) that ground her in that land “made of dirt and rock and loam” she sings about.
Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba in “Wicked: For Good.”
(Giles Keyte / Universal Pictures)
Not that all rebels choose to stand out. In Paul Thomas Anderson’s politically urgent thriller “One Battle After Another” — costumed by four-time Oscar winner Colleen Atwood — members of the French 75 revolutionary group know better than to draw attention to themselves.
“Take Deandra [played by Regina Hall], for instance, who’s always lived off the grid,” Atwood tells The Envelope. “They have lives, but they are still somewhere on the wanted list, and some weirdo can suddenly know who they are. So they really have to blend in. They have to be not noticeable. That was a big goal with everybody’s costume in the movie, all the French 75 costumes — and Leo as well.”
That’s why DiCaprio spends much of the film in a red bathrobe, making him both incredibly hard to miss and also decidedly ordinary-looking. “Would you wear it the whole time?” Atwood remembers asking herself: “Would he get rid of it? And Paul goes, ‘Why would you take off your clothes if you’re running?’”
Leonardo DiCaprio, left, and Benicio Del Toro in “One Battle After Another.”
(Warner Bros. Pictures)
Atwood’s choice to put Benicio Del Toro in a gi and a turtleneck was similarly driven by this approach: These are all people who move through the world wanting to disrupt the system without making such disruption all that conspicuous. Here we may also add the off-the-rack suits Teddy and Don (Jesse Plemons and Aiden Delbis) wear in “Bugonia” to face their kidnapped CEO; the beret-and-turtleneck-wearing revolutionary (Richard Ayoade) in “The Phoenician Scheme”; and the stylish, delightfully unbuttoned shirts Wagner Moura wears throughout “The Secret Agent.”
Not all instances of rebellion are so obviously political. Take Harry Lighton’s deliciously kinky dom-com “Pillion,” which finds shy young Colin (Harry Melling) entering into a BDSM relationship with an enigmatic biker called Ray (Alexander Skarsgård).
“Ray’s an anomaly; he’s the rebel, you can’t place him,” costume designer Grace Snell says. When we first meet him, he is wearing a striking white leather biking outfit: “I wanted him to be like a light at night on this bike and a shiny toy for Colin.”
Harry Melling, left, and Alexander Skarsgård in “Pillion.”
(Festival de Cannes)
The leather and kink gear that Skarsgård, Melling and the rest of the “Pillion” cast wear allowed Snell to give audiences the Tom of Finland fantasy Lighton’s film clearly demands. Yet the film is about a quieter rebellion.
“Colin’s kind of testing his boundaries and understanding who he is as a gay man, and exploring what that means for him,” Snell says. It’s why he spends much of the film in uniform, as a traffic warden, as a member of a barbershop quartet, and later as the new member of Ray’s biker gang.
“Pillion” is about self-fashioning at its most elemental: how gear and uniforms, roles and positions, can help you bloom into yourself; how in losing yourself in another you can find who you want to be.
Blending such a lesson in ways political and personal is Bill Condon’s “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” also costumed by Atwood. The musical is framed by the tension between Valentin (Diego Luna), a righteous revolutionary, and Molina (Tonatiuh), a gay hairdresser, who share a prison cell under Argentina’s military regime.
Diego Luna and Jennifer Lopez in “Kiss of the Spider Woman.”
(Roadside Attractions)
Along with designer Christine L. Cantella, Atwood aimed to honor the history the film was depicting and the message it embodies. “Not only is it set in a revolutionary time, but it’s also about two people opening each other’s eyes to the world,” Atwood says, “in a way that is such a great message for today.”
Atwood and Cantella had to balance the dingy reality of the prison — where Molina finds modest beauty in his silk robes — and the movie musical he loses himself in — where Jennifer Lopez’s Aurora is dressed like a silver-screen siren throughout. Lopez’s big number, where she dons an ode to the all-white ensemble Chita Rivera wore in the original Broadway show, including a fedora to match, is all about the lure of escapist Hollywood fantasy: “Turn off the lights and turn on your mind,” she sings.
As the ending of the musical attests, there may be a way to do both, to be politically engaged and still enjoy the beauty of the world around you. For, as these varied films attest, a rebel doesn’t just voice their discontent at the status quo. They wear it proudly.
This article contains spoilers for the Season 1 finale of Apple TV’s “Pluribus.”
Fellow misanthropes, Season 1 of “Pluribus” is done. Now what do we do, other than lean into our usual harsh judgment and mistrust of others?
Our spirit series left us wondering who or what will put the final nail in humanity’s collective coffin: an alien virus or a malcontent with an atomic bomb. As for saving everyone? Cranky protagonist Carol Sturka (Rhea Seehorn) struggled to find ways to preserve the human race for much of the series, but by the finale, she was fairly convinced that the planet would be better off without us.
For those of you who haven’t kept up with the best show on television this year, Carol’s among 13 people left on Earth who are immune to an alien virus that’s otherwise fused all of humanity’s consciousness together into one blissful hive mind. Now everyone thinks alike and has the same knowledge base, which means TGI Fridays waiters can pilot passenger planes and children can perform surgeries. No one is an individual anymore. They simply occupy the body formerly known as Tom or Sally or whomever. “Us” is their chosen pronoun.
This army of smiling, empty vessels just wants to please Carol — until they can turn her into one of them. Joining them will make her happy, she’s told. It’s a beautiful thing, having your mind wiped. But the terminally dissatisfied Carol would rather stew in her own low-grade depression and angst that forfeit her free will. Plus, her ire and rage is kryptonite against those who’ve been “joined.” When confronted with her anger, they physically seize up and stop functioning. Their paralyzing fear of Carol’s ire is empowering, pathetic and hilarious. The world literally comes to a standstill when she snaps. No wonder she’s my hero.
“Pluribus” comes from Vince Gilligan, the same brilliant mind behind “Breaking Bad” and “Better Call Saul.” The Apple TV series is nothing like his previous successes except that it’s set in Albuquerque, stars Seehorn and is singularly brilliant. And like those other seminal dramas, it plumbs deeper questions about how we see ourselves, who we really are and who we strive to be.
To be fair, Carol was irritated by the human race long before the alien virus converted them into worker bees. She was convinced most people were sheep — including those who loved the flowery writing and cheesy romance plots of her novels. But the the total loss of a free-thinking community isn’t all that satisfying, either.
In the finale, she connects with Manousos Oviedo (Carlos-Manuel Vesga), a fellow survivor who’s also immune to the virus. He wants nothing to do with the afflicted, no matter how peace-loving they appear. In the before times, it appears he was a self-sufficient loner. Postapocalypse, he travels all the way from Paraguay to meet Carol after he receives a video message from her. He drives most of the way before arriving at the treacherous Darién Gap, where he’s sidelined after falling into a thorny tree — but “they” save him, much to his chagrin. He eventually continues the journey, via ambulance.
Now saving the human race is up to two people who never had much love for it in the first place. They converse through a language translation app, which makes their arduous task all the more complicated — and hilarious.
Multiple theories have sprung up around what “Pluribus” is really about. One prevailing thought is that “the joining” is a metaphor for AI creating a world where all individual thought and creativity are synthesized into a single, amenable voice. Surrender your critical thinking for easy answers, or in the case of “Pluribus,” an easy life where you’ll never have to make a decision on your own again. Most humans would rather be a doormat than a battering ram, regardless of the urgency or circumstance.
Optimists might say, “Why pick one extreme or the other? There’s surely a place in the middle, where we can all live in harmony while holding onto our opinions and sense of self.” That’s sweet. Carol and I heartily disagree given the arc of history and all.
Just how my favorite new antihero will deal with her disdain for the Others is yet to be seen. Save the world or destroy it? We’ll all have to wait until next season to find out. Until then, “Pluribus” just needs some space.