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A huge, waning moon glimmered over Los Angeles on election night, a metaphor for a trend that emerged in early returns.

The city’s political establishment seemed to be on the retreat in favor of populist insurgents from both the left and the right.

Mayor Karen Bass held a cushy lead in her bid for a second term, and the Associated Press declared that she had made it into the November runoff election. But the underwhelming amount of support she got thus far showed that many voters in a super-blue city didn’t have enough confidence in a Democratic stalwart to return her to office. Instead, many chose self-proclaimed upstarts from opposite ends of the political spectrum: Republican reality TV star Spencer Pratt and democratic socialist City Councilmember Nithya Raman.

Raman launched her campaign at the last moment, just weeks after endorsing her longtime ally Bass, figuring that enough Angelenos were tired of the incumbent and would join her message of change from inside City Hall.

Raman’s instincts were half right. Voters did want change. But they didn’t view her as a challenge to the status quo — to many, she is the status quo.

The mayoral hopeful didn’t articulate a platform that radically departed from Bass’, and voter antipathy to her muddled messaging showed: she ended the night in third place. If the current results hold, Bass would face Pratt in the runoff.

At Raman’s election-night party at Boomtown Brewery on the outskirts of Little Tokyo, I saw why her chances of becoming L.A.’s next mayor were slim from the start. The gathering felt like happy hour at a Silver Lake bar: far whiter than the city overall, with few Latinos. Her address to a packed house was a grab bag of platitudes mixed with a broadside against MAGA, which is a political nothing in L.A. politics. It was an uninspiring cri de coeur and reflective of a campaign that wasn’t apocalyptic enough for those, such as Pratt’s people, who want radical change, while offering nothing new for Bass supporters.

Yet Raman still insisted she had unlocked something transformative.

“Together, we built something extraordinary,” she said to cheers. “And it gives me so much inspiration to be a part of it, a movement powered not by cynicism or political insiders, but by ordinary people who still believe Los Angeles is worth fighting for.”

Raman then went on the dance floor to greet well-wishers, pumping her fist while a DJ blasted Daft Punk’s “Lose Yourself to Dance.”

A billboard for L.A. mayoral candidate Spencer Pratt near MacArthur Park on June 2, 2026.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

Across town in West Los Angeles, Pratt reveled in his second-place position, enjoying a Mexican dinner with friends and family. It was a peaceful conclusion to a spring of fulminations against Bass (“Karen Basura”), nonprofits, homeless people (“zombies”) and anything that reeked of Democratic pieties, even as the Republican swore he was campaigning for all ideologies in a nonpartisan race.

Long dismissed as a has-been joke, Pratt correctly judged that Angelenos are angry and don’t want to be polite about it anymore. He and his supporters will take his unlikely rise as a mandate to double down against liberal L.A.

But if Pratt, who lost his house in the Palisades fire, does move on to the general election and is serious about winning, he needs to learn from the political revolution successfully pursued by his polar opposites, the local chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America.

Six years ago this spring, L.A.’s political establishment wrote off DSA-LA as wokoso upstarts in their long-shot quest to get a political novice named Nithya Raman elected to the city council. Even as Raman and three other DSA members joined the council, skeptics dismissed them and their progressive policies as anomalies that didn’t reflect how Angelenos actually wanted the city to work.

Tuesday night, four of the six DSA-endorsed candidates in L.A. city elections were in first place by large margins and another was comfortably in second, reflecting DSA’s multicultural, citywide reach. In a telling sign of its newfound king-making status, the local chapter declined to endorse Raman or any other mayoral candidate. Without that powerful backing, their trailblazer, along with DSA member Rae Huang, withered on their L.A. revolutionary vine.

Councilmember Hugo Soto-Martínez and L.A. Unified school board member Rocío Rivas looked to be coasting to outright victories. Marissa Roy was on her way to a runoff that would exclude the incumbent city attorney, Hydee Feldstein Soto, who was a distant third in the early returns. In District 9, where Curren Price is terming out, Estuardo Mazariegos stood comfortably in second place and looked to headed to a runoff against a fellow Latino candidate in a race that will see South Los Angeles elect its first non-Black council member in 63 years.

The most surprising outcome involved Councilmember Eunisses Hernandez, who became a punching bag, along with Bass, for people who thought L.A. had transformed into a hellhole. So-called dark money groups, which don’t have to reveal where their funding comes from, poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into negative mailers. Opponents vying for her seat cast federal raids against drug dealers and gangs in the MacArthur Park area as an indictment of her leadership, berating her during debates and on social media.

Even Hernandez’s supporters were fretting about what might happen on election night. But by the time I arrived at her raucous soirée in Highland Park, early returns showed her way ahead of the field and perhaps avoiding a runoff.

“It’s reassuring to see [DSA’s success],” she said as jubilant supporters lined up beside her to get tattoos — real ink, not temporary — of hummingbirds, her campaign’s logo. “That means people see us. That means people want more.”

Hernandez pointed to her fellow DSA member, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani.

“What happened with DSA over there didn’t happen overnight,” she said. “In L.A., we’re getting there.”

A table filled with campaign buttons for Council Memer Hugo Soto-Martinez, who ran for reelection this year and is expected to win outright.

(Jason Armond/Los Angeles Times)

L.A. hasn’t suddenly become a land of Trumpers and closet commies, of course. Two incumbent council members who are centrist Democrats are also on their way to easy victories, while Councilmember Monica Rodriguez walked into a third term because no one ran against her. Centrists Timothy Gaspar and Barri Worth Girvan have a huge lead over their rivals for the San Fernando Valley council seat that Bob Blumenfield is leaving due to term limits.

But anyone who wants to win in Los Angeles needs to realize that antiestablishment sentiment is in the air.

At the same time, I would remind the victorious populists to look up in the sky and remember their Shakespeare.

“O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon / That monthly changes in her circle orb / Lest that thy love prove likewise variable,” Juliet warned Romeo.

Politics, like la luna, waxes and wanes whether we like it or not, and anyone who bets on a permanent transformation at City Hall will probably lose.

Angelenos have declared that they want dramatic change. But how will they feel in November?

WASHINGTON — When nearly all the scheduled musical performers pulled out of a concert series marking America’s 250th anniversary — fearing the event had become too closely tied to President Trump — he responded by making it official.

Trump announced he’d now be the headlining act of the Great American State Fair.

That put to rest any possible scenario where a president who has built his personal and political persona on seizing the spotlight might cede the stage to avoid overshadowing a national celebration bigger than himself. It also offered a peek into how the president is likely to approach hosting the upcoming World Cup.

From his reality shows before becoming a politician, to hours spent entertaining at events in ways planned and impromptu, to proudly showing off his various properties and efforts to overhaul the White House, the president relishes hosting. Last year he even jokingly mused about leaving the presidency to do it again full time on TV.

Trump can be a gracious, personable and highly watchable master of ceremonies — but he’s also one who tends to make every event about himself.

“The president has an outsized personality,” said Timothy Naftali, former director of Richard Nixon’s presidential library and professor at Columbia University’s School of International and Public Affairs. “There’s a predictability to the way in which the president frames his actions — or any actions around any event associated with him — and that’s just part of who he is, and his makeup and his professional background.”

Exhibit A is the fair, which begins June 25 and was supposed to feature concerts but now will be kicked off by a Trump rally. That will follow a UFC bout at the White House on June 14. Trump is a longtime cage match fan and the event marks his 80th birthday, but the president has sought to bill it as part of the anniversary festivities.

Many presidents relished hosting — but not like this

Andrew Jackson threw open the White House for an 1829 Inauguration Day bash so unruly that staff eventually dispersed the crowd by moving tubs of whiskey and ice cream to the lawn. Franklin D. Roosevelt mixed pre-dinner cocktails for friends and aides at White House gatherings he playfully dubbed “The Children’s Hour.” Audrey Hepburn was among the luminaries Ronald Reagan hosted at the White House.

Trump frequently had first-term dinners with business leaders but has more fully embraced the role since returning to the White House. He built a patio area similar to one at his Mar-a-Lago estate and frequently travels to Florida and his properties in Bedminster, New Jersey, and Sterling, Virginia, to headline fundraisers and other swanky gatherings.

Asked if Trump might overshadow events meant to bring the country and the world together, White House spokesman Davis Ingle pointed to the president’s efforts to lead extensive renovations at the White House and around Washington. He said in a statement that the “historic beautification” gives the city “the glory it deserves during our nation’s historic semiquincentennial celebration — something everyone should celebrate.”

Still, Trump has found unprecedented ways to inject himself into the anniversary.

The State Department is issuing passports with the president’s picture and officials have designed a new $250 bill with his likeness. The Trump Organization, being run by Trump’s children while he’s president, applied to trademark “Trump 250” logos and other merchandise.

The U.S. Mint is also producing a 24-karat gold commemorative coin with Trump’s face, though that recalls a half-dollar silver coin bearing the likeness of President Calvin Coolidge to help mark America’s 150th anniversary in 1926.

Past presidents had starring anniversary roles

Ulysses S. Grant opened a Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia to mark the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1876. Richard Nixon, in 1971, inaugurated a five-year “Bicentennial Era” ahead of the 200-year mark, though he resigned before the big day arrived.

Nixon’s successor, Gerald Ford, then in the midst of an ultimately unsuccessful reelection campaign, began the week of July 4, 1976, by inaugurating the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum and attending a Kennedy Center event featuring Bob Hope, OJ Simpson and others reading patriotic texts.

On Independence Day, Ford spoke at historic Valley Forge, then traveled to Philadelphia’s Independence Hall, declaring, “Liberty is a living flame to be fed, not dead ashes to be revered.“ He also went to New York Harbor for a tall ship parade, presided over naturalization ceremonies at Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello estate and hosted a state dinner for Britain’s Queen Elizabeth II.

Still, “while Ford certainly hoped to use the bicentennial to promote his reelection campaign, he didn’t do it in such a self-aggrandizing, self-centered, narcissistic way,” said Marc Stein, a history professor at San Francisco State University and author of “Bicentennial: A Revolutionary History of the 1970s.”

Ford, added Naftali, “knew when to step out of the limelight and make sure the focus was on what mattered, which was the United States of America and the Declaration of Independence.”

Trump, by contrast, “generally has contempt for norms” and rarely mentions “the great sweep of history,” Naftali said.

Dueling anniversary planners as Trump pushes to revise history

Congress charged a national organization, America250, with planning commemorative events. Ahead of the 2024 election, the group drafted a memo asking whomever the incoming president was to mobilize federal agencies and welcoming presidential involvement in events and initiatives.

Asked about Trump, America250 Chair Rosie Rios said the group “has had a very supportive and collaborative relationship with the organizations planning initiatives on behalf of the president.”

But Rios’ organization is separate from Freedom 250, a mix of public and private partnerships which the Trump administration established to fund and prepare anniversary events — which has caused confusion.

America250 aims to “inspire our fellow Americans to reflect on our past, strengthen our love of country, and renew our commitment to the ideals of democracy through programs that educate, engage, and unite us as a nation.”

That might seem a departure from the “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History” executive order Trump signed last year. It sought to beat back a “revisionist movement” responsible for “replacing objective facts with a distorted narrative driven by ideology rather than truth.”

Stein, now serving a one-year term as president of the Organization of American Historians, is helping organize “We Want More History,” a push to coordinate local events celebrating the public’s love for the subject in fact-based ways.

He said Trump’s version of history is “closer to propaganda, and it’s closer to cheerleading.”

World Cup gives Trump another platform to play host

The president has similarly taken his exceeding-normal-limits approach to the soccer tournament the U.S. is co-hosting with Mexico and Canada.

He created a federal World Cup task force, and leads it. He collected a peace prize from soccer’s governing body, FIFA, and said he’d be on stage to present the tournament’s golden trophy to the winning team.

Trump even oversaw the tournament’s draw at the Kennedy Center, which he’s sought to rename for himself, sparking legal challenges.

He returned to the same building to headline December’s Kennedy Center Honors, noting, “We never had a president hosting the awards before.” He later posted on social media, “Would you like me to leave the Presidency in order to make ‘hosting’ a full time job?”

Naftali noted, “Whatever filters there were in the first term — and there weren’t many — are gone.”

“It’s undiluted Donald Trump.”

Weissert writes for the Associated Press.

Maybe you can use a laugh this morning. Maybe you’re still deep in your feelings, thinking about the “Hacks” series finale and that shot of Hannah Einbinder looking at Jean Smart on the dance floor, grief seeping into her eyes. Maybe you’re lamenting the chaos at our treasured national parks. Hell … maybe you took out a loan to buy a tomato over the weekend.

If you’re feeling down, Gary Oldman would like a word. And that word is: Hufflepuff.

I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter, back in your inbox for the next few weeks as we navigate our way through Emmy season.

Digital cover story: The world according to Gary

(Jennifer McCord / For The Times)

Gary Oldman is a Hufflepuff.

Never mind that the 68-year-old actor, who played the rebellious, impulsive wizard Sirius Black in the Harry Potter film franchise, couldn’t tell you the difference between a Hufflepuff and, say, a Gryffindor.

When journalist Josh Horowitz reads a list of core personality qualities — loyalty, hard work, patience, fairness, dedication — and asks Oldman if that describes him, he nods his head.

You’re a Hufflepuff.

“I’m a Hufflepuff?” Oldman says, trying the word on for size. He likes it. “I’m a Hufflepuff!”

This video clip is a favorite of mine, one I could watch on a loop for the sheer delight Oldman takes in pronouncing the word Hufflepuff.

It’s easy to see why Oldman takes such pleasure in being a granddad these days, one of the things we talked about at length not long ago for an Envelope digital cover story. He can access his silly side with ease.

I asked Oldman about the upcoming HBO “Harry Potter” television series, a decade-spanning endeavor that will spend a season adapting each of J.K. Rowling’s seven fantasy books.

“I’ve seen a trailer for it, and I think it’s a great idea,” Oldman says. “They’re doing the whole book, which I love, because there were a lot of wonderful things, fabric and character detail, we had to lose for the sake of telling the story in two hours.”

Would Oldman be keen to don a distressed velvet overcoat again and participate in the reboot?

“I don’t think they want any of us from the movies contaminating or muddying the waters,” Oldman says, pleasantly. “Besides, I’m too old.”

But with AI, is anyone too old now? Oldman could drop into “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” and look like he hasn’t aged a day since the movie was released 22 years ago.

“I don’t know where we’re going with it because it seems to advance every week,” Oldman says. He ponders the advances made since Martin Scorsese used digital deaging in his 2019 film “The Irishman.”

“I think that was the least successful thing about it,” Oldman says of the technology, “and I’ve been a huge Martin Scorsese fan forever. Ultimately, I don’t know why they wanted to make [Robert] De Niro’s eyes blue.” He pauses, considering the change and why it bothered him. “I guess it’s a blue-eyed Irishman. If I had one negative takeaway, it would be that.”

Oldman prefers directors like Christopher Nolan, whom he worked with on the “Dark Knight” movies and “Oppenheimer,” who think technology should be used sparingly to enhance the storytelling.

“Otherwise it leaves me a bit cold,” he says. “You’re just looking at ones and zeroes.”

“I don’t want to be replaced entirely,” Oldman continues, shaking his head. “I don’t think anyone does.”

Read more coverage of ‘Slow Horses’

I live in Santa Barbara and I’m interested in photography. Where are some historical places to take pictures in Los Angeles? I’m interested in old movie palaces, movie and TV show locations, historic homes and buildings, World War II–related sites and airplane museums. — William Lemons

Looking for things to do in L.A.? Ask us your questions and our expert guides will share highly specific recommendations.

Here’s what we suggest:

It’s cool to hear that you’re interested in capturing the beauty and history of Los Angeles through your camera lens, William. Given that you’ll be traveling from out of town, I am recommending spots that you can visit in a single day, if you’d like. They’re mostly in and around Downtown L.A.

First off, if you don’t feel like driving and paying for parking all over town, I’d suggest taking Amtrak from Santa Barbara to L.A. You can take take photos of the gorgeous view along the way and once you step off the train, you’ll already be at the first historic site on the list: the true stunner that is Union Station.

Open since 1939, it’s one of the country’s last great train stations and considered to be the largest railroad passenger terminal on the West Coast. Designed by father-and-son architect team John and Donald Parkinson, it blends Art Deco, Spanish Colonial and Streamline Moderne styles. Travel writer Christopher Reynolds, a.k.a. the person in the newsroom that everyone goes to for trip advice, tells me, “With its clock tower, big arches and high ceilings, Union Station feels like a secular church.” He notes that security guards will often shoo you off if you use a tripod without advance approval, so it’s best to bring a handheld camera instead.

Next, walk across the road to Olvera Street, one of the oldest streets in L.A. It’s part of El Pueblo de Los Angeles Historic Monument that’s been fighting to stay open since the pandemic. As you stroll through the area and take pictures, check out the Mexican marketplace, capturing the pottery, clothing and art along the way, and grab some authentic cuisine. Times food editor Daniel Hernandez swears by Cielito Lindo, a taquería that’s been around since the 1934, and still makes the most “perfectly rolled taquitos.” (The family-owned restaurant is currently raising funds to stay open due to economic hardship.)

Next, hop on an e-scooter or take a quick bus ride to the Historic Broadway Theater District, which has 12 stunning movie theaters — all of which were built between 1910 and 1931. The Los Angeles Conservancy even hosts walking tours of the famous district. You can register online for the next ones on June 6, 13, 20 and 27.

You’ll probably be hungry after the tour, so you might as well visit Grand Central Market, the city’s largest and oldest public market. Open since 1917, the market has more than 40 food stalls including China Cafe (open since 1959), Villa’s Tacos, Egg Slut and more. Afterward, take a brisk walk to L.A.’s most beautiful library, the L.A. Central Library, which turns 100 this year. Grab your camera and marvel at the exterior of the Art Deco-style building, which draws inspiration from Egyptian and Mediterranean Revival architecture. Then head inside on the second floor rotunda to see the marvelous California history mural and the breathtaking globe chandelier.

Now for some rapid-fire suggestions across L.A.: There’s Frank Lloyd Wright’s 1920s-era Hollyhock House at Barnsdall Art Park in East Hollywood. (If you go here, I suggest stopping by nearby Ululani’s Hawaiian Shave Ice for a delicious sweet treat.) Or check out any one of L.A.’s most iconic TV houses including “The Brady Bunch” home in Studio City, “The Golden Girls” residence in Brentwood and the “Seinfield” Koreatown apartment building. (These are private residencies, so you won’t be able to go inside but you can snap a photo of the exterior.) If it’s architecture you’re into, peruse this guide to L.A.’s iconic homes that you can tour IRL, including the Adamson House in Malibu, the Eames House in Pacific Palisades and the Lummis Home (El Alisal) near Mount Washington. Finally, if you’re open to joining a group of fellow photographers, I suggest following Instagram pages for collectives like L.A. Photo Club and the 85 Mil Photo Walk Series, which host meetups and walking tours regularly.

L.A. is filled with so many beautiful historical sites, so I hope that these suggestions help get you started, and most importantly, that you continue taking awesome pictures. Have a great time!

WASHINGTON — Mired in a persistent cost of living crisis and an unpopular war with Iran, President Trump reached a perilous milestone last week, registering an approval rating of 34% in a top-tier poll — a record low less than halfway through his second term.

The results mark one of the sharpest polling collapses of any modern president. The data, from the Economist and YouGov, brings Trump back down to his political nadir, matching a number he hasn’t seen since the immediate aftermath of the Jan. 6 attack five years ago.

It follows on several other surveys published in recent days showing the president entering precarious political territory roughly six months ahead of the midterm elections, raising alarm bells in Republican campaign offices across the country over the party’s prospects in the fall.

It has also led pollsters to question long-standing assumptions about the president’s floor of support, wondering whether it is at risk of giving way.

“It’s harder to get lower, but it’s possible depending on what he does,” said Christopher Wlezien, a political scientist at the University of Texas at Austin. “To get that number down, you are going to have to eat into his core.”

Trump’s base of support remains strong, reinforcing a long-standing theory among pollsters that partisanship now serves as a direct proxy for presidential approval. But softening Republican support on specific policy matters — including top voter priorities, such as the economy — have begun raising questions among experts whether further erosion is possible.

A New York Times poll found his approval at 38%, and a Politico poll recorded a similar erosion, driven by a majority of Americans — including 18% of Trump supporters — stating they are financially worse off than they were before he resumed office.

Roughly 2 out of 3 Americans oppose the war Trump started with Iran. And the coalition that swept him back into office — including a surge in support from Latino, independent and young voters — has effectively disappeared.

While the downward trend looks like a story of a presidency in perpetual trouble, political scientists see a more complicated picture.

“Polarization has raised the floor and lowered the ceiling for approval ratings,” said Brandon Rottinghaus, a professor of political science at the University of Houston. “Dramatic swings are less common because approval ratings are now fixed to partisanship.”

The comparison to George W. Bush, whose numbers famously soared after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks and cratered into the mid-20s after Hurricane Katrina and the Iraq war, is instructive of how polarization has changed in the Trump era.

Bush governed in a country capable of moving together, in favor or against a president, in response to major events. Americans are no longer swayed in that way when it comes to their views of the president, Rottinghaus argues.

“Approval ratings today are increasingly a measure of who the president is rather than what the president does,” he said.

Trump, in his own way, has seemed to nod at this dynamic. When challenged on his standing with the public, or when a Republican lawmaker breaks with him over a policy issue, he has made the argument that he and the MAGA movement are inseparable. In other words, that opposition to any decision he makes is opposition to the movement itself.

“MAGA is me. MAGA loves everything I do, and I love everything I do,” Trump said in a January interview with NBC News when asked if his base supports long-term military interventions abroad.

Rottinghaus compared the questions about presidential approval as the “same as asking whether you’re Republican or not.”

“So why ask it,” he said.

Gallup, the organization that had tracked presidential approval for eight decades, announced earlier this year that it would stop publishing approval ratings of individual political figures, a shift that underscores how the traditional measure of a politician’s popularity has evolved.

When asked about the change, a Gallup spokesperson told the Washington Post at the time that “the context around these measures has changed.”

“They are now widely produced, aggregated and interpreted, and no longer represent an area where Gallup can make its most distinctive contribution,” the spokesperson added.

This article contains spoilers for the series finale of “Hacks.”

After five seasons and (thus far) 12 Emmys, “Hacks” has come to an end. The story of how Deborah Vance (Jean Smart), a 70-something comedian of the Joan Rivers type, and Ava Daniels (Hannah Einbinder), a prickly 20-something comedy writer, came together to resurrect both their careers was a roller coaster ride of intergenerational judgment, wins, setbacks, ruthless behavior, personal growth, power reclamation and much general hilarity.

Deborah sees Ava as entitled and self-righteous, Ava sees Deborah as washed-up and boring. Eventually, of course, they realize they are kindred spirits who do their best work together.

In Season 5, Deborah attempts yet another comeback. Having walked off her late-night show rather than fire Ava in Season 4, she is determined to rewrite her premature obituary by playing Madison Square Garden. When that too is snatched away, she pivots (with much difficulty and hilarity, including a show-stopping monologue by Laurie Metcalf’s tour manager Weed) to Central Park, where she is finally allowed a moment of glory, basking in the adulation of applauding thousands.

But that is not the end of “Hacks.” In the final episode, Deborah reveals she has cancer and rather than undergo treatment, she is choosing to “go out on top” with the aid of a Zurich clinic. She asks Ava to accompany her, after they take a girls trip to Paris. After an emotional meltdown, Ava agrees, hoping to persuade Deborah to change her mind. She does, but only after Deborah realizes that she cannot bear to walk away from the jokes she could write about dying. And so the show ends, with the two women walking arm in arm, first in Paris and then in Las Vegas, working on Deborah Vance’s final show.

Here, Times TV and culture critics Robert Lloyd and Mary McNamara discuss the ending, and legacy, of “Hacks.”

Deborah, left, decides she doesn’t want to get treatment for cancer despite Ava’s protests. Deborah changes her mind when she realizes she could write jokes about dying.

(HBO Max)

Mary McNamara: Hey there, Robert; are you as devastated as I am that we have no more “Hacks” to look forward to? The only solace I can find is the news that creators Lucia Aniello, Paul W. Downs and Jen Statsky are planning to release a DVD box set of the series. And the possibility that there could be a movie sequel — I for one want to see Deborah Vance’s death tour, especially since you know she’ll beat the odds and survive.

Seriously, though, sad as I am to contemplate life without “Hacks,” I am equally thrilled that the show so thoroughly stuck its landing. Finales are always a crap shoot and I appreciated how this season managed to show growth and cosmic justice while never tipping into treacle. I love that everyone ended on a win — including Marty! (Christopher McDonald) — and I didn’t even mind that suddenly Deborah had cancer (what?), was choosing assisted suicide (double what?) or that we were whisked to Paris (sure, I guess, why not?) because it made just enough narrative sense to set up Deborah’s decision to live because she just couldn’t leave good material on the table. “I may not have 30 years, but I do have one more hour,” may be the best line from a TV finale ever.

It is too easy to think of people like Deborah as clawing back their careers for fame, validation or money rather than a deep and essential love of their art. Having Deborah decide to prolong her life with chemo because she could not resist mining this final seam of comedic gold was a coup de grace.

What did you think?

Robert Lloyd: Hail, Mary. Reviewing the first-season finale, I wrote that the series was at heart a romantic comedy. And though many timely points were made along the way about artificial intelligence, the fate of late-night television and the awfulness of rich jerks who control media companies — Deborah’s Madison Square Garden show was undermined by the network head she named on national television in her resignation speech — the show asserted itself as a love story once again in the end. Where earlier seasons had depended on creating friction between Deborah and Ava, this one was mostly of concord, their only real clash being Deborah’s decision, introduced late in the season, to end her life (in a clean, posh way); her climactic change of heart spared us a medical tearjerker, but, believe me, I shed plenty of tears along the way. Unlike most seasons of “Hacks,” the fifth and final was orchestrated very much as a feel-good experience — “Ted Lasso” has nothing on it. A fairy tale, almost, as you point out, full of fairy-tale endings and plot points that were as good as magic. It could be contrived and improbable and old-fashioned in its triumphs snatched from the jaws of defeat, and I completely loved it.

Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) didn’t get the Madison Square Garden show she imagined, but she did get one at Central Park.

(HBO Max)

McNamara: The series had a lot to say about a lot of things (including vengeful power brokers/network executives) that feel particularly pointed now. But I deeply appreciated that while underlining the real obstacles Deborah and Ava faced, the writers showcased and explored how the bad choices each women had made, and defended, also contributed to their situations. Obviously having the great Jean Smart in the driver’s seat helped a lot — she revealed the woman beneath the diva even in Deborah’s most outrageous actions. The writers did not shy away from calling attention to the blatant sexism female comedians faced (and continue to face) or how the “woke” women of Ava’s generation are often able to see that kind of injustice more clearly.

It was, as you say, more rom-com than morality play, and rom-coms are often based on discovering that the differences that initially divide are too often based on, well, to put it in its original form, pride and prejudice. So while there was some hilarious and spot-on commentary about intergenerational miscommunication, there was also a clear message of how important it is for people with vastly different experiences to listen to, and learn from each other, which also feels incredibly important at this moment in time, especially given the show’s essential, and deeply human, respect for creative work. What motivated Deborah and Ava, and virtually every character in “Hacks” — agent Jimmy (Downs), his assistant Kayla (Megan Stalter) and later Randi (Robby Hoffman); Deborah’s staff, including Marcus (Carl Clemons Hopkins), Damien (Mark Indelicato) and Josefina (Rose Abdoo) — was a belief in the importance, and difficulty, of the creative process. It’s something that is rarely, if ever, the work of a single individual — as Deborah finally acknowledges at the opening of the Diva casino. Or as Laurie Metcalf’s Weed makes clear in her hilarious monologue before the Central Park gig.

1

2

1. Creativity isn’t the work of a single individual: Damien (Mark Indelicato), Marcus (Carl Clemons-Hopkins) and Deborah (Jean Smart) at work on the casino. (HBO Max) 2. Deborah’s crew at her Central Park show. (HBO Max)

Lloyd: In a way Deborah’s speech summed up what we’d already been seeing through an especially generous season that served as “Hacks’” tribute to itself and its people. It was a party to which most every significant and many minor characters were invited, including Metcalf and McDonald; Luenell as comedian Miss Loretta; Poppy Liu as Deborah’s personal blackjack dealer, Kiki; Jane Adams as Ava’s mother, Nina; J. Smith-Cameron as Deborah’s estranged sister, Kathy; and Kaitlin Olson as Deborah’s daughter, DJ, who finally got her mom to partner with her on “The Amazing Race” and was allowed to sell her detachable earrings on QVC.

Gifts were distributed widely, including a previously unseen interview with Deborah’s late husband and co-star, Frank (Peter Strauss), giving her credit for their success — credit he had previously accepted for himself — and thus removing a giant thorn that drove the early plot. These kind-hearted acts of closure were performed both for the benefit of these very real, made-up people, and for We the Viewers, who have made them our family. Declarations, or at least demonstrations of love, were abundant, not merely between Deborah and Ava, with the characters acting as our proxies, feeling what we want them to feel, and what we feel for them ourselves. (There are moments this year when Einbinder — whose brilliance Smart could seem to outshine, but who was never less than an equal partner — absolutely killed me, just in the tender way she gazed upon Deborah.) That’s why it’s so hard to let go of a show like this, even when we know it’s time to say goodbye. You can only stretch an arc so far before it breaks.

McNamara: You’re right, of course. But I still want to see the “Hacks” movie.

At this year’s Sundance Film Festival, filmmaker William D. Caballero won the NEXT Special Jury Award for Creative Expression for his intensely personal, multimedia feature debut, “TheyDream.” During his acceptance speech, he made a powerful statement.

“In case ICE were ever to harm me or kill me, this film will serve as the truth of who I am, and who my family is, before Fox News or this administration ever makes us out to be the villain[s],” he recalls paraphrasing during a recent interview.

Blending live action footage with different animation techniques — as well as the 3-D-printed miniatures that have been a fixture of Caballero’s work for more than a decade — “TheyDream” honors the filmmaker’s Puerto Rican loved ones, particularly his mother, Milly.

She collaborated with him in the making of this one-of-a-kind portrait of loss, resilience and shared healing. Their heartfelt exchanges throughout this process are also shared on-screen.

“Seeing her light up and become transformed throughout was just invigorating, because it allowed us to talk about heavy things and bond throughout the process of creating a story that’s personal [for us] both,” Caballero says. “It’s like, ‘Let’s guide each other and instead of me taking your stories and making magic with them, let’s make this magic together.’”

The brilliantly unconventional piece of autobiographical storytelling will screen as the closing night film of the Los Angeles Latino International Film Festival (LALIFF) on Sunday. Recently, John Leguizamo and Ben DeJesus joined the film as executive producers.

Starting with his 2013 short film “How You Doin,’ Boy? Voicemails From Gran’pa,” Caballero has used miniatures to immortalize his loved ones. That bite-sized introduction to his Boricua grandfather’s humorous wisdom evolved into the HBO Latino show, “Gran’pa Knows Best.”

“When I started working on ‘Gran’pa Knows Best,’ I knew that 3-D printing was this new technique,” he says. “But I’d never seen anyone that looked or sounded like my grandfather in it. I realized that it could be a really creative method to preserve his voice and his story. “

Then came the 2017 short “Victor & Isolina” about his grandparents’ relationship, and more recently in 2022, he debuted “Chilly and Milly,” which focused on his parents. Some of the sets from these shorts, tiny replicas of places familiar to Caballero, and a few of the miniature characters were reused in “TheyDream.”

“Being able to create these things in miniature is almost like getting back in touch with the idea of play,” Caballero explains. “As a child, you invent lots of stories all the time. But now as an artist, I’m able to tell stories that touch upon reality and painful memories, but also hopes and dreams in a way that hearkens back to the innocence of childhood.”

Filmmaker William D. Caballero will screen “TheyDream” on Sunday at the Los Angeles Latino International Film Festival (LALIFF).

(William D. Caballero)

“TheyDream” is a culmination of the eclectic and nimble artistic practice that Caballero has developed since he studied digital art at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn.

“I’d always just been attracted to new ways of expressing myself and expressing stories. And I say this both in a way that brings me pride, but also brings me a bit of a headache, because I don’t think I’ll ever be a conventional filmmaker,” he says, laughing.

Still, working outside the margins of traditional moviemaking requires great adaptability.

When Caballero received funding for “TheyDream” in 2021, the money wasn’t enough to conceive it as he had originally envisioned it: entirely told with 3-D-printed figures in physical sets. The lack of resources forced him to rethink his approach, and he opted for hiring two Puerto Rican animators, Julisse Tinoco and Frank Martinez, each of whom animate in distinct styles, to help him create some of the sequences needed.

“This all goes back to the resourcefulness that I learned when I was young,” Caballero says. “When you’re born Latino and low-income in this society, you can’t let yourself be written off or you’re already defeated before you even begin.”

Caballero grew up in housing projects in New York City, and later in a trailer in his grandmother’s backyard in Fayetteville, N.C. Both of his parents were disabled.

Filmmaker William D. Caballero poses as his father for a reference shot in the making of his 2026 film “TheyDream.”

For Caballero, he says the arts have provided an escape that he “needed in order to survive and not feel weighed down by American consumerism, by poverty and by feeling trapped.” Whenever grief has perturbed him, Caballero has processed it through creativity.

With “TheyDream,” he wished to extend that vehicle for self-reflection to his mother. The film addresses complicated familial bonds and his mother’s experience caring for others.

“Throughout the years, we’ve lost several of my family members that we were both close to, but my mother especially,” he says. “She feels their absence much stronger than I do. I live in Los Angeles, my mother still lives in North Carolina. Knowing that she was alone in the mobile home, it just made me feel like, ‘That can’t be good for her.’”

His mother, he says, deals with self-esteem issues because her identity has for so long been reduced to being a caretaker for elderly relatives, who, inevitably, pass away — leaving her feeling like a failure. In reality, it was thanks to her devotion that they added years of life.

Caballero’s mother was at the Sundance premiere of “TheyDream,” where she witnessed how others saw her through the film she helped her son craft.

“I wanted her to feel like, ‘Mom, look at all these people that are clapping for you. They’re clapping for you because you are a hero. You deserve to hold yourself high and be strong and know that there’s something incredible in your story that’s indicative of the stories of many low-income Americans, regardless of race,’” Caballero says, visibly moved.

A prolific and highly regarded artist (he is a 2018 Guggenheim Fellow), Caballero has several other projects in the works that he’s trying to shop around. One of them is an episodic series titled “Second Fiddle,” about a 15-year-old Latino boy who gets accepted to a prestigious summer youth orchestra camp — and whose overbearing mother decides she’s going to stay in the camp with him.

Caballero’s mother, Milly, got the animated treatment in “TheyDream.”

“I never saw a Latino playing violin on TV or the big screen. I didn’t see any quirky, nerdy, artsy Latino kids like I was,” he says. “And I felt in my core that [it] was just wrong and something that I could change.”

Another project, “Raúl Playing Game,” is “an adult version of Pixar’s ‘Inside Out,’ ” that takes place in the mind of a closeted bisexual man. Caballero himself is bisexual. In 2022, “Raúl Playing Game” was selected for the LALIFF Inclusion Fellowship, which provided support for a short film version that serves as proof of concept for a potential TV show.

“I always wanted to make sure that I was telling authentic stories even if not necessarily always positive stories,” he says. “I’m very happy that I never lost track of that. Because I do believe that we need to tell our own stories, in our own unique voices, before someone else does it for us.”

“Hell’s Kitchen,” the Alicia Keys musical that has landed at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre in a blaze of rousing sound, deploys the R&B star’s glorious treasure trove of work in the service of a semi-autobiographical version of her coming-of-age story in the Manhattan neighborhood that gives the show its title.

The Hell’s Kitchen of Alicia Keys’ story, set in the 1990s, isn’t the gang-ridden Hell’s Kitchen of West Side Story, set in the 1950s. Keys grew up in Manhattan Plaza, a federally subsidized residential complex that provides affordable housing for artists. But for a teenager in rebellion from her watchful mother, the vibrant, music-filled street life comes with its share of dangers.

Kennedy Caughell as Jersey and Maya Drake as Ali in the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

Ali (Maya Drake, who’s making her professional debut in this North American tour production) is a 17-year-old ready to break out of the cage her mother, Jersey (Kennedy Caughell), has placed her in. Jersey, a single mom, isn’t a tyrant. She just doesn’t want to see her daughter make the same mistakes that she did, namely get pregnant at a young age before she’s had a chance to realize her own dreams.

The book by playwright Kristoffer Diaz (“The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity”) is structured around a loving but combustible mother-daughter relationship amid the creative ferment of New York. This artistic neverland is crystallized in the apartment building that has music pouring out of every floor when Ali rides the elevator.

Maya Drake as Ali and the company of the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

The story isn’t the strong suit of “Hell’s Kitchen,” which is powered by Alicia Keys’ versatile catalog, which has been supplemented with original material. The hits — “You Don’t Know My Name,” “Girl on Fire,” “Fallin’,” “If I Ain’t Got You,” “Like You’ll Never See Me Again,” “No One” and “Empire State of Mind,” among them — reverberate inside the Pantages with a thrilling exuberance.

What’s most impressive, however, is the way these tracks have been arranged both musically and dramatically. Jukebox musicals are notorious for shoe-horning in beloved songs without regard for storytelling integrity. “Mamma Mia!,” which crammed in as many ABBA hits as possible, hardly even bothered to find pretext for their inclusion. The lucrative example paved the way for more than two decades of musical theater shamelessness.

The company of the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

“Hell’s Kitchen,” directed by Michael Greif, takes a more dignified approach, raiding Keys’ greatest hits in a way that doesn’t cause dramatic offense and better yet, adds a layer of surprise to music that is so well known.

The songs are allocated in unexpected ways. Numbers that you might think belong to Ali are divided among the company. Jersey is first in line, and Caughell makes the most of her opportunities. But sharing in the bounty are Davis (Desmond Sean Ellington), Ali’s mostly absent and chronically unreliable father; Knuck (Jonavery Worrell), Ali’s forbidden love interest; or Miss Liza Jane (Roz White), a pianist who lives in the building and becomes Ali’s formidable mentor.

There are other characters who offer luminous assistance, but these are the principals in a musical tale built around Ali’s central relationships. Keys’ origin story is more dynamic on an atmospheric than dramatic level. A mother having difficulty with her boy-crazy teenage daughter isn’t exactly breaking any ground, and Diaz avoids venturing into more turbulent territory. Ali’s divided identity, stemming in part from an all-too-present white mother and all-too-missing Black father, sets up issues that are touched on but never deeply engaged.

Desmond Sean Ellington as Davis and Kennedy Caughell as Jersey and the company of the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

Miss Liza Jane spots Ali’s musical gift right away and fills her with a sense of pride and responsibility in her Black heritage. But her character’s role is somewhat earnestly compartmentalized. Knuck recognizes that Ali’s fascination with him stems in part from the way she sees him, much as her mother does, as a “thug.” But their tentative affair is secondary to the complex bond between Ali and Jersey, whose troubled connection with Davis helps Ali understand why her mother is so paranoid about her romantic choices.

But these concerns fall away when the performers start singing. Drake has a beautiful voice, but her Ali is slighter than that of Maleah Joi Moon, who won a Tony for her Broadway debut performance. I didn’t mind that Davis sings “Fallin’,” as Ellington has a voice of luscious thunder. Worrell’s Knuck more than holds his own with his duets with Ali. (In fact, I was more taken by his velvety interpretation of “Like You’ll Never See Me Again” than Ali’s more straightforwardly pretty version.) White’s Miss Liza Jane takes the Pantages audience to church in her numbers. And when Caughell magnificently directs “No One” to Ali, I can’t imagine there’s a dry eye in the house.

Desmond Sean Ellington as Davis and Maya Drake as Ali in the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

This tour production isn’t crisp in all areas. The dancing isn’t always smooth, the costumes struck me as a road show idea of New York cool, and the acting didn’t do much to compensate for some of the book’s less subtle moments.

But the energy of the production is infectious. “Hell’s Kitchen,” a New York story of a wunderkind discovering her gift, helped me get over my allergy to the jukebox genre. The soaring quality of the orchestra and the delectable company of voices pay exhilarating homage to a singular artist, who seems right at home at the Pantages.