way

Yes, Tom Cruise will soon own an Oscar. But has he ever flown a Boeing 737 with 150 passengers on board?

I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter, here to explain why Nathan Fielder should be the Top Gun of this Emmy season.

A show too singular to ignore

The second season of Nathan Fielder’s brilliantly bonkers “The Rehearsal” opens inside a commercial jet cockpit where the plane’s captain and first officer are having a tense exchange as they prepare to land at a fogged-in runway. The first officer suggests they’re off course. The captain disagrees but is soon proved wrong as the plane crashes. We see the pilots slumped in the cockpit, dead. Then the camera pans to Fielder, surveying the fiery aftermath, a disaster he just re-created in a simulator on a soundstage.

With that prelude, it may seem strange to tell you that I laughed out loud as many times watching “The Rehearsal” as I did any other TV series this season. Not during the simulated disasters, of course, which Fielder used to illustrate what he believes to be biggest issue in airline travel today — pilots failing to communicate during a crisis.

So, yes, “The Rehearsal” is about airline safety. Mostly. But Fielder is a master of misdirection. There is no way you can predict where he’ll direct his premise, and I found myself delighting in utter surprise at the tangents he took in “The Rehearsal” this season.

An alternate biopic of pilot Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger, with Fielder playing Sully from diapered baby to the Evanescence-loving hero landing in the Hudson River? Yes! Re-creating the German subsidiary of Paramount+ as a Nazi headquarters? OK! Vacuuming up air from San Jose to help train a cloned dog in Los Angeles while he attempts to understand how the nature-vs.-nurture dynamic might play out in human behavior? Ummmmm … sure. We’ll go with it!

Nathan Fielder takes the controls in “The Rehearsal.”

(John P. Johnson / HBO)

With Fielder’s incisive mind, the detours are everything. Even the destination this season came as a jolt. Yes, it involves that Boeing 737 I mentioned in the intro, and, no, I’m not going to elaborate because I still feel like not enough people have watched “The Rehearsal.” The series’ first two seasons are available on HBO, as are all four seasons of Fielder’s Comedy Central docuseries “Nathan for You,” which had Fielder “helping” small-business owners improve their sales. (Example: Pitching a Santa Clarita liquor store owner that he should sell booze to minors but just not let them take it home until they turned 21.)

The humor in “The Rehearsal” can be just as outrageous as “Nathan for You,” but the overall tone is more thoughtful, as it also explores loneliness and the masks we all wear at times to hide our alienation.

For the Emmys, HBO has submitted “The Rehearsal” in the comedy categories. Where else would they put it? But the show is so singular that I wonder if even its fans in the Television Academy will remember to vote for it. They should. It’s funny, insightful, occasionally terrifying, utterly unforgettable. And I hope Isabella Henao, the winner of the series’ reality show competition, goes places. She sure can sing!

Tom Cruise, Dolly Parton will have their Oscar moments

Meanwhile, that other pilot, Tom Cruise, will finally receive an Oscar, an honorary one, in November at the Governors Awards, alongside production designer Wynn Thomas and choreographer and actor Debbie Allen.

Dolly Parton, singer, actor and beloved icon, will be given the annual Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award for her charitable work.

Cruise has been nominated for three acting Oscars over the years — for playing Marine Corps Sgt. Ron Kovic in Oliver Stone’s 1989 antiwar movie “Born on the Fourth of July,” the sports agent who had Renée Zellweger at hello in Cameron Crowe’s 1996 classic “Jerry Maguire” and the chauvinistic motivational speaker in Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1999 opus “Magnolia.” Cruise was also nominated as a producer for 2022’s dad cinema favorite “Top Gun: Maverick.”

Tom Cruise, left, and Paul Newman in “The Color of Money.”

(Fox Broadcasting Company)

Cruise should have won the supporting actor Oscar for “Magnolia,” a ferocious turn in which he harnessed his strutting brashness to play an odious character hiding a deep well of pain. It came the same year as his star turn opposite then-wife Nicole Kidman in “Eyes Wide Shut.” Not a bad double feature! Instead, Michael Caine won for “Cider House Rules” during an Oscar era in which there was seemingly no prize Harvey Weinstein couldn’t land. It wasn’t even Caine’s first Oscar; he had already won for “Hannah and Her Sisters.”

Cruise has devoted himself to commercial action movies, mostly of the “Mission: Impossible” variety, for the past two decades. He did recently complete filming a comedy with director Alejandro González Iñárritu, scheduled for release next year.

It’d be funny if Cruise wins a competitive Oscar after picking up an honorary one. It happened with Paul Newman, Cruise’s co-star in “The Color of Money.”

Read more of our Emmy coverage

In the latest episode of The Envelope video podcast, we sit down with “Paradise” creator Dan Fogelman in front of a live audience at the Newport Beach TV Festival to hear what he has planned for Season 2 of Hulu’s buzzy dystopian drama and much more.

Kelvin Washington: Hey, everybody, welcome to this week’s episode of The Envelope. Kelvin Washington here alongside Yvonne Villarreal and Mark Olsen as usual. You two, we want to have a conversation about Emmy nominations. We know they’re gonna be coming up — this will be the last episode before we find out who is nominated — so you got some some bold takes? You got some things on your mind? Don’t roll your eyes!

Yvonne Villarreal: No, not rolling! I’m getting ready. You know, streaming obviously still dominates a lot of the conversation, whether it’s “Severance” or “The Studio.” But I’m going to say, I look forward to seeing my girl Kathy Bates get a nomination for “Matlock” on CBS. That is my prediction and I’m sticking with it.

Washington: All right, Mark, you got a bold one for us?

Olsen: I’m going to go with Matt Berry for “What We Do in the Shadows.” The show just wrapped up its sixth and final season. And he’s just been such a comedic powerhouse on that show. And season after season, he’s been so inventive, so fun. And I just think it’d be great to see him recognized for the totality of the work that he’s done there.

Washington: The person I’m gonna name is in this show you mentioned, “Severance.” Tramell Tillman. Milchick. There’s a moment on my other show that I do, I danced and everyone said, “Oh, you’re Milchick! What do you think, you’re Milchick?” Everyone’s just screaming — it was a whole thing. That was one of the signature moments of the season, I think.

Villarreal: Why don’t you ever do that here?

Washington: First off, it’s early. You don’t know what I’m gonna do the rest of this episode. You don’t know.

Villarreal: I don’t have a drumline here.

Olsen: He’s in the new “Mission: Impossible,” “The Final Reckoning,” and I saw that at a public [screening], and the moment he came onscreen, people cheered in the audience. Like he has such a fan base from the show.

Villarreal: Well earned.

Olsen: Beautiful thing for him! Let’s talk about, you had something cool you got to do, Yvonne, speaking with someone that you’re familiar with, Dan Fogelman, showrunner for “Paradise.” You got to this at the Newport Beach TV Festival, where you sat down and had this conversation in front of a live audience. He got a showrunner of the year award as well. It was really cool, right?

Villarreal: It was very scary. I do like audiences, but I do get a little nervous. Speaking with somebody that I’ve talked to many times helps ease the sort of stage fright there. Dan Fogelman is somebody that I have spoken to a lot of times over the years because I covered “This Is Us” from beginning to end.

And it’s funny because I remember, last year I was on the set of “Only Murders in the Building,” which he is a producer on, and they were filming on the Paramount lot for their sort of trip to L.A. last season. And he had just started production on “Paradise” on the same lot. And he took a break and headed over to our neck of the woods on the Paramount lot to show everybody a cut of a scene that they had just wrapped for “Paradise.” He was so excited to share that with everyone, and he’s like, “Yvonne, you gotta see this, you gotta see this,” and it’s Sterling K. Brown doing a scene and you’re just in awe of it. This show has political intrigue, there’s a murder mystery, there’s the destruction of the planet, and the premise is Sterling K. Brown plays a Secret Service agent who’s accused of killing the president and is sort of trying to unravel who was really at fault here, and that’s just on the surface. There’s a lot more to it than that because Dan Fogelman is known for his twists, and he didn’t disappoint here. So it was really fun to unpack that with him in front of an audience

Washington: A whole lot of twists in that show, for sure. All right, without further ado, let’s get to that chat with Dan Fogelman. Here’s Yvonne.

Sterling K. Brown in “Paradise.”

(Brian Roedel / Disney)

Villarreal: Dan and I go way back.

Fogelman: “This Is Us” days.

Villarreal: I had the great privilege of covering “This Is Us” from beginning to end. And that show, I would often come to you and say, “Why are you making me cry?” And “Can you make me cry some more?” This show, it was very much, “What is going on here?” Talk about the genesis of this show, because it actually predates “This Is Us,” the kernel of the idea.

Fogelman: I’d started thinking about this show long before “This Is Us.” When I was a young writer in Hollywood, they start sending you on all these “general” meetings, which is, basically, you go to meetings with important people with no agenda. And it can be a very awkward dance. You tell your same origin story a hundred times. At one of these meetings, I was meeting with a captain of industry, a very important person. As that person was speaking to me, I was not hearing anything he or she was saying. I was calculating how much money I thought they were worth. I was thinking, “Is this a billionaire? Am I in the room with a billionaire?” And on the way home — this was a long time ago — it was in the shadow of 9/11, and a nearby construction site dropped something, and it made a loud boom, one of those booms that shakes you for a second, and I thought to myself, “Wow, when the s— really hits the fan, that guy’s gonna be as screwed as all the rest of us, because all the people that must take care of him are going to run after taking care of their own people.”

I started thinking about that. I started to think about a Secret Service agent and a president, somebody whose job it is to take a bullet. And this idea of telling a murder mystery of an ex-president underground and learning later that the world has ended above. That was the impetus behind it. I kind of put it away. I wrote “This Is Us.” I talked with some big sci-fi writers about the idea, thinking maybe I could produce it for somebody better than me to make it. And then when “This Is Us” ended, I was like, “I’m gonna try and do that one.” And so it took like 15 years to come back around.

Villarreal: What do you remember about those conversations with the other sci-fi writers?

Fogelman: People thought, “Oh, that’s a cool idea.” But that’s as far as it goes because that’s lot of work to then figure out the cool idea. And that became the problem with this show. I wrote it and I had to sit down and figure out how we were going to do it, and what was the tone going to be, and what were the twists and turns. They all kind of said, “Thanks but no thanks,” because it seemed really hard, I think. I just waited and did it. It takes a while and it takes a village; it takes a lot of writers sitting with you and figuring out how to shape the world.

Villarreal: How much was it tugging at you during “This Is Us”?

Fogelman: During “This Is Us,” I was pretty in “This Is Us” and a couple of other projects at the time. The last two years were like fraught with COVID, and there was no more in-person stuff, and everybody was wearing masks on set. It was a really tough two years of a six-year show. At the end, in the final season, we did 18 episodes and I had 18 Post-it notes on my wall in my office, and each time I would finish a script, I would “X” it out. And each time I’d finish an edit, I’d “X” it out. Because that was how much left I had to do. They’re still on my wall in my office to this day because it was so exhausting and it was such a big accomplishment to just be done with that, when it was over, I was like, “Oh, now’s the part where I take the Post-it notes off the wall.” And I never did. They’re just still hanging on by a thread there. But then I took a break for six months, and I started getting the itch to write something. That idea kept poking through and poking through. I just wrote it without telling anybody first.

Villarreal: One of my favorite things about a creator like Dan, a writer like Dan, is you’re that person who likes to watch people watch something. During “This Is Us,” I remember you would be so excited about a scene or something, and you’d be like, “You gotta see this,” and you would screen it in the next room. “Paradise” too — when “Only Murders in the Building” was shooting on the Paramount lot for their trip to L.A., you were doing “Paradise” at the same time, and you took a break to sort of come see the set of “Only Murders,” which you’re an executive producer on. And you had this scene with Sterling and you wanted to show it.

But you were hesitant about pitching this to Sterling, which I’m sort of surprised by because I think you know when something’s good. Talk a little bit about what made you nervous about giving it to him and what he would say.

Fogelman: I’m a person who operates off of obligation. My best friend, [who] gave a speech at my wedding, said, “You can ask Dan for anything and he’ll feel too guilty not to do it.” He’s like, “He’s my ride home tonight” — that was his joke at my wedding. I felt worried that Sterling would feel obligated after “This Is Us.” When we ended “This Is Us,” I remember very vividly Sterling wrapping, and I did a little impromptu quick thing when he was wrapping and I was like, “Sterling, you go out in the world now and make us proud.” We could all see what’s coming for Sterling and what remains to be coming for him. I was like, “Go win your Oscars. Don’t forget us when you’re even more famous” — that kind of thing. To come back to him a year and a half later with a script for another TV show with the same guy, I wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t like it; I was worried that it would put him in a weird position. He was so gracious. I sent it to him. I had written it picturing Sterling but never vocalizing that to myself. Then I started letting friends read it to get their feedback, and they’re like, “Did you develop this with Sterling, or was it his idea?” And I was like, “No, I’ve never talked to Sterling about this.” And it started occurring to me that if I didn’t get Sterling, I had a huge problem because that is who I’ve been picturing. I sent it to him, and he read it that day and called me back and said, “Tell me where it goes” — because obviously if you watch the pilot, it doesn’t tell you a lot about where it’s going. I gave him the broad strokes of where it was going for three seasons. I said: “It’s three seasons, I want to shoot it in L.A. Here’s what the arc of it is. Here’s where it’s going. Here’s what happened in the world.” And he said, “I’m in.” We just kind of shook hands. And that day we were off to the races.

Villarreal: What did he think about the twists in that first episode?

Fogelman: Sterling emotes, right? Sterling will come into the writers’ room — he’s an executive producer on the show — and if you pitch him something surprising, he falls to the floor and rolls on his back like a golden retriever. He reacts and he emotes. So, he was really into it. He had the same question I think everybody had after the pilot, which is, “What happens now?” I kind of had the rough answers. As you know, he’s the best guy. I was just outside, and somebody was asking me, like, “How do you get Julianne Nicholson and James Marsden to do your show?” I’m like, “Well, it helps if you already have Sterling K. Brown because they all want to work with Sterling.” And hopefully they tolerate me and the script. It’s been a gift with him.

Villarreal: You said Sterling sort of became the person you were thinking about as it evolved. How did you decide who should be which characters? Why was Sterling right for Xavier? Why was Julianne right for this tech billionaire?

Fogelman: There’s not a lot of art to it. You just kind of see it in your brain a little bit. Sterling I’d worked with, I had known Julianne and James from their work, not personally. The other actors in the show, for the most part, I’d known of their work or whatnot. Most of them read, and when you’re doing this job, a big part of your job is you see a lot of really beautiful, talented people read the same lines of dialogue. And your job is to think, “Which person fits it? And which person makes it most interesting?” Jon Beavers, who plays Billy Pace, was an actor I didn’t know. And I really wanted him from the moment I saw him on tape. I was like, “This is the guy for that part.” But I knew, because it was only four episodes, that there might be a clamoring for a bigger name in the part. Because it would be possible. Because you could go cast anybody because it’s a month of work if they were willing to pay him. And so Jon came in and he read and he read again. And then you get to a part where it’s like chemistry tests. And he was reading with Nicole [Brydon Bloom] and a couple of other people who [were in the running to] play Jane. And I just loved him. He walked out of the room at the end of it, and I ran out after him and I said, “Jon, would you ever look at a new scene that I haven’t given you yet? It’s from the fourth episode, and you’ve only got the pilot to audition off of.” I knew the scene was big, and I wanted to have a piece of material that would be undeniable if I needed it to win with the powers that be. And Jon sat with the scene for three minutes and came in to me and said, “I’m ready.” And he came in, and it became his big scene right before his death in the show where he confronts Julianne’s character, Sinatra. And actually, when I first Zoomed with Julianne, I showed her the scene. I was like, you want to see something cool? This guy did this in three minutes without any preparation and look how good it is. And so part of it is just like a gut instinct or really liking somebody for it. And I had that with everybody in the cast on this one.

Should I be funnier? I feel like I should be funny.

Villarreal: Do you have a Sterling story?

Fogelman: What’s my best Sterling story…

Villarreal: He’s bare naked in this.

Fogelman: Oh, my God. When I first showed him — because Sterling takes eight years to watch or read anything, except for this pilot. And it drives me crazy because I want Sterling to like it, and I’m very excited. I’m like, “Have you seen the second episode?” He’s like, “I haven’t had time, man.” I’m like, “You haven’t had time to watch a 50-minute episode of television? It’s been a month!” And it drives you crazy. But then he finally saw that third episode and he was like, “Dan, all anyone’s going to talk about is my ass. Is it gonna be released in the first batch of episodes?” ’Cause he went a hundred years down the road and was seeing the press where they always wanted to ask a question about his ass. But he loves it. He’s so proud of it. And the first person to see “Paradise” was my mother-in-law [and wife]. I showed them the first three episodes at home before anyone had seen it. [My mother-in-law] had lived and breathed “This Is Us” with me; my wife was in the show. And when that part came on, the shower, she started fanning herself. And she said “Oh, Sterling!” That made him very happy. That was his proudest moment of the show, I think.

Villarreal: This show is marketed as a political thriller, and the question that looms over the season is, “Who killed the president?” But then you get to the final moments of that season opener and you realize, “OK, there’s a lot more to this. This seemingly all-American town is really this community carved under a Colorado mountain after an apocalyptic event.” What was going through your mind in terms of how to piece it out? How meticulous were you in the edit — like, is this is revealing too much too soon?

Fogelman: It’s less in the edit, because at the edit you’re already pretty bound to what you’ve scripted, but it was in the writing stages. My intent for the show was that in the first season of eight episodes, we were going to provide answers every week, ask new questions and hopefully have provided a complete meal by the end of the season where, for the most part, I think any question you’ve been asking in the course of the first series of the show is answered by the end of the season. I was very clinical about that. I get frustrated when shows give you too much too quickly but also when they withhold for too long. I thought, for this one, I wanted to be really calculated about it. In the second episode, you start learning, “Oh, wow, the world really did end, something catastrophic happened” and you’re learning more about Sinatra; in the opening sequence of [Episode] 2, Sinatra is telling all these other scientists that something imminent is coming for the world. We would constantly, in the writers’ room, put ourselves in the minds of the television audience. If I was watching at home, I’d say, “Oh, they’re all in the ‘Truman Show’; this is all fake, it’s a social experiment.” At what point do we get rid of that theory for the audience? At what point do we tell the audience and show the audience what actually happened on the day the world ended? And so that was really calculated with how we were gonna parse it out.

Villarreal: The press get episodes ahead of time. But it was interesting watching people watch it week to week and see their reactions on social media. The show launched with three episodes, then it switched to weekly. How much were you involved in those discussions about starting with three episodes at launch?

Fogelman: That was a big conversation. I’ve got a great studio and network who involve me in the conversations. I don’t know if I could move the needle if I disagreed strongly with anything, but they at least involve me. My first instinct had been, “Let’s let the pilot be the only thing that gets put out in the world and let people talk about it and what that ending says.” But then you have to acknowledge the fact that people are being served television in just a very different way these days. The whole point of the show is I wanted to make something that was hopefully artful and well done but also propulsive, and you don’t want to frustrate people. We’re accustomed to hitting that drip of next episode, next episode. So while I did want that week-to-week build and momentum, I was also aware we have to give them a little bit more to hook them in. And ultimately you trust the people that are like, “We know how things play.” I wanted this show to get seen. That was a big conversation: Was it one episode? Was it two? Or was it three? Ultimately, they decided three. The downside of that is you get less weeks to build the momentum of a television show that people are starting to talk about. It worked in our favor this time. I think it’s what we’re going to do this coming season, most likely. We do it on “Only Murders” as well — release two or three up top. I did “This Is Us” and other network television shows where it was like, you know when “This Is Us” launched, it had that big twist ending, and then people sat on it for a week and talked. But it was a different time. It was 2016, and we were not as on that Netflix kind of drip of just sitting like hamsters hitting the dopamine button. You have to weigh that. I love a weekly release. My whole goal with this show was to capture a small sliver of the zeitgeist where people could be talking about something, hypothesizing and talking, and I knew that required a weekly release. But how many [episodes to launch with] to get people like locked and loaded was a big debate.

Villarreal: What was the episode or the moment that you were most eager to see how people responded to?

Fogelman: So, my process always has been, I find strangers — I could pick out 20; I try and have them vetted by people who know them, so friends of my writers, friends of actors — and I start bringing them into my edit bay early and screen for them. There’s this old screening process that used to happen in television and film, which is really bad, because you just literally give people dials. You guys familiar with this? You give people dials and you say, “When are you liking something? Turn up your dial.” All you’ll hear is they don’t like that actor, they don’t like that moment. And I’m like, “Well, yeah, the grandfather was dying. I don’t expect them to be going, ‘Weeeee!’” It was a very broken system. But I do believe in screening stuff for people and seeing how they react, even if you’re not going to change it; even if you go, “Well, you’re stupid, you don’t get how brilliant I am.” I bring people into my edit bay all the time and strangers who sign [nondisclosure agreements] — I would do that on “This Is Us,” I did that here. I was very interested to see what happened at the end of the pilot to people. Are they following it? Are they following the ending the right way, the way I want them to? After that, you would start hearing murmurings in the room as the camera’s rising and as the guy’s going “the world’s ending” and they realize they’re underground. After, I will say things like, “When did you start realizing something was amiss? Did any of you get ahead of it?” I will get a little bit more granular. It was exciting in the fourth episode when we killed a character, watching an audience in my small little edit bay, watching them go with that episode, knowing we were about to pull the rug out from under them. And that they were going to have a reaction — that was exciting. It’s exciting when it goes the way you want it to go. They were turning to me going, “You motherf—, you can’t!” You’re like, “Oh, good. That’s good. That’s a good day at work!” Watching people watch that last episode and feeling them move with the explosions, that’s my most exciting thing. I started doing films, and this experience of communally watching stuff you don’t get in television. For me, you get limited opportunities to watch people react to the thing that you slave over every detail of as a group. I have 300 people making our TV show right now, and we never get to see people watch it. That’s a really exciting part.

Villarreal: Fans are so savvy — they can rewatch, they can zoom in, they can pause and really look at details. Are you ever worried they’re going to get to the mystery before you’ve gotten there?

Fogelman: I screen ad nauseam. As an example, in our premiere, there’s an assassination attempt of the president in the premiere, and the guy doing the assassination attempt is a character that hides in plain sight throughout the series; then we get to the end, and that’s the murderer.

Villarreal: Spoiler alert.

Fogelman: But that actor’s mother, or longtime manager, was at the premiere and said to the actor, “I wish I got to see an episode you were in.” And he was like, “I was in that episode.” And she said, “What?” We do that level of testing where we feel pretty confident when it’s going out in the world, it’s not gonna get spoiled. But we were locking our pilot, the first episode, before Christmas, to air in January, and the big expensive shot was the big final shot that goes up and reveals the inner workings of the dome. I showed my brother-in-law and my sister-in law. My brother-in-law had taken way too many weed gummies, so he wasn’t the best audience, but at the end, he’s like, “Are they in outer space?” I kind of was like, “You’re so stoned. You need to stop with the weed gummies.” But then somebody else in the room was like, “Oh, I thought that for a second.” I went back into my writers; I was like, “Go screen it for your families more.” And one out of every 20 persons was having a misunderstanding that they were in a space station. So we went back and we spent a fortune — I had people work over the holidays because I got more granular. I was like, “What is it that’s saying space station to people?” And it was these red lights we had combined with a couple of other different lighting choices, and we went to the drawing board with our visual effects to make sure there was no confusion about what was going on at the end of it. I’ve always said good television is made by people who take it way too seriously. And I have like 20 people in my writers’ room and 300 people on my crew that take it really seriously and that’s part of it.

Villarreal: How does it compare to sort of the secrecy that surrounded “This Is Us”? There were red scripts, there were NDAs.

Fogelman: The world has moved faster now, so I’m less worried about it. “This Is Us” was an anomaly because it was so in the zeitgeist for a moment — “How did he die? What were the secrets?” But it was also so early in this moment of the internet and spoilers and whatnot that now I’ve kind of chilled out a little bit. I do “Only Murders in the Building,” and the showrunner of that show, John Hoffman, is very frenetic all the time that if one little Easter egg is in a trailer, it’s going to ruin the surprise for everybody. And I worry a little bit less now, maybe because I’m old and lazy, but I worry a little less. I think the media is pretty forgiving. I watch “Survivor,” it’s my favorite show, and I’m so tired of those blurbs you see on your timeline that they show the face of the person who got voted out the night before; it drives me absolutely insane. I have to like blur my vision all the time. I hate it. But I think for the most part, the media’s done a better job [with] if there’s a spoiler, you’re going to have to dig for it as opposed to it being accidentally in your face. I thought “White Lotus,” did it [well]; everybody was really responsible with it this year.

Villarreal: Inherent to this apocalyptic event is this idea of starting over, starting fresh and trying to correct some of the mistakes or errors of the past. What intrigued you about those existential questions at play here?

Fogelman: I think we’re all there a little bit right now. I had this idea 15 years ago, and the idea that everything was changing and it was quicksand under our feet was a little less prevalent back then. I was very drawn into the early years of “The Walking Dead” — those early seasons of that show were so good because ultimately it wasn’t about zombies or apocalypse, it was about, “If the s— hits your fan, what levels will you go to to protect the people you love? How far would you break bad?” I was interested in that notion. I was interested in the notion of putting a really good man in the center of it as opposed to an antihero. Because Sterling exudes decency as a human being, and this character is so hard and quiet and [an] old-school action hero. I was curious about what it was like to put that guy in that world, so that appealed to me.

I went to a little carnival recently, and my little boy wanted to get a balloon animal. He was really patiently waiting in line for the balloon animal. And I was watching him, and he was really patiently just waiting and waiting, and this mother kept coming over and bringing multiple kids and cutting the line in front of him because her kid was in front him, and she kept bringing friends and other kids. And I was using it as a case study and I was watching my little boy; I’m like, “I wonder how he’s gonna react.” He stood there patiently, but the balloon animal guy said “five more minutes and I’m packing up.” I was like, “Oh, is he gonna run out of time?” I was originally watching it as a case study on my little boy. Then I started filling with rage. And I was like, “I’m going to kill this woman. I’m going to have to go over and be the parent who says, ‘Excuse me, ma’am, your children are not in line for the balloon animal. My son is.’” And I was like, “No, don’t do it, don’t do it.” It fascinated me what started happening in me as I held back and didn’t say anything. And he got his balloon animal. He’s a spoiled little brat. He’s fine. But that stuff really intrigues me, especially if you raise the stakes to end of the world and all of that.

Villarreal: What did it make you think about in terms of the lengths you’ll go to?

Fogelman: I think we’d all go to extraordinary lengths. And whereas “The Walking Dead” focused on that, this focuses a little bit more on what the people in power do. As you learn more about Julianne’s character, Sinatra, [the question becomes], “What length will you go to save not just your own family but a portion of humanity? What are the right things to do in these situations?” And so it takes my balloon animal story and puts it on steroids a little. And that was really interesting to me.

Villarreal: Speaking of case studies, I feel like we’re living a case study right now in terms of a president and the people around him and the influence or power that they have. And obviously [the show] predates some of the [recent] headlines — whether it’s Trump and Elon Musk or whomever. What was the research you were seeing about the power dynamics in a role like that that were interesting to you at the time?

Fogelman: That really caught us off guard, the Elon Musk-president relationship, because there was one point in our third episode where, in a flashback, Julianne [as Sinatra] walks into the Oval Office from a side room, and I remember having my bulls— meter going off on my own television show going like, “Is this realistic? She’s not the chief of staff of this guy. Could she really be walking in and out of the Oval Office?” And lo and behold, here we are, all this time later. So I was like, “I guess it’s realistic.” Our research was actually somewhat more focused on the logistics of building a bunker city, of governing in a bunker city, of, “What would the electric vehicles be like? How would they source food and clothing?” There are so many more answers hidden in the production design of the show than you actually see onscreen. We had a dissertation written by a professor of sociology on how the best way to govern would be. A benevolent dictatorship was deemed the best form of government for this particular situation by people who said, “How would you keep people alive and in a functional way?” I’m not talking in the United States, I’m talking about in this bunker city. That’s what we think in our mind’s eye Sinatra had the research to see and say, “I’m going to try and do the right thing for all these people down below as best I can and try and keep the people at bay.” We did a lot of research on governance, on infrastructure, on things about nuclear and thermal energy that I can’t fathom nor understand, but that my writers all understood — how the place was powered and all of that. A little less on power dynamics between billionaires and power just because I think you kinda know what that is. It’s a lot of people in a room who are used to being the only person who everybody listens to.

Villarreal: But also, who do you trust? Cal [the president, played by James Marsden] has Xavier, he’s got Sinatra. It’s interesting to see whose input he takes in.

Fogelman: And ultimately, we try and make everybody fallible, but also everybody kind of have a point of view and a place where they’re coming from. I think in the second season of the show, you’ll see where Sinatra was coming from on the big picture even more. You kind of know where Marsden’s coming from, you know where Sterling’s coming form, and those are all the people pushing against one another in the show.

Villarreal: No matter what side of the political spectrum you fall on, I feel like everybody feels like we’re in a doomsday situation at the moment and change is needed. How do you create escapist TV at a time like this where people have issues on either side?

Fogelman: I remember when the show was coming out, having a degree of concern about that, just based off the timing and things I couldn’t control. We’ve been here in different ways before. When you look at all the periods of history, it always felt at different points of our history, like, “Oh my, wow, the sky is really falling. This is for real this time. This isn’t like it was for our parents’ generation or the generation before; this is worse.” The X factor right now that’s making people say, “No, this is the one that’s the worst” is the technology has shifted so dramatically. When the Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated, it was with a single person. Now those single people have much more scary stuff. The technology and the AI is much scarier. I wanted to make something that had climate change as a factor, but I also wanted to create a scenario that wouldn’t be the one that would keep people up at night. This is an extreme kind of worst-case scenario fluke occurrence that could happen. It’s based in some science, but it’s not the most likely way the world is going to end. We were trying to find ways so it could be palatable.

Villarreal: Thanks for that assurance because that was my concern. How likely is this to happen?

Fogelman: We have a writer on our show who’s one of the foremost experts on climate change.

Villarreal: Please talk about that.

Fogelman: Stephen Markley. He wrote a novel recently — it’s a masterpiece of a novel. He was hired for the show because of it — called “The Deluge.” Part of entertainment is we created a big tsunami and a big crazy action-adventure episode of television. The reality of climate change will happen quickly, but in less world-encompassing kind of ways. And if we don’t get on top of it, it’s a huge, huge catastrophe waiting to happen. As an example, and Stephen covers this in his book: I’m by no means a climate-change expert, but a lot of us roll our eyes when we talk about six inches of sea-level rise because it doesn’t seem like the thing that’s going to necessarily end the world. But along with the many, many, many, things that come along with that, when that inevitably happens, if we don’t stop, when parts of Miami go underwater, it won’t be a drowning of a half of a state or a city necessarily, because it will happen slowly and then quickly. What will happen is, as we’ve seen out here in California with the fires, you’re talking about an economic and housing collapse that will dwarf anything we saw in 2008. If you think about how hard it is to get your home insured now in California, just wait. That’s the stuff that’s less sexy than a tsunami sweeping over a 400-story building. But unless we get our heads out of our asses, it’s coming. Our balancing act is, “How do we make something not pedantic, make it entertainment, make it so that you can do it, but also maybe shake people a little at the same time?”

Villarreal: The conversations in that writers’ room must be insane — just TED Talks all the time.

Fogelman: It’s also a lot of fart jokes. It’s a nice balance. But it’s a heady, heady place. Season 2 deals with a lot really heady stuff, and I try and understand it as best I can and then let the smart people battle it out.

Villarreal: I want to get into some of the details of the show because details make everything. Can you talk to me about why Wii?

Fogelman: We just thought it was funny. But also, in Season 2, you’ll learn the origin of the Wii for Jane. Our sixth episode that we’re shooting right now actually is called “Jane,” and it’s her backstory episode.

Villarreal: How about the fries? How did you land on the cashew cheese fries?

Fogelman: We landed on the fries primarily because we decided there would be no dairy down below because having real dairy would require so much maintenance of chickens and eggs and infrastructure and animals and cows that it wouldn’t be feasible. Cashew and nut cheese was the thing that they would put on cheese fries. We thought it was an interesting way of making it a key clue in the show, but that also tied into where they were and what they don’t have.

Villarreal: Are we going to learn any of the other songs on Cal’s mixtape? Are they important?

Fogelman: No, there is another song that plays heavily towards the end of our season from his oeuvre of music, but no. We’re actually getting very Elvis-heavy [in] Season 2, not related to Cal’s music. That’s a little bit of a spoiler.

Villarreal: Can you talk about Phil Collins of it all and finding that cover? Was it originally like, “We want the Phil Collins version”? Or “We want this really eerie, scary version”?

Fogelman: Originally, the show was called “Paradise City,” and the song at the end was Guns N’ Roses’ “Paradise City.” Then I soured on it as a title and it made the song being the song less important. When I got my first editor’s cut of the pilot, she had found that cover — Julia [Grove], our editor — and put it in. And I was like, “Oh, yeah, that’s it. That’s the one.” In my mind, I always thought it would probably be a cover of one of those two songs. I don’t know why, because there’s something about ’80s music — you’re really on a fine line when you use it on a show or in a movie; it can get funny quickly, even if accidentally. Like, “We Built This City,” if you put that in without it being a cover, it makes you smile, but maybe in the wrong way in the genre of television. We felt that it would be good to use covers from the very beginning that could evoke the songs but kind of transform them a little bit.

Villarreal: This show has you thinking about budgets in a different way because you’re dealing with special effects or action scenes in a way you weren’t on “This Is Us.” What’s a scene from the series we’d be surprised got a lot of notes because you have to be like, “I don’t know if we can do it this grand because this is what we’re working with…”?

Fogelman: We never got that. We have a really great studio and network that work with us. We’re given the money we have, and then it’s how we choose to use it. We knew Episode 7 was going to be an expensive episode for us where you show the world actually ending. So what we would do is on Episodes 5 and 6, if we needed to cut a corner here or there, we would do that to save up the money for that. But we never really had that on this show. We also stayed on budget. I’m sure we would have had that if we were over budget, but we never really had that.

Villarreal: You’re about to get the showrunner of the year award, and as a fellow writer who’s very fearful of ever becoming management, I’m very interested to know how your creative process has changed since becoming a showrunner.

Fogelman: It’s a big job. I don’t always relish it. I was with a group of showrunners the other night for a different thing, and we were all just lamenting how exhausted and miserable we all were — in a funny way, because we also all love it. The management is tough. You’re the CEO of a large company. I say 200, 300 people, [but] it’s really 1,000 people when you talk about the people who day play and do special effects and visual effects and all of the stuff. It’s a lot of bodies, and you’re managing a lot of people, and managing people is the hardest part of your job. It takes up a lot time. I don’t go to set very much anymore. I did at the beginning of my showrunning career because I felt like I should and because I wanted to be there because I was the boss. And I started realizing it was just not a good use of my time. I mainly focus on writing, breaking the episodes, writing them and editing them, and that’s where my time goes. But you need to be there for people. On any given day, there’s somebody on your crew who’s not happy with something, and you’re putting out those fires. It’s a tremendous amount of work. One of the things that’s been striking to me, and I say this to people all the time, is, at the end of “This Is Us,” I would make gestures to people who worked on the show, whatever they were, but what would stand out more than anything, and I always felt like it was doing so little, [was] to write somebody a note on stationery. And I was constantly struck by how much it meant to people to be individually seen. People are really kind of lovely and great and don’t require that much. They just wanna be seen and they want their work to be seen. And it’s the difference between writing a little note to somebody that says, “You’re doing a great job” versus “I saw what you did on Tuesday, on Thursday, with that scene, and it’s not lost on me, and I see you, and I appreciate you.” It takes one minute of my time, but I’ve learned how meaningful it can be to people. You try to be better at it and then you inevitably fail. If you were a decent person, you go home and you’re scolding yourself, but it’s been an eye-opening, weird experience.

Villarreal: Well, before we wrap, I know we talked earlier backstage that you’re about halfway through shooting Season 2. What can you share?

Fogelman: I’m really excited about it. I just started editing. Like you said, I show people stuff all too much. And so I’ve just started editing the first two [episodes] and they’re really good.

Villarreal: How soon do things pick up?

Fogelman: Right after. It’s a slightly different show at times in the second season in that part of the season lives outside in the world. We’ve lived almost entirely claustrophobically inside the bunker [so far], and we do live there a lot in [Season 2] and pick up directly from where we left that world. But you’re also living in Sterling’s story and the story of the people he comes across, and those stories eventually collide. It’s a different, exciting show. Shailene Woodley joins the cast this year. I just wrote her a note. She’s extraordinary in the show. I’m really excited for people to see her in it. When you’re doing something different, it’s exciting and daunting, and that’s the best kind of feeling. You’re like, “Oh, I’m not dead inside. I’m very excited about this season.”

Villarreal: Is there something that won’t make sense now but will when we watch?

Fogelman: Elvis.

Villarreal: Any other people from “This Is Us” making an appearance?

Fogelman: Right now, yes, there’s a few. I’m careful about it because I don’t want it to get distracting with Sterling. I did a show called “Galavant,” and one of my actors in it, Tim Omundson, was one of my favorite actors ever, and he had a part in “This Is Us” and now is joining in a part here. There’s another one that I think they’ll yell at me if I announce it, but it’s smaller. I’m always looking at stuff to do with those guys. I just saw Mandy [Moore] and Chris Sullivan the other day, and I’m always looking for stuff for those guys; Milo [Ventimiglia] and Justin [Hartley] and all those guys.

WAILUKU, Hawaii — From the moment the Rams landed in Maui, Puka Nacua embraced the spotlight and provided sunshine vibes.

The star receiver, with several colorful leis draping his shoulders, turned heads upon arrival at a Monday night luau.

The next morning, flag football players excitedly buzzed “It’s Puka!” as he entered War Memorial Stadium for a Rams workout and clinic. That afternoon, autograph seekers lined up 100-deep for an exclusive afternoon Puka-centric event at a team pop-up store.

On Wednesday, several thousands of fans showed up to see the Rams’ public workout, dozens of them wearing Nacua jerseys.

Nacua, who is of Hawaiian, Samoan and Portuguese descent, welcomed the attention with open arms.

Rams wide receiver Puka Nacua signs autographs for fans after minicamp practice in Wailuku, Hawaii, on Tuesday.

(Gary Klein / Los Angeles Times)

“These are people who have similar backgrounds to me,” Nacua said this week. “This is how I was raised — to call everybody Auntie and Uncle, and to be with them and give hugs and kisses, and to eat a lot of food with them.

“This feels like home.”

Nacua, 24, is clearly comfortable in his role.

He is the latest Polynesian NFL star, joining players such as Detroit Lions offensive tackle Penei Sewell and Philadelphia Eagles tackle Jordan Mailata.

Nacua burst onto the NFL scene in 2023 with a record-setting rookie season. His boundless enthusiasm, physical style and daring athletic catches thrilled fans and showed Polynesian athletes that opportunity and success at a so-called skill position was in their grasp.

Linebacker Junior Seau, safety Troy Polamalu and center Kevin Mawae are Polynesian players enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Nacua is respectful of the players who paved the way for his opportunity, citing Marcus Mariota, JuJu Smith-Schuster and Polamalu as just a few of the many that led the way.

He aims to show that opportunity exists beyond “the trenches” for aspiring Polynesian athletes.

“It makes it super exciting,” he said, “because the skill positions are coming.”

The influence of Polynesian pro players dates to the 1940s, when offensive lineman Al Lolotai played for Washington. In the 1950s, offensive lineman Charlie Ane twice made the Pro Bowl and won two NFL championships with the Detroit Lions.

Ane returned to Hawaii and tutored a young offensive lineman named Norm Chow. Chow played at Utah and coached as an assistant at Brigham Young, North Carolina State, USC, the NFL’s Tennessee Titans, UCLA and Utah before Hawaii in 2011 made him the first Asian American head coach at a major college program.

Watching Nacua’s ascent has been gratifying for the Hawaiian-born Chow.

“It’s a cool deal,” Chow said. “He’s a tough guy.”

Rams wide receiver Puka Nacua, left, shares a laugh with linebacker Tony Fields II during organized team activities in Woodland Hills on June 3.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Toughness was a hallmark for Polynesian players such as Jesse Sapolu, an interior lineman on four San Francisco 49ers Super Bowl-title teams. Sapolu was twice voted to the Pro Bowl during a career that spanned from 1983 to 1997.

In those days, Sapolu said a dearth of Polynesian players in the NFL led him to study the schedule each year and identify the teams that included Polynesians.

“I’d look five weeks down the line at the roster,” Sapolu said, “and put it in the back of my mind, ‘I can’t wait for that week so I can say hello to that person.’”

Sapolu is the co-founder and chairman of the Hawaii-based Polynesian Football Hall of Fame. He has known Nacua since 2019, when Nacua played in the organization’s annual high school All-Star game. As an ambassador for the 49ers, Sapolu was on the sideline at Levi’s Stadium in 2023 when Nacua broke the NFL record for catches and receiving yards by a rookie.

“This generation is looking at this picture with a broader lens,” Sapolu said. “We still have the top linemen … but now we’ve got the Puka Nacuas coming up that Polynesian kids can say ‘Hey, you know, not only can I be big and strong, I can also be skinny and fast and go out there and do things that Puka is doing.’”

Manti Te’o grew up in Hawaii. In 2009, he was one of the most highly recruited players in the U.S. before going on to star at linebacker for Notre Dame and playing eight NFL seasons.

Te’o, an NFL Network analyst, has a home in Utah. He recalls watching Nacua play at BYU, where he displayed tenacity, physicality and fearlessness that harked to Smith-Schuster, the former USC star who has played eight NFL seasons. Nacua’s humility and the way he represented his family and community also stood out, Te’o said.

Carolina Panthers wide receiver Tetairoa McMillan participates in a rookie minicamp on April 25. The former Servite High School standout was selected eighth overall in the 2025 NFL draft.

(Chris Carlson / Associated Press)

Nacua’s success might have helped pave the way for former Arizona receiver Tetairoa McMillan, selected by the Carolina Panthers with the eighth pick in the 2025 draft.

“They’re starting to believe that they can be more than just the typical O-lineman,” Te’o said. “It’s nice to see that transition and progression.”

Mariota helped lay the groundwork. He grew up in Hawaii, starred at quarterback for Oregon, became the first Polynesian player to win the Heisman Trophy and was selected by the Tennessee Titans with the second pick in the 2015 draft.

Mariota, who will begin his second season with the Washington Commanders, pointed to Jack “The Throwin’ Samoan” Thompson, Jason Gesser, Timmy Chang and Darnell Arceneaux as Samoan and Hawaiian-born quarterbacks who paved the way for him.

“I really value some of these guys that played before me, and what they were able to do, and what they went through to allow me to even have the chance to play quarterback,” Mariota said.

Rams wide receiver Puka Nacua runs a passing route at organized team activities on June 3.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Tua Tagovailoa of the Miami Dolphins and Cleveland Browns rookie Dillon Gabriel followed Mariota to play quarterback in college and the NFL.

Now, Nacua is showing other Polynesian athletes that they don’t have to be “loopholed” to play as a lineman or linebacker, Mariota said.

“Guys like Puka and guys across the league are really taking this Polynesian generation to the next level,” Mariota said. “So, it’s cool to see him, and I’m excited to see what’s next because this is just the beginning.”

This fall, Jayden Maiava is expected to start at quarterback for USC, Nico Iamaleava for UCLA.

Maiava said Mariota and Tagovailoa “set the example and set the tone” for him as a quarterback.

Nacua’s example as a Rams receiver also inspires, he said.

“Just to wake up and hit that standard he sets every single day,” Maiava said. “It’s something to look up to and gives a young kid like me something to strive for, and one day hope we can get there.”

The Rams returned to Hawaii for the first time since 2019, when they played a preseason game against the Dallas Cowboys on Oahu.

In Maui, they opened a pop-up for five days in Wailea that featured merchandise designed by Aaron Kai, an Hawaiian artist who lives in Los Angeles.

Sales were brisk, but the main event was Nacua’s appearance.

Joshua Cabjuan traveled from Oahu to Maui to have Rams wide receiver Puka Nacua sign a replica of Nacua’s high school jersey.

(Gary Klein / Los Angeles Times)

Joshua Cabjuan, 21, of Oahu purchased caps, a hoodie and other items. He said he met Nacua at the Polynesian Bowl a few years ago, so he brought a replica of Nacua’s Orem (Utah) high school jersey to be signed.

“He was really excited, like, ‘Whoa, this is crazy — I haven’t seen this in so long,’” Cabjuan said.

Kristin Domingo of Maui had always been a Lakers and Dodgers fan. Becoming a Rams and Nacua fan, she said, naturally followed.

“We support anyone who comes from the islands or is of Hawaiian descent,” she said after Nacua signed a jersey.

And what does she like about Nacua?

“He’s an excellent wide receiver,” she said. “He kicks ass on the field.”

Kiara Nishimura, left, and Peyton Koerte of Kauai hold up jerseys autographed by Puka Nacua.

(Gary Klein / Los Angeles Times)

Peyton Koerte, 12, and Kiara Nishimura, 14, from Kauai each emerged with a signed Nacua jersey.

Why Nacua?

“We picked him for our draft in fantasy football,” Peyton said.

For decades the NFL’s Pro Bowl was played in Hawaii.

Te’o remembers watching players such as Rams stars Kurt Warner and Isaac Bruce in person.

“To see them play allowed me to dream big,” Te’o said.

Nacua hopes the Rams’ visit to Maui has a similar effect, and that it uplifts an island that was ravaged by the 2023 wildfire that destroyed much of Lahaina.

In remarks at the Rams welcome luau, Maui County Mayor Richard T. Bissen Jr. noted that the team donated more than $260,000 in initial relief and helped spur donations from other pro teams of $450,000 to the American Red Cross.

He also recalled attending a football camp in Maui overseen by former Rams quarterback Roman Gabriel in the 1970s.

“Thank you for what you’re going to do for our youth in the next couple of days, uplifting them and teaching them,” he said, adding that perhaps the next Puka Nacua might be among the attendees.

Rams wide receiver Puka Nacua shakes hands with a youth flag football player during a clinic drill at Rams minicamp on Tuesday.

(Gary Klein / Los Angeles Times)

Nacua was thankful to help play a role in healing.

“To know the support that you want to give to those people who are going through that issue, and to see how it can change and bring the community closer together in that time, I think our team has felt that,” Nacua said.

Nacua once looked up to players such as Mariota and Smith-Schuster. Now, young players are looking up to him.

“The discipline to have the consistency to go out there and perform very well, I feel like those are things that are staples in the Polynesian community,” he said.

Rams wide receiver Puka Nacua runs a drill at the team’s minicamp in Maui on Tuesday.

(Bryce Todd / Los Angeles Rams)

Nacua will return to Los Angeles and begin preparing for training camp and a season of high expectations. The Rams are regarded as potential Super Bowl contenders, with an offense that includes star quarterback Matthew Stafford and new star receiver Davante Adams.

But Nacua will not soon forget his time in Maui.

And he will have plenty of reminders.

“I’m sure I’m going to have 50 leis by the time I go home,” he said.

Duhhhh-nuh. Duhh-nuh. …

Friday marks 50 years since the 1975 film “Jaws” from Steven Spielberg introduced audiences to that infamous John Williams movie score — and the fear that they should clearly feel over the great white shark lurking just beneath their feet, waiting to chomp down on their dangling legs as they enjoy a day at the beach.

Except, over the past six decades, marine biologists like Chris Lowe at the Shark Lab at Cal State Long Beach have found that great white sharks and their selachian counterparts not only don’t want to eat humans but also would like to avoid us if at all possible.

“Believe it or not, a lot of the times they’re big babies. They’re big scaredy-cats,” Lowe told me.

As part of the series I’ve completed over the last year in The Wild, exploring how to react should you see a potentially dangerous animal on the trail, I spoke to Lowe, who has studied sharks for the past 35 years, about how you should react if you see a great white shark in the wild.

Lowe said that unlike 50 years ago when “Jaws” was filmed — where sharks’ populations were so low that even the “Jaws” filmmakers could barely find a shark in the ocean to record — the great white shark population has bounced back thanks to conservation efforts.

“Sharks are probably swimming by people way more often than they would ever imagine — they just don’t know they’re there,” Lowe said. “I think your chances of seeing a shark, any shark — a white shark, a leopard shark, a bull shark, a tiger shark, no matter where you go — is actually getting much better.”

Cal State Long Beach Shark Lab student assistant Julianne Santos shows Huntington Beach junior lifeguards a white shark jaw during a July 2023 presentation.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Please note that my conversation with Lowe focused on how a beachgoer should react if they see a great white shark off the coast of a Southern California beach, and I primarily asked him for tips for folks swimming or snorkeling. The Shark Lab has a great short guide for surfers, and there is other guidance available for spearfishers.

All right, no need for a bigger boat. Let’s dive in.

1. Observe the shark’s behavior

You’re swimming in the ocean, perhaps snorkeling, and you see a great white shark swimming about 20 feet from you. First, “take a deep breath and go, ‘Wow, that’s so cool,’” Lowe said.

Next, observe what the shark is doing. Is it relaxed? Has it spotted you yet?

Lowe said that oftentimes, you will see a shark because the animal wanted you to or allowed you to see it. The majority of human-shark encounters in Southern California occur without the human ever knowing it happened.

“We see it all the time from our drones — they’ll come up behind people, and in fact get what I would consider uncomfortably close to people, and then it’s almost like [they think,] ‘OK, that’s not what I thought it was,’ and then they just turn and take off,” he said.

I asked what uncomfortably close means, thinking 15 feet, 10 feet. “Three feet,” Lowe told me.

2. Keep your eye on the shark

“Let the shark know you see it,” Lowe said. “As the shark is swimming around you, you should pivot to always face the shark. That is part of this body communication that all animals use. If you’re ever threatened, do you ever turn your back on the threat?” (No.)

Move calmly and naturally as you float in the water. Do not throw anything at the shark or jerk around.

Most often, this is where the encounter ends, Lowe said. If the shark doesn’t feel threatened, you’ll observe the shark until it leaves the vicinity, and then you can alert a lifeguard of what you saw.

3. If you suddenly lose track of the shark, look behind you

You might have (even accidentally) startled the shark by moving too quickly.

When Lowe and his students go out into the ocean to tag sharks, they will pull up next to a shark and start recording it with a camera and taking other measurements. But if they startle it or if the shark feels threatened, the shark almost always loops around and tries to get behind the boat. It’ll do the same if you scare it.

People mistake this as the shark stalking them. “Actually, no,” Lowe said. “That’s how it’s investigating you safely. People forget these animals are just as much worried about their safety as we are [worried about ours].”

Researchers with the Shark Lab at the Cal State Long Beach have found that sharks and humans swim together at some California beaches more often than previously thought.

(Carlos Gauna / Cal State Long Beach)

4. Keep your distance as you keep watching the shark

If a shark feels threatened, it will arch its back and drop its fins and start an exaggerated slow-motion swimming behavior, Lowe said. “They will open their mouths, they’ll bear their teeth,” similar to an angry cat, he said.

You should, if you haven’t already, start to back away slowly from the shark, maintaining eye contact. Unlike the movies when people thrash out of the water, you want to backpedal at a normal speed. Remember, this animal is likely scared too.

Do not move toward the shark. “If you chase that shark, if you pursue it, it will break out of that behavior, and it will rush in and bite. And then it will take off,” Lowe said. “That’s a defensive response.”

5. If the shark gets in your space, bop it on the nose

Hopefully your encounter has ended by now, as this next tip is for exceedingly rare instances when a shark is getting in your space.

If you’ve been backing away from the shark, and it keeps coming toward you, getting within arm’s length, give it a “good pop to the nose,” Lowe said.

“The animal has to know you’ll defend yourself,” he said.

How hard should you strike its nose? “It’s not a little flick, it’s not a hand wave,” Lowe said. “You want the animal to know you will defend yourself because, in many cases, they are just as afraid of getting hurt as you are. A little bop on the nose quite often is enough to stop that from happening, and of course, you keep backing up. That’s the best you can do in those circumstances.”

6. If attacked, fight back with all you’ve got

If the shark bites you, you should punch it in the nostrils, eyes and gills. “There are pretty good eyewitness accounts of people fighting back, and that making a difference and then getting the shark to release. And in some cases, they don’t even see the shark after that,” Lowe said.

Most sharks bite once and leave.

Like other apex predators in California, sharks have in rare instances attacked and, in even rarer instances, killed people.

In the past 75 years, there have been about 223 shark incidents in California, with “incident” defined as a documented encounter where a shark touched a person or their surfboard, paddleboard, kayak, etc., according to the California Department of Fish and Wildlife.

Of that, at least 195 of the incidents involved white sharks. None of the 16 fatal shark incidents in California occurred in L.A. County.

These numbers feel even lower when you consider that millions of people visit California’s beaches every year.

Even with the large number of white sharks present along Southern California beaches, swimming and recreating along the coastline remains a largely safe activity, Lowe said. (In terms of risks, you’re much more likely to step on a stingray.)

I hope you will never need these tips and instead have great experiences this summer on our beautiful beaches.

I have to admit that, as someone who grew up in the landlocked state of Oklahoma, I came into this conversation with a lot of fear. It doesn’t help that my wife watches the Discovery Channel’s Shark Week every year. But after talking to Lowe, I feel about sharks like I do about bears and mountain lions. They live here too, and when we visit their homes, we could see them. More often than not, they mean us no harm and want to be left alone to live their lives — just like we do ours.

“People need to stop thinking of these animals as nothing more than these mindless animals,” Lowe said. “They are more like us than [people] think. If somebody was invading your personal spaces, you should defend yourself. You will defend yourself, whether you do it innately or not. The animals will do the same. If they feel threatened, they will protect themselves.”

3 things to do

Note: Out of concern for the safety of community members who could be targeted in ICE raids, multiple outdoors events have been postponed this week. Please check before heading out to make sure the activity you’re attending is still happening.

Visitors take a guided nature hike during an open house at the Chatsworth Nature Preserve by the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power in celebration of Earth Day on April 23, 2022.

(Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times)

1. Hike on the longest day of the year in Chatsworth
The Chatsworth Nature Preserve will host a summer solstice event from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. Saturday featuring guided hikes, storytelling, live animal exhibits and more. Guests should wear hats and comfy shoes and they should bring refillable water bottles and sunscreen. Dogs are not allowed. Visitors should enter through the Valley Circle Boulevard gate, west of Plummer Street. Learn more at ladwp.com.

2. Tend to trees near Malibu
The Resource Conservation District of the Santa Monica Mountains needs volunteers from 9 a.m. to noon Saturday to care for newly planted oak trees in Nicholas Flat in Leo Carrillo State Park. Participants will water, weed and mulch around newly planted trees and possibly plant acorns to replace trees that died. Volunteers will also collect data for a reforestation project. Volunteers should wear comfortable clothing and durable shoes. Register at eventbrite.com.

3. Celebrate inclusivity and nature in San Dimas
L.A. County Parks and Recreation will host Pride Outside at 5 p.m. Friday at the San Dimas Canyon Nature Center (1628 N. Sycamore Canyon Road in San Dimas). The event will include a hike alongside representatives from Pomona Valley Pride, which is partnering with the county for the event. Learn more at the park’s Instagram page.

The must-read

A view of the Chuckwalla Mountains. President Biden established Chuckwalla National Monument shortly before leaving office, protecting over 600,000 acres of public lands in the California desert.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

The Chuckwalla National Monument, a 624,000-acre desert landscape next to Joshua Tree National Park, faces an increased threat of losing its federal monument status after a recent ruling from the Department of Justice. Times staff writer Lila Seidman reports that a May 27 legal opinion by President Trump’s DOJ overturns a more than 80-year-old Justice Department determination that presidents can’t revoke national monuments created by their predecessors under the Antiquities Act. This opens a wide window for Trump to dismantle Chuckwalla and the Sáttítla Highlands near the Oregon border, which President Biden established as national monuments shortly before leaving office. “Whether presidents have the authority to alter monuments is hotly contested,” Seidman wrote. “Litigation challenging Trump’s previous monument reductions was still pending when Biden reversed them and the matter was never settled.” We’ll keep you posted on what happens next.

Happy adventuring,

P.S.

The Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority, which manages more than 75,000 acres of public land around L.A. County, announced this week that it is reopening multiple hiking areas closed in response to the Palisades fire. This includes the popular Escondido Canyon Park & Falls, which I’m eager to see, and San Vicente Mountain Park. A few Wilders, who recently emailed me regarding trail closures, will be happy to hear Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park and Mandeville Canyon are reopening too. You can read more about other recent trail reopenings here.

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.

The two New York teams dropped by Dodger Stadium a couple of weeks ago, first the Yankees and then the Mets, and broadcasters for each team made sure to complain about how loud it was.

“The Dodger Stadium center field speakers are in full assault mode,” Yankees radio voice Dave Sims tweeted.

On the ESPN Sunday night broadcast from Dodger Stadium that week, Karl Ravech introduced an in-game interview with the Dodgers’ Tommy Edman this way: “He’s in center field now, being blasted by, I think, arguably the loudest speaker system I have ever heard in my life.”

Notwithstanding the audacity of New Yorkers whining about someone else’s volume, the broadcasters did lend their distinguished voices to a long-running debate among Dodgers fans: Is it loud at Dodger Stadium, or is it too loud?

“It’s just all part of an entertainment show,” Mookie Betts said. “There is no ‘too loud.’”

Organists Helen Dell and Nancy Bea Hefley soothed generations of fans, but the traditional soundtrack to a Dodgers game has gone the way of $10 parking and outfield walls free of advertisements. The fan experience now includes a finely choreographed production at virtually every moment except when the ball is in play, and that includes recorded music, cranked up.

“We don’t make it louder just to make it louder,” said Lon Rosen, the Dodgers’ executive vice president and chief marketing officer. “It’s all part of what fits in the presentation.”

And the players, the ones whose performance determines whether the Dodgers win or lose, love the presentation.

“I think it’s great,” Clayton Kershaw said. “Even on the road, I’d rather have that than quiet. St. Louis was just really quiet. It almost felt like golf at times.

“The louder, the more fun, the better. The Dodgers have the best sound system out there. So why not use it?”

Said former Dodgers closer Kenley Jansen: “When I used to come out to ‘California Love,’ that thing used to bang. The bass they have, you can feel that thing shake in your chest.”

Just how loud is it at the ballpark?

To find out, I downloaded a decibel meter and visited Southern California’s three major league ballparks during an eight-day span this month. At Dodger Stadium, I walked around the ballpark, and up and down to different levels, but the readings were relatively consistent no matter where someone might be sitting.

Bottom line: It’s pleasant at Angel Stadium, lively at Petco Park, booming at Dodger Stadium.

Caveat: Even with all other things equal, it always will be louder at Dodger Stadium. The Dodgers sell 50,000 tickets to a game more often than not; no other major league ballpark even holds 50,000.

At 60 and 30 minutes before game time, as fans settled into the ballpark, Angel Stadium and Petco Park registered in the 65-75 dB range, roughly the sound of a normal conversation on the low end and household appliances on the high end.

The introduction of the home team lineup registered in the 80-85 dB range at Angel Stadium, 85-90 dB at Petco Park, and 90-95 dB at Dodger Stadium, roughly the sound of a noisy restaurant at the low end and power tools on the high end.

The high-end levels would be hazardous if sustained throughout the evening, but sounds ebb and flow as the game does. (Decibel levels are measured logarithmically, so an increase of 10 dB means sound is heard 10 times louder and an increase of 20 dB means sound is heard 100 times louder.)

The highest levels at any stadium occur not when a voice pleads “Get loud!” or “Everybody clap your hands!” but organically, as the result of a big moment in the game.

My decibel meter hit 100 dB twice during my three test games: immediately after the Angels’ Travis d’Arnaud homered in Anaheim, and as the Dodgers’ Will Smith slid safely into home plate with the tying run at Dodger Stadium, as the opposing catcher tagged him but dropped the ball.

What distinguishes the Dodger Stadium experience is the hour or so before the game starts. The Angels offer music, spotlight fans on the video board, and “invite you to enjoy the hospitality of Angel Stadium.” The Dodgers impose a relentlessly loud pregame show, with hype guys and hype girls, pounding away well above the 65-75 dB levels in Anaheim and San Diego, with dB readings into the 80s.

A Dodger Stadium screen encourages fans to be loud during Monday’s game against the San Diego Padres at Dodger Stadium.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

The Dodgers’ pregame show attempts to force anticipation upon the audience, as if that is somehow necessary. It’s not. You’re about to see Shohei Ohtani!

There is always something happening before the game in the center field plaza: a band, product giveaways, Instagram-worthy photo opportunities, the live pregame broadcast for SportsNet LA. You can get hyped there, if you like. Or you can enjoy a conversation with your friends in your seats, instead of getting a headache before the game even starts.

Tyler Anderson, who pitches for the Angels now and used to pitch for the Dodgers, said he finds no fault in the traditional way of presenting the game, or in the Dodgers’ way.

“It’s like you’re trying to turn that venue into one of the best bars in town, where you just go to the bar and listen to loud music and people are having a good time,” Anderson said. “I think that’s the atmosphere they’re trying to create. It’s a fun atmosphere for the fans too.

The center field plaza area at Dodger Stadium is always a lively spot for fans before a game.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

“And then some places are more family-based. They’d rather have kids and older families, and young kids and grandkids coming to games. They probably have less of a party atmosphere and less of a bar kind of atmosphere.

“There is no right or wrong way.”

In his ESPN in-game interview, Edman called the Dodgers’ sound system both “absolutely absurd” and “great.”

I asked Edman about that seeming contradiction.

“That was one of the things that stuck out to me my first time playing here, just how loud the speakers are,” he said. “You can’t hear yourself think.”

He got used to it, and to how he need not be distracted because the sound shuts off “once the play actually starts.” He likes it now.

“It makes it more fun,” he said. “It’s like a big league game.”

The Dodgers’ game presentation is creative and compelling. And, instead of eliminating the beloved organ, the Dodgers include talented organist Dieter Ruehle as part of the show. Really, just tone down the pregame hour, and we’re good.

Rosen shrugged off the notion that the Dodgers should tone down anything. If fans did not enjoy the production, he wondered, why would they keep packing Dodger Stadium?

“It’s really not any louder than any other of the more popular stadiums,” Rosen said.

He might be onto something. Veteran baseball columnist Bob Klapisch reported that, during last month’s Yankees-Mets series at Yankee Stadium, “the decibel levels at the stadium routinely reached the mid-90s.”

That, Mr. Yankee Announcer, would be “full assault mode.”

The first time Gene Kozicki drove to Lompoc to see a rocket blast off from Vandenberg Space Force Base, it was night, and the whole scene reminded him of the movie “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” The road was blocked off. There were police. Flashing lights. A guy standing near Kozicki had a radio scanner, and they listened as a spartan voice counted down: Ten, nine, eight, seven … Over the hill, where the rocket was on the pad, all was dark.

And then it wasn’t.

“The sky lights up, and it’s like daytime,” Kozicki said. “This rocket comes up and then a few seconds later, the sound hits you. It’s just this roar and rumble, and then it’s a crackle. And then you look at it and you realize, this thing is not a movie. This thing is actually going into space.”

People (and dogs) gather in Lompoc to watch SpaceX successfully launch a Falcon 9 rocket. (George Rose / Getty Images)

Kozicki told me about that experience as we both stood atop a sand dune at Surf Beach, just outside Lompoc, waiting for a different rocket to launch. Through my binoculars I could see a SpaceX Falcon 9 Block 5 on the pad at Vandenberg, with a Starlink satellite on top. SpaceX and other companies have been sending up more and more rockets in recent years, and Lompoc has become a day trip destination for aerospace aficionados.

With Blue Origin sending up an all-female crew, including Katy Perry, Gayle King and Lauren Sanchez, from West Texas in April and my social feeds full of pics of launches from California’s Central Coast — not to mention SpaceX founder Elon Musk’s preternatural ability to stay in the news — it seemed like everyone was talking about rockets, so I wanted to get as close to a liftoff as possible.

I had driven to Surf Beach on the advice of Bradley Wilkinson, who runs the Facebook group Vandenberg Rocket Launches. When asked for the best spot to experience a launch, Wilkinson had responded, in the manner typical of connoisseurs, with questions of his own.

“Do you want to see it?” Wilkinson asked me. “Do you want to feel it? Do you want to hear it?”

If I had just wanted to see it, he said, I could do that easily from Los Angeles. If I picked a launch around twilight, I could even see the jellyfish effect that happens when sunlight reflects off the rocket plume. (People all across Southern California had that experience earlier this week.) But I wanted more. I wanted to hear and feel the launch, so I took off toward Vandenburg on a clear Friday afternoon, staying just ahead of traffic.

Rocket launches have become more frequent at Vandenberg Space Force Base, located in Santa Barbara County.

(Anadolu Agency via Getty Images)

Not everyone is a fan of the increased frequency of SpaceX launches. Beyond the many controversies surrounding the company’s founder, there are concerns about the effects of sonic booms on the environment, and the California Coastal Commission has been battling SpaceX in court over the need for permits. Some Lompoc residents have complained about the effects of all that rumbling on their houses, but others, like Wilkinson, enjoy living so close to the action; he said he doesn’t even bother straightening the pictures on the walls of his house anymore.

As I drove up the coast, I kept checking the Facebook group for updates. Launches can be scrubbed for any number of reasons, and Wilkinson and other members of the group, including Kozicki, have become adept at reading signs: They track the weather; they watch the rocket’s movement toward the pad; they monitor SpaceX’s website and social media.

I pulled into the Surf Beach parking lot about an hour before launch, and that’s where I met Kozicki, chatting with a SpaceX engineer and her mother. The engineer was off the clock, but that didn’t stop her mom from telling everyone, proudly, that her daughter worked at SpaceX. It became a refrain for the next hour:

“You should ask my daughter. She works at SpaceX.”

“Stop telling everyone I work at SpaceX!”

From the top of the dunes, the four of us watched the launchpad for telltale signs of exhaust. I thought of how, thousands of miles away, crowds in St. Peter’s Square had watched for white smoke with a similar feeling of anticipation. Other spectators soon crunched across the ice plants and joined us on our perch. Some of them had parked in a bigger lot to the north and followed the train tracks that ran parallel to the beach.

The SpaceX engineer answered questions about rocket stages and landing burns. She was not authorized to speak to the media, but she shared her knowledge with everyone her mom sent her way.

We all watched and waited. More people walked up the dunes, including Dan Tauber, who said he’d been motorcycling around the area with friends before deciding to break off from the group to experience the launch.

“You want to feel your bones rattle,” he said. “So why not get as close as you can?”

Kozicki announced to the group that we’d know the launch was about to happen — really about to happen — when we saw a deluge of water on the pad. Then it would be a matter of seconds before liftoff.

Tauber and I sat together in the sand. We watched and waited. He had been a firefighter in San Francisco. He now lived in San Diego. We watched. We waited. A southbound Pacific Surfliner train pulled up alongside the parking lot. The railroad bell kept ringing, adding to the tension.

“Deluge!” shouted Kozicki.

“Deluge!” shouted the SpaceX engineer’s mother.

Three seconds later, ignition. Fire. Smoke. Liftoff.

Cameras clicked.

Someone shouted, “Whoa!”

I might’ve done the same.

A SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket lifts off. Vandenberg Space Force Base has hosted 836 rocket launches to date.

(Patrick T. Fallon / AFP via Getty Images)

The sound of the rocket came next, just as Kozicki had described. Roar. Rumble. Crackle.

Tauber leaned back and said, “I’m just going to enjoy it. Take pictures for me.”

The rocket rose in the blue sky. I managed to get a few pics, but the flames were so bright that my camera’s settings went haywire. I put the camera down and watched the rocket go up, up, up. Then it was gone. Awestruck, I stood around, wanting more. I wasn’t sure where to go afterwards.

I knew I would be back.

Tips for experiencing a Vandenberg rocket launch

Find an upcoming launch

Start with a site like SpaceLaunchSchedule.com. There are many reasons why a launch could get scrubbed, however, so Wilkinson suggests checking the Vandenberg Rocket Launches group about 12 hours before a liftoff is scheduled to see whether it’s actually going to happen. The final authority for SpaceX launches would be SpaceX.com.

If you just want to see the rocket, go outside when there’s a liftoff scheduled for twilight or later. Depending on the weather, you should be able to see the rocket streaking across the Los Angeles sky.

For a closer look, head toward Lompoc

Surf Beach is a good spot, although the parking lot can fill up quickly. There is another parking lot to the north, at Ocean Park, about a 30-minute walk from Surf Beach. Wilkinson also recommended just parking along Ocean Avenue to feel the launch in your feet.

“There’s more of a rumble out there,” he said. “You can feel the vibration in the ground.” Other viewing spots, recommended by Explore Lompoc, include Santa Lucia Canyon Road & Victory Road; Harris Grade Road; and Marshallia Ranch Road. No matter where you park, be considerate of locals. That means no littering, and no middle-of-the-night tailgating. The roads can be crowded with cars and people, so take care whether driving or walking.

While in Lompoc

If you’re looking for food after the launch, I had a satisfying surf and turf burrito from Mariscos El Palmar (722 E. Ocean Ave) in Lompoc, right next to a bar called Pour Decisions.

There’s a renowned burger at Jalama Beach Store, where you can also view a launch. Jalama Beach County Park has many charms, but the cellular signal is spotty out there, so you’ll likely have no way of knowing whether a launch has been scrubbed at the last minute. But you’ll have a pretty drive either way.

Looking to spend the night? The Village Inn (3955 Apollo Way) just opened and markets itself as being inspired by “the golden age of space exploration.” If you’re having a space day, might as well go all the way.

Growing up, Melanie Scrofano had a hard time relating to other kids — especially other girls. And though she felt like she was able to fit in with the boys for a while, it was a phase that also eventually ended.

“It was just a lonely existence,” the actor says during a recent Zoom call, “which I think was a gift. Because as I got older, I [realized] your female peers are your superpower, and I really started trying to cultivate those relationships.”

Nowadays, Scrofano is best known for work on TV that center such bonds between women. She says experiencing just how special the relationship between sisters can be during her time on “Wynonna Earp” — a supernatural western about fiercely loving your family — made it something she’s drawn to in projects.

“I think I crave those relationships because there’s a safety in them that I never found when I was younger,” says Scrofano, who emphasizes that it helps that she’s been “spoiled” by her castmates. “Yes, I’ve gravitated to those stories, but partly, it’s fate and luck that these people who make it so easy to fall in love with them fall into my lap.”

Her latest series, “Revival,” which premiered last week on Syfy (the first episode will hit Peacock on Thursday), is also anchored by the relationship between two sisters. Created by Aaron B. Koontz and Luke Boyce, the supernatural mystery revolves around a small Wisconsin town where one day, people who have recently died suddenly come back to life. The show is based on the comic book series by Tim Seeley and Mike Norton.

Melanie Scrofano’s Dana Cypress with her father, Wayne (David James Elliott), in “Revival.”

(Naomi Peters / Lavivier Productions / Syfy)

Scrofano stars as Dana Cypress, a single mother and local police officer who is simply trying to provide for her kid. Audiences first meet Dana as she is packing up her house to chase a new opportunity away from her hometown.

“It’s a small town, [and] once people have decided who you are, that’s who you are,” says Scrofano, who also serves as an executive producer on the series. “[But] Dana knows she can be more. … So she wants to get out of there and fulfill the promise she knows that she has in herself.”

Unfortunately, the sudden resurrection of the town’s recently deceased derails Dana’s plans. The series follows Dana as she investigates the situation around the no-longer-dead, dubbed “revivers” in the show’s parlance, as well as other (possibly related) crimes. She’s also navigating a strained relationship with her father and a budding romance while trying to reconnect with her estranged younger sister.

What struck Scrofano about the character is that she is not defined by her job or any one specific role.

“She [feels] like a real human being,” Scrofano says of Dana. “She’s simply a woman trying to exist and achieve her dreams in a way that is feeling impossible, and there’s nothing more human than that.”

The revivers, Scrofano explains, are also human — real people who appear to have returned just as they were before they died, rather than as undead zombie-like monsters — at least for the most part. But much of the world no longer sees them that way, and views differ on how the revivers should be treated.

“The rules [that apply to them] have changed, even though they have not,” Scrofano says. “So as a metaphor for how we treat people who are different than us, I was really compelled by that. How do you fight for what’s right when you don’t fully understand what’s going on, but in your heart, you know we need to stand by these people?”

Dana’s sister Em (Romy Weltman), right, confronting Arlene Stankiewiscz (Nicky Guadagni) in “Revival.”

(Naomi Peters / Lavivier Productions / Syfy)

Although the show is set in 2006 — as evidenced by everybody’s flip phones — the themes it touches have become timely. While the revivers are more a general metaphor for those who are deemed “other,” the show arrives at a moment when immigrants and their status in the U.S. have been challenged by the federal government ostensibly for public safety reasons, leading to people being targeted for what they look like. (Scrofano was interviewed before the recent immigration raids and unrest in Los Angeles.)

Also topical is how the ideological rift between Dana and her father, town sherriff Wayne Cypress (David James Elliott), is a source of tension. They hold differing views regarding their duty as well as attitudes towards revivers.

“So many families right now I find are quite divided because of what’s going on in the world,” Scrofano says. “I love the story of a fight to find common ground between them. … They’re forced to find it … and that gives me hope that it could inspire people who might be in those divisions to try to find their way back to each other in a way that feels respected and fulfilling for both sides.”

The series touches on relevant themes through its supernatural allegory, but “Revival” tells more than one story. As Scrofano describes, “it’s got horror, it’s got comedy, it’s got family, it’s got paranormal [and] it’s got true crime.”

Dana’s relationship with her younger sister Em (Romy Weltman) checks off a few of those boxes.

Em was born with osteogenesis imperfecta, also known as brittle bone disease, so her family has treated her delicately her entire life.

“Growing up, we were all very protective of her,” Scrofano says of her character’s family. “Much in the way that Dana is defined and can’t escape the definition of who she is, Em has the same burden. There’s a distance there that happened because Dana couldn’t get close … because all of her life [her] dad would have said, ‘Don’t touch. Be careful.’ ”

The sisters grew distant some time prior to the beginning of the show, but the mysterious events happening in their town bring them back into each other’s orbit. They try to reconnect, discussing how much the sisters can and will touch because of Em’s condition.

“We’re rediscovering our relationship in this new way,” says Scrofano. “Because of what she’s gone through, it frees her from certain things and frees us to be able to bond in a way that we couldn’t previously.”

Scrofano calls Weltman, who portrays Em, “a blessing.”

“Romy is one of the most thoughtful, considerate, compassionate people I’ve ever met, and she’s wise beyond her years,” she says.

Scrofano acknowledges that there are some similarities between “Revival” and the show she is best known for: “Wynonna Earp,” on which she played the eponymous, initially reluctant demon hunter. The Syfy series premiered in 2016 and gained a devoted following over its four-season run. A special, “Wynonna Earp: Vengeance,” was released on Tubi last year.

Dana (Melanie Scrofano) and a reviver in “Revival.”

(Mathieu Savidant / Lavivier Productions / Syfy)

Both are supernatural shows featuring a group of reanimated dead folks and a central relationship between sisters. Scrofano admits that she felt some pressure to make sure Dana and Wynonna were separate enough that the former did not feel like a derivative of the latter, since “ ‘Wynonna’ is such a special thing.”

She even jokes about avoiding the word “curse” when discussing “Revival” just to maintain the distance between the two shows, but she also makes it clear that the similarities only go so far.

“I’m not going to try to convince people there isn’t … an obvious parallel, but that’s kind of where it ends,” Scrofano says. She does share one less obvious connection between the two shows, explaining it was “Wynonna Earp” writer-producer Noelle Carbonewho initially reached out to her about the “Revival” role.

That Scrofano is a bit protective of “Wynonna Earp” is understandable. The cast and crew have spoken often about the show’s fiercely loyal and compassionate fanbase over the years. The show also helped kick off Scrofano’s writing and directing career.

“‘Wynonna’ opened so many doors creatively,” Scrofano says. “Because it’s opened so many doors, I don’t feel the pressure of [having] to escape some mold that Wynonna has created or that I’ve created for myself through her.”

In a conversation that detours through jokes about the composition of turduckens, nostalgia about the state of jeans worn during the aughts and comparing the background decor visible in each of our Zoom windows, Scrofano is most engaged when discussing storytelling.

She shares how as a child growing up with anxiety, thinking about “Married… With Children” episodes was the one way she was able to settle her mind. Identifying with “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” led her to start martial arts. She also has deep love for “Spaceballs, “ Weird Science” and “Labyrinth.”

And what Scrofano loves about her job and shows like “Revival” is that they give people an opportunity to “search for answers through these stories” and characters to foster empathy and understanding toward others.

“By doing what we do, we hopefully can empower people to at least tolerate each other a little bit better,” Scrofano says.

Rhiannon Giddens is down at the river, carrying a flame of heritage, and she’s inviting anyone who wants to join her to come down and light their own wicks.

Rivers are traditionally sites of salvation, as well as play. Last summer, Giddens was making her new album of traditional banjo and fiddle tunes with Justin Robinson, “What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow,” and they were recording a few songs at Mill Prong House in Red Springs, N.C. Stepping inside the house, built on a plantation in 1795, Giddens recoiled at the intensity she felt.

“I knew who was working these fields,” she says. “I knew who was serving in this house — and it was people who looked like me. And then seeing up on the wall, like, a reunion photo of these old white dudes who went to Chapel Hill, at the end of the Civil War, and one of them had my Black family’s last name from Mebane [N.C.] … I was just like: I can’t right now. I had to run out to the river.”

In a moment captured by a photographer, she was crouching by the water just before it started to rain, “and I’m thinking: how many people have come down to this river for respite? How many people in the history of this plantation — turned manor house, turned private property — have come to exactly this spot, distressed over whatever reason?”

Giddens carries the weight of this on her shoulders — of the distress, but also of the joyful culture and music-making of her ancestors — and she extends an open invitation to audiences to share and learn their stories and their culture. She did so at her inaugural Biscuits & Banjos Festival in her native North Carolina, and she’s doing it in her current Old-Time Revue tour — which will make a special blockbuster stop at the Hollywood Bowl [on June 18].

The program will feature Giddens playing with Hollywood banjoists Steve Martin and Ed Helms, along with a reunion of the all-female banjo supergroup Our Native Daughters. “So many banjos,” she says. “This evening is going to be amazing. I wanted to call it a ‘Banjo Jamboree,’ but they wouldn’t let me,” she laughs, speaking to The Times via Zoom.

Balancing laughter and sorrow seems to come easily to Giddens, 48, who has been on a serious mission to rekindle the legacy of the banjo and string band traditions as authentically Black creations ever since she met fiddle player Joe Thompson in 2004 and became a disciple. She’s referred to as an “elder” in the “Blackbird” liner notes, which doesn’t bother her: “To an 18-year-old, I am an elder,” she says. “I’m almost 50, and we are the half generation. We’re the point five, because our parents didn’t pick this up.”

From the Carolina Chocolate Drops to her solo music, from composing the Pulitzer-winning opera “Omar” to helming the Silkroad Ensemble, Giddens is at the fore of a movement of Black artists — including Beyoncé, whose country album “Cowboy Carter” features Giddens on banjo — reclaiming their cultural heritage and making it sing again.

Rhiannon Giddens

(Rick Loomis / for the Los Angeles Times)

A river (of sorts) played a role in another piece of Black Southern iconography this year — in the climax of “Sinners.” Giddens was a musical consultant on Ryan Coogler’s blockbuster film and contributed her banjo to the song “Old Corn Liquor” on its soundtrack. She was also meant to appear onscreen in the central juke joint — her Chocolate Drops bandmate, Justin Robinson, does — but she couldn’t make it work with her busy schedule. She admittedly hasn’t seen the film (“I don’t like horror movies, so I actually don’t want to see it”) but she’s still a fan.

“I think what they’ve opened up with the whole conceit behind it is super important,” Giddens says.

In a way, “Sinners” is a vampiric, IMAX-sized version of her own project, in that it’s about how so much of our popular musical culture was invented by Black folks in the South and co-opted by white performers (whether Elvis, the Rolling Stones or the country and folk music industries) — but also about how music can be a time machine, a way to seance with people up the river of history.

“Beyoncé, ‘Sinners,’ and then, in its own small way, Biscuits & Banjos is like this little triangle of a cultural movement,” Giddens says, “which I didn’t see coming, and I’m just super grateful. Because it’s been a desert. … We’re all toiling in our corners, on our own, and it kind of feels like we’re carrying all of this on our own.”

Her Durham festival, which took place in April, drew musical legends — Taj Mahal, Christian McBride, the Legendary Ingramettes — and basically “most of my favorite people making music right now,” says Giddens. She also judged a biscuit competition and participated in contra dances, which is what got her into this music in the first place.

“People were just really ready,” she says, “ready to come and feel good, and to celebrate our humanity together.”

For Giddens, the stakes couldn’t be higher. She and Robinson learned their tunes and their art directly from Thompson, who died in 2012; they were playing his music together in Ojai recently “when it just hit me how important it was what we were doing,” she says, “like how complete the sound was together. I said: ‘If one of us gets hit by a bus, this tradition is dead.’ ”

That’s why she wanted to record the tunes they inherited from Thompson, as well as from Etta Baker and other North Carolina string band players — hence the “Blackbird” album. But she also insists that the only way to truly pass the flame is through playing together in person.

Rhiannon Giddens crouching by river near Mill Prong House in Red Springs, N.C.contemplating the historic struggle of her slave ancestors. “I’m thinking: how many people have come down to this river for respite?” she said. “How many people in the history of this plantation — turned manor house, turned private property — have come to exactly this spot, distressed over whatever reason?”

(Karen Cox)

“I know that learning from Joe forms the center of my character as a musician,” she says. “I learned stuff off of recordings, fine, but I have something to go back to that was a living transmission. And I just think you should have something of that, especially in this day and age.”

Giddens has passed her tradition down to many students in the past 20 years, including her nephew Justin “Demeanor” Harrington — who plays banjo and the bones, and also raps, and who is traveling with her Old-Time Revue.

This will be Giddens’ first time at the Bowl; likewise for Amythyst Kiah, a banjo player from Johnson City, Tenn., and one of Our Native Daughters. That project began in 2019 as a one-off album recorded in a small Louisiana studio, of songs inspired by the transatlantic slave trade and the suffering and often unheard voices of Black women.

“Music has a way of disarming,” says Kiah, “so it allows for people to be able to engage with the subject matter in an easier way than just talking about it.”

The fierce foursome — which also includes Allison Russell and Leyla McCalla — toured with their songs before the pandemic, and later brought their banjos to Carnegie Hall in 2022. “Now we’re playing in a stadium,” says Kiah, “which is insane.”

The star-studded Bowl show is “not what I usually do,” says Giddens. “It’s stepping out a little bit for me, not to mention the size of the place, which is kind of freaking me out.”

But really it’s just another river — or rather, the same river Giddens has been inviting folks to join her at for the last 20 years.

On a recent walk through the charred and twisted remains and scraped-flat plateau of the Pacific Palisades, local historian Randy Young paused a couple of hundred yards into the mouth of Temescal Canyon, above Sunset Boulevard, to let the eerie randomness of the January flames sink in. So much was erased in so little time, leaving the lasting impression, whether from afar or close-up, of a wasteland — a place almost wiped off the map.

But here, in the narrows of the canyon, where Temescal Creek tickled the roots of sycamores and cooled the air beneath the heavy branches of valley oaks, Young lighted up with the enthusiasm of an amateur botanist.

“The oak trees took all of the fire’s embers. They caught them like catcher’s mitts,” said Young, who grew up in adjacent Rustic Canyon and until recently lived in a Palisades apartment near Temescal.

The 1920s Chautauqua Conference Grounds in what became Pacific Palisades included a grocery and meat market.

(Pacific Palisades Historical Society)

Those trees, and the green (and thus less flammable) edges of the creek, helped to save a row of small, wooden cottages and a cluster of wood-shingled, pitched-roof buildings that were the remains of the 77-acre Chautauqua Assembly Camp, once the thriving nucleus of a 1920s effort to shape the Palisades as a spiritual and intellectual lodestar on the California Coast. The Chautauqua movement — founded in 1874 at Lake Chautauqua, N.Y., to better train Sunday-school teachers — swept the country in the late 19th century, blossoming into a network of assemblies drawing rural and working-class Americans hungry for education, culture and social progress. While short-lived, the local camp would form the blueprint for Pacific Palisades to this day.

Young, who has co-written books about the Palisades and its surrounding communities, stepped onto the short boardwalk fronting a modest wooden structure. “This was the grocery store and meat market,” he noted. Rounding the slope at the back, he pointed to an old Adirondack-style dining hall — now called Cheadle Hall but originally Woodland Hall — its simple post-and-beam and wood wainscoting preserved from the early 1920s. He also spoke of what had been lost over the decades: Across the glade had stood a barnlike, three-tiered auditorium. Nearby, he said, had been a log-cabin library. Up and down the canyon were dozens of river-rock cottages and timbered casitas, and 200 canvas tents raised on wooden platforms.

South of Sunset Boulevard (then known as Marquez Road), on a site that now includes Palisades Charter High School, was the Institute Camp, containing an amphitheater carved out of a natural bowl, where thousands of summertime campers would hear the likes of Leo Tolstoy’s son, Illya, speaking on “The True Russia,” or Bakersfield-born Lawrence Tibbett, who would become one of the country’s greatest baritones, perform selections from his Metropolitan Opera repertoire. The Institute Camp also housed the Founders Oak, a tree that marked the site of the community’s 1922 founding ceremony, and lots for independent groups, like the WE Boys and Jesus our Companion (J.O.C.), Methodist-affiliated clubs who made a former Mission Revival home into the Aldersgate Lodge (925 Haverford Ave.) in 1928.

A 1922 Thanksgiving gathering fills rows of the since-destroyed amphitheater set under oaks and sycamores in Temescal Canyon.

(Pacific Palisades Historical Society)

In the sylvan canyon, the Palisades Chautauqua offered a bewildering array of ways to lift oneself up: hiking and calisthenics, elocution and oratory, homemaking and child psychology, music, history, politics, literature and theater. Tinged with piety, these were, in their own words, “high class, jazz-free resort facilities.”

The official dedication of the Palisades Chautauqua on Aug. 6, 1922, would be the last of its kind in the country. It was spearheaded by Rev. Charles Holmes Scott, a Methodist minister and educational reformer who dreamed of creating the “Chautauqua of the West.” The influence of the movement was so central to the Palisades’ identity that in 1926, one of its main thoroughfares — Chautauqua Boulevard — was named in its honor.

Scott, inspired by the Chautauqua tradition’s ideals of self-transformation, envisioned Pacific Palisades as a place where character would matter more than commerce. “Banks and railroads and money is always with us. But the character and integrity of our men and women is something money cannot buy. We will prove the worth of man,” Scott declared. Residents signed 99-year leases to ensure the community’s cooperative nature. The leasehold model was also meant to prevent speculation, fund cultural facilities and events, and uphold moral standards. Alcohol, billboards and architectural extravagance were all prohibited — as was, alas, anyone who wasn’t Protestant or white.

The Palisades Assn., under Scott’s guidance, purchased nearly 2,000 acres of mesa, foothills and coastline. Pasadena landscape architect Clarence Day drew up the first plans, establishing a new axis, Via de la Paz, or Way of Peace, eventually home to Pacific Palisades United Methodist Community Church (1930) and terminating at a neoclassical, Napoleonic-scaled Peace Temple, atop Peace Hill. He laid out two tracts: Founders Tract I, a tight-knit grid of streets (now known as the Alphabet Streets) for modest homes above Sunset Boulevard, and the curving Founders Tract II, closer to the coast with larger lots for more affluent residents.

Soon after, Day was replaced by the renowned Olmsted Brothers, who refined the layout to follow natural contours, planted thousands of trees and designed a stately civic center in which they wanted to include a library, hotel, lake, a park with a concert grove and a far larger, permanent auditorium. Only one major element of that center was realized: Clifton Nourse’s Churrigueresque-style Business Block building at Swarthmore and Sunset, completed in 1924.

Residents gather on Peace Hill on Easter Sunday in 1922.

(Pacific Palisades Historical Society)

By the end of 1923, it seemed as if the Palisades was destined to become a boom town, with 1,725 people making down payments totaling more than $1.5 million on 99-year renewable leases. In early 1924, demand slumped, never to revive. To preserve the dream, in 1926 Scott abandoned the lease-only model and began selling lots. That same year the association borrowed heavily to purchase 226 more ocean-view acres from the estate of railway magnate Collis P. Huntington, installing underground utilities and ornamental street lighting in an area that would become known as the Huntington Palisades. Debt soared from $800,000 in 1925 to $3.5 million by the end of 1926.

As the 1929 stock market crash hit and revenue dried up in the Great Depression, the association collapsed. Its assets were sold off. Grand plans, like the Civic Center and the Peace Temple, were abandoned. The dream withered.

“There wasn’t a moment where they said ‘we’re stopping,’” Young said. “It just sort of petered out.”

Yet fragments endured, stubbornly. In 1943, the Presbyterian Synod purchased the Chautauqua site and operated it as a retreat. In the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, local activists fought off a plan to extend Reseda Boulevard right through Temescal Canyon (though buildings like the library and assembly hall had already been torn down in anticipation of the roadway). In 1994, the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy acquired the land. Today, it survives as the city-run Temescal Gateway Park, its board-and-batten cabins and rustic halls weathered but largely intact.

The Business Block — since January a fire-blackened shell awaiting its undetermined fate — narrowly escaped demolition in the 1980s when a developer proposed replacing it with a concrete and glass mall. A preservationist campaign under the slogan “Don’t Mall the Palisades” saved the structure.

But by then, the character of the Palisades had begun to shift. Faint echoes of the quiet, rustic past remained, but modest bungalows had given way to mansions. The artists, radicals and missionaries were largely gone.

“It’s not Chautauqua anymore — it’s Château Taco Bell,” Young quipped, of much of the area’s soulless new built forms.

Today, thanks to the fire’s brutality, the original Chautauqua sites offer something unusual: a landscape where past and present momentarily coexist. Slate roofs held firm. Ancient oak groves performed better than modern landscaping. For Young, the fires stripped away modern gloss to reveal what continues to matter.

“When you go through a fire,” he said, “you get down to the basics.” He added: “The fires brought us back to 1928.”

Pacific Palisades is one of a long list of failed California utopias. Like Llano del Rio, the socialist settlement in the Antelope Valley, or the Kaweah Colony, a cooperative in the Sierra foothills, it was a high-minded gamble dashed on the shoals of capitalism and human nature. The idealistic outpost lingers, etched into the land, embossed in the Palisades’ deeper memory. The dream may no longer be intact, but its traces are still legible.

The accomplished mother that photographer-writer Rachel Elizabeth Seed never knew is the star of her deeply affecting “A Photographic Memory,” one of last year’s best documentaries, finally making its way to Los Angeles theaters. This poetic gem is a journey from the weight of absence to the serenity of presence, thanks in no small part to the inquisitive, gifted woman pulled from obscurity: Sheila Turner-Seed, whose life was short but full and worth revitalizing.

Turner-Seed, a journalist, was 42 when she died in 1979, leaving behind an 18-month-old daughter, a bereft photographer husband (Brian Seed) and a legacy of wide-ranging, globe-trotting reportage that culminated in a renowned oral and visual history called “Images of Man.” The project was anchored by Turner-Seed’s groundbreaking interviews with the world’s best living photographers at the time, including Henri Cartier-Bresson, Cecil Beaton, Lisette Model and Gordon Parks. And though she only ever referred to herself as an amateur with a camera, Turner-Seed once saw a photo of hers land on the cover of the New York Times.

That her daughter also pursued photography and nonfiction storytelling could be viewed as the manifestation of a deeply felt connection. Was following her mother’s passion the most readily available way to process a personal loss the director essentially had no memory of? Seed only began exploring the true breadth and emotion of her mother’s legacy when she herself reached the age that her mom died, a milestone fraught for many grown, parentless children.

What the younger Seed found, accompanied by memories from her mother’s colleagues, was a rich archive of adventurous work and personal expression: photos, journals, contact sheets, Super8 film, audio pieces and a trove of interviews. These discussions reveal a soulful, probing mind that not only kept her subjects on their toes, but warmly elicited thoughtful answers about the nature of their moment-in-time art.

Turner-Seed’s own writing lays bare a struggle for self-fulfillment, to reconcile the traditional values pushed by her Jewish immigrant parents with a restless need to discover and make her own way. In an especially revealing journal entry from 1972, she wonders if she’ll grow in her chosen fields if she marries and has a child — but also, will she want to? A lanky, warm presence with a sociable smile, Turner-Seed is never far from a keenly observed thought or ambivalent feeling.

Why “A Photographic Memory” stands out, however, is her daughter’s handling of this precious life. It’s a heartbreakingly imaginative conjuring of the parent-child connection that never came to be, but which Seed and her editors (including documentary cutting legend Maya Daisy Hawke) finesse to life.

With melancholy and playfulness both, Seed threads in her own introspective voice-over and contemporary footage (poring over material, visiting her dad, sparring with a boyfriend). She also adds grainy period re-creations of her mom’s interviews, Seed playing her own parent in these 8mm snippets. Eventually, technology allows these distant intimates to share a frame.

Biographical and essayistic, “A Photographic Memory” suggests both a woman interested in locating her remarkable mother, gone too soon, and an artist exploring her own place. Of the impulse to take a photo, to grab the moment, we hear Cartier-Bresson excitedly tell Turner-Seed, “Life is once, forever.” Her future daughter’s marvelous movie embodies that idea beautifully.

“Hacks” won the comedy series Emmy last year on the strength of a campaign that proclaimed: Vote for us! We’re actually a comedy (unlike, you know, “The Bear”).

So what happens this year when the show stopped being funny?

I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. There’s not much to laugh about these days, so let’s pick our spots and consider the TV series vying for television’s top award.

‘Hacks’ Season 4 leaves room for a new winner

Let me just say at the outset that I enjoy “Hacks.” And like everyone else on the planet, I adore Jean Smart and appreciate that Lucia Aniello, Paul W. Downs and Jen Statsky created a role worthy of her talents. Comparing notes with Smart on the best sad sing-along songs is a memory I’ll always treasure, and even inspired me for a time to dip back into listening to “love songs on the Coast.”

At its essence, “Hacks” is a love story between Smart’s stand-up legend Deborah Vance and Ava Daniels (Hannah Einbinder), the young writer who helped Deborah reinvent her career. They come from different generations and possess distinct comic sensibilities. They fight, hurt each other, separate and ultimately reunite after realizing that they’re better together. They get each other. Or at least, Ava gets Deborah. And that’s enough because Deborah is the star and she doesn’t really need to bother understanding Ava’s Gen Z peculiarities. She can just roll her eyes.

Their mutual dependence is believable enough. They both live for work. So much so that at the end of “Hacks’” third season, Ava has blackmailed Deborah, an act that lands her the head writer job that Deborah had promised to give her on her late-night talk show. Ava was but the learner, now she’s the master. Well played, Dark Lady of the Sith.

It was, as our old friend Jeff Probst would say, an epic blindside, and you can understand why this current season would begin with bitter acrimony between the two women, a situation so toxic that the network brought in a human resources rep to keep them from harming each other.

The animosity wasn’t fun to watch. The tone was shrill and off-putting. Was there a joke that landed in the season’s first half? I don’t remember one, but maybe that’s because I was curled up in a fetal position watching the plot unfold.

At least amid the drama of “The Bear,” I could get some some inspiration for a good set of kitchen knives.

Julianne Nicholson’s “Dance Mom” was a bright spot of “Hacks” Season 4.

(Max)

Of course, Deborah and Ava got back together, which was a relief because that HR lady was annoying. The season’s penultimate episode was ridiculous, but in all the best ways, surprising and emotionally satisfying. Helen Hunt finally scored a big moment. And Julianne Nicholson showed some moves as Dance Mom that I never imagined her possessing. Get that character to rehab and into Season 5.

Yes, “Hacks” can still entertain. Even the anticlimactic final episode gave Smart the opportunity to play boozy and bored, showcasing her depth as a dramatic actor. One would think that after what transpired, Deborah would have more opportunities, even with a noncompete clause, to parlay her ethical stance into something more meaningful than a sad casino gig in Singapore. But the finale set up one final comeback — final because “Hacks” was pitched with a five-season arc. And we’re on the doorstep.

At least they won’t have to contrive to separate Ava and Deborah again.

So, by all means, nominate “Hacks” for comedy series again. I’d rather rewatch it than nod off during the tepid “Four Seasons.” And maybe since the show’s creators have known (since 2015) what the final scene will be, we’ll have a persuasive fifth season possessing the energy of a great Deborah Vance comeback.

In the meantime, keep last year’s mandate going and give the Emmy to a show that was consistently funny.

Give the Emmy to “The Studio.”

Read more coverage of the Emmy comedy race

Whenever I’m feeling stressed out, heartbroken or scared over the state of our nation, the one place where I can find solace, however fleeting, is in the outdoors.

I’ve taken several mental vacations this past week back to the most beautiful hike I’ve ever traversed in California. I can close my eyes and feel the sun on my skin as I sit next to a massive waterfall, its roar filling my ears as my face turns misty from its blast. I’d like to take you there with me now and explain how, when and why you must go too.

In mid-May, I traveled three hours north of Sacramento to the Trinity Alps Wilderness so I could write a guide on how to explore the region. You’ll find everything you need to start planning your trip.

The Trinity Alps are about 540,000 acres, which is about 100,000 acres larger than the San Gabriel Mountains National Monument, and they feature massive waterfalls, crystal-clear rivers and creeks, and dozens of turquoise alpine lakes.

The Canyon Creek trail is the most popular in the Trinities, and for good reason, as it has each of those things.

Backpackers often take the path 8.5 miles to the Boulder Creek lakes or nine miles to the Canyon Creek Lakes. (Note: If you’d like to backpack the trail, please visit the Weaverville Ranger Station beforehand to gain clarity on where you should camp, as there are certain areas that have been damaged by overuse and should be avoided.)

The blue-green water of Canyon Creek.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

I took a 16-mile, round-trip day hike, ending my journey at the upper falls, but you certainly don’t have to go that far to see tremendous beauty here, as seemingly every mile traveled offers a new delight.

To reach the trailhead, you’ll take California 299 to Canyon Creek Road, a narrow two-lane thoroughfare that includes two one-lane bridges. You’ll pass through a rural community where signs request you to kindly watch your speed. It’s a good idea regardless of where you’re driving in the Trinity Alps, as deer are easy to spot on the highway (including eating in the middle of the road, which I couldn’t figure out).

You’ll need to arrive early if hiking the Canyon Creek trail on a weekend, as the parking lot can fill up. I went pre-season and had one of three vehicles in the large lot.

The first mile of the Canyon Creek trail is a gentle narrow dirt path.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

From the trailhead, you’ll hike past an information board — during my visit, the forest service staff was warning of two food-motivated bears — and then past a large wooden Trinity Alps sign, a good selfie spot.

From here, you’ll start down a narrow mostly flat dirt path shaded by massive conifers and bigleaf maples. The path runs parallel to its namesake channel and includes several water crossings of varying sizes, so plan accordingly (i.e. pack extra socks!).

I visited before the Trinity Alps season starts, as it typically runs from June to October, but still noticed several flowering plants in this first mile of my hike, including western starflower, baldhip rose, longtube iris and some type of inside-out flower.

Cliff maids (lewisia cotyledon), spreading phlox and a paintbrush flower grow along the Canyon Creek trail.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

About a mile in, you’ll come to your first major water crossing. On my way back, I did a great job letting the river’s current ram my toes into a boulder, so please take good care as you cross. This is a great turn-around spot if you’re hiking with little kids, as it has a few spots where you can splash around without getting pummeled by the river, along with rocks covered in bright green moss.

Massive conifers grow throughout the Canyon Creek area.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

After the crossing, the trail started to remind me a bit of the Switzer Falls hike or the Valley Forge area of the Gabrielino trail, but with way more water and much taller trees. I spotted several deer tracks, and maybe smelled bear urine. I loved seeing the large white blooms of the dogwood trees.

The white bloom of a dogwood tree.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

About three miles in, I reached a fork in the trail where I headed down to the Sinks for a short side trip. This area has nice, clear pools where you can take a dip, relax and explore.

It is another great turn-around spot, as you could easily spend the day lounging in the river, napping in a hammock and enjoying the sound of native birds and the river around you. I was almost pulled by the river siren’s call to just stay there. But I really wanted to see all three waterfalls!

The Sinks is an area just off the Canyon Creek trail that offers calmer areas to swim and spend the day.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

Shortly after leaving the Sinks, I walked over a landslide. Alone, happily bored and a big Fleetwood Mac fan, I did sing as I crossed over it (but I did not see my reflection in the snow-covered hills). I later spoke to a forest service worker who said these obstacles were being cleared. So fingers crossed the landslide won’t be there when you arrive.

Dendroalsia moss growing on a tree near the Canyon Creek trail.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

This segment of the trail felt like it was teeming with life. Several rocks I passed had dens beneath them for snakes, frogs and other creatures. The trees had holes where woodpeckers had or will store food. Also, several conifers had bark covered in furry moss. I am always reminded when in nature about our interconnections and how we can all support each other.

Soon, I ascended from the forested area onto a rockier part of the trail where I had clear views of the jagged canyon walls. You’re at just over 4,000 feet while the tops of the canyon walls are easily more than 2,000 feet higher in elevation. Also, this is a sunnier portion of the trail, so you’ll want to make sure to reapply sunscreen.

As you hike, I hope you’ll spot even more wildflowers than I did! I passed by large boulders covered in moss and bright pops of spring color, including a yellow small-leaved monkey flower, light purple spreading phlox, red paintbrushes and pink cliff maids.

I could hear Canyon Creek Falls, or the lower falls, long before I arrived, calling to me like a music festival starring Mother Nature. And then, four miles in, I screamed in delight and briefly wondered if I’d somehow made it to the upper falls because of the size of the cascade before me. I stood in awe of the wide multi-story waterfall, watching hundreds of gallons of water rush over boulders into a deep turquoise plunge pool.

You’ll notice several jagged peaks like this one as you hike along Canyon Creek.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

I talked to three backpackers from Northern California, one of whom was celebrating a birthday, as they debated where they’d camp. I saw a total of eight people all day.

The Canyon Creek Falls, or the lower falls, are reachable via an eight-mile round-trip hike.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

As I gained elevation, I reentered another forested area with boulders at least 12 feet tall. About 4.5 miles in, you’ll pass by Upper Canyon Creek Meadow. Part of it appeared to be part wetlands, part meadow, looking like an ideal place for fish to hide if they can make it there. There was a substantial amount of bear scat in this area, so on the way back when I spotted a small cave nearby, I snapped a quick photo and skedaddled.

The trail was harder to find five miles in. I ended up off-trail multiple times, but it was usually easy to see where I’d gone wrong. Please download a map before heading out so you can check your outdoors app. And, yes, carry a paper map too just in case.

A meadow off the Canyon Creek trail.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

At six miles in, you’ll find yourself standing mouth agape at the middle falls. This website claims this waterfall, which is easily more than 100 feet high, is “great for whitewater enjoyment.” This sounds terrifying to me, but I’m not going to yuck anyone’s yeehaw. There is a short trail (about 400 feet) you can take to the base of the middle falls. Please use caution as it’s crumbly and a bit technical.

I did not spend too much time here because, as mentioned, I had tunnel vision for the upper falls. But stopping here would provide you with a splendid 12-mile, round-trip hike where you would get to see two massive waterfalls, an absolutely stunning river with several pools, the Sinks, mountain views and wildflowers (and probably deer because they’re everywhere in the Trinity Alps).

A river flows near the Sinks, an area just off the Canyon Creek trail.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

But if you want to keep going, a striking reward remains about a mile ahead. I knew I was getting tired, so I ate my favorite trail gummies and other snacks and headed past ancient trees and over rocky steps, reminding myself how lucky I was to be on the clock in the woods.

Near a large rock that resembled the Mandalorian’s helmet, I checked my map and found I’d almost made it. When I took my final turn, I could see rushing water past a stand of trees. I forged ahead and found myself standing (alone!) before 10 short cascades rushing over various sized boulders. I thought this was the upper falls, and I was impressed.

The upper falls at Canyon Creek start via a series of cascades before descending hundreds of feet down the mountain.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

But I heard a loud roar of water and I couldn’t help myself. I carefully traveled around the rocky area and realized that those waterfalls were only the upper portion of the upper falls. The water continued racing down the mountain. In total, the upper falls are easily hundreds of feet.

The upper falls of Canyon Creek is a series of cascades that collectively fall more than 100 feet down the mountain.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

I sat near the waterfall, enjoying what tasted like the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich I’d ever had, given the scenery and the journey I’d made to get there. I briefly toyed with the idea of hiking the additional 1.5 miles to the Canyon Creek Lakes, pulled by the allure of the larger of the two, which spans 25 acres and reaches a depth of 86 feet. But I knew that was foolish. I wanted to get back to my car before nightfall. And after falling deeply in love with the landscape, I know I will return to the Trinity Alps (hopefully many times).

On the hike back, I had to go slightly off trail through dense weeds to avoid some stagnant water pooled on the trail, which I’d already done once. This time, though, as I lifted my foot, one of the springy plants shot back up and slapped me right in the middle of my face. Stunned, I wondered whether my lip was bleeding. It felt a bit karmic, like the universe saying, “Hey, watch it!” I hope you’re laughing as much as I was.

It was impossible to bring my mood down after hiking in one of the most beautiful places in California and arguably the West.

3 things to do

A lone hiker takes in sweeping views of the Santa Monica Mountains at Eagle Rock along the Backbone Trail in Topanga State Park.

(Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

1. Celebrate California State Parks Week across L.A.
State parks across L.A. County (and California) are hosting events through Sunday to celebrate California State Parks Week. At Topanga State Park, the Santa Monica Mountains Task Force of the Sierra Club will host an introductory trail maintenance course from 8:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Saturday. At Santa Susana Pass State Historic Park, visitors can attend a morning mindfulness hike from 9 to 11 a.m. or an evening hike from 5 to 7 p.m., both on Saturday. Find events near you at castateparksweek.org.

2. Sashay down the trail in Glendale
A group of local nonprofits will host Pride Outside: San Gay-briel Mountains from 5 to 8 p.m. Saturday at Deukmejian Wilderness Park in Glendale. Organizers will offer a one-mile hike at 5 and 7 p.m. to prevent overcrowding on the trail. In between, the group will hear from local organizations and watch drag performances. Register at eventbrite.com.

3. Cut the mustard in La Crescenta
The Arroyos & Foothills Conservancy needs volunteers from 8 to 10 a.m. Saturday at its Rosemont Preserve in La Crescenta. Participants will yank invasives like black mustard, water newly planted native plants and perform trail maintenance. Volunteers are welcome to bring shovels, spades, loppers, hatchets and clippers. Other tools will be provided. Register at arroyosfoothills.org.

The must-read

William “Captain Smitty” Smith at Pillar Point Harbor in Half Moon Bay.

(Loren Elliott / Los Angeles Times)

This past weekend, Californians were allowed to fish in the ocean for Chinook salmon, the first time the state allowed recreational fishing of the species since 2022. Times reporter Ian James spoke to William “Captain Smitty” Smith, who was busy preparing his charter fishing boat Riptide at Pillar Point Harbor in Half Moon Bay. Smith said the moment news broke in April that the state would allow a limited amount of fishing of Chinook salmon in the ocean, his regulars called and his boat was booked up. His plan was to take out 18 people both days. California Department of Fish and Wildlife is allowing up to 7,000 of the fish to be caught. If that quota wasn’t met this past weekend, then salmon fishing will be allowed until the limit is reached, likely on July 5-6, July 31-Aug. 3 and Aug. 25-31. Given the progress the state has made on improving the salmon’s environment (although climate change has more than made it challenging), Smith told James that he’s hopeful about what the future holds. “I want there to be a fishery for my grandson,” said Smith, who has worked in the charter boat industry for 50 years. “I want him to be able to experience the thrill of catching a fish in the ocean.”

Happy adventuring,

P.S.

L.A. County Parks and Recreation is hosting family campouts through the summer, including this month where participants can learn about fishing in our local lakes at four county parks. At Kenneth Hahn State Recreation Area, campers can participate in a night hike, and at Castaic Lake Recreation Area, kayaks will be available. Each event is $15 per person. Children 13 and younger are free. Register at bit.ly/OvernightCamping.

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.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” French writer Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Kerr said in 1849. Nearly 200 years later, that is sadly true of the greatest protest songs. In 2025, songs like Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War” and Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” are as needed for their messages as they were when they were written more than 60 years ago.

So when Grammy-winning jazz drummer Terri Lyne Carrington set out this year to pay homage to one of her stick-wielding idols, the legendary Max Roach, by revisiting his seminal 1961 album, “We Insist!,” it turned out to be more than a musical tribute. In the process of recording the album “We Insist 2025!,” Carrington took time to reflect on how issues of inequality, racism and more that Roach fought against in 1961 are unfortunately just as prevalent today.

“Wow, I can’t believe that this stuff is still relevant,” Carrington says. “When we look at these examples of how things have shifted in some ways, but not in other ways, it can be very depressing, especially right now. When we started this record, the election hadn’t happened yet. I thought I knew what was going to happen during this election, and it was still relevant. But now it’s even more relevant.”

Now 59, Carrington, who also serves as Zildjian Chair in Performance at Berklee College of Music in Boston, is ready to pass along some of the fight for social justice to the younger generation.

“I do feel like it’s a youthful game. I had an uncle that I would talk to when I was in my 20s, who has since passed. He would say that this is your fight now, and I would be mad at him, feeling like he wasn’t doing more,” she recalls. “And he would say, ‘No, this is your fight now. I‘ve done it, I‘ve been there, I‘m tired.’ I get that sentiment too. I‘m going to do whatever I do, but I‘m relying on the younger generation and how pissed off I feel like they are and what that will do.”

Terri Lyne Carrington playing a drum kit.

(John Watson)

Among her many ventures to champion the jazz music she loves so much is A&R for iconic jazz label Candid Records, founded by the great jazz writer Nat Hentoff in 1960. So, she called on the younger generation to help share her vision of “We Insist 2025!”

“I thought of calling the people that had been signed or were being signed to Candid Records because I do A&R for Candid. So I thought this would be a great opportunity to also shine a light on a lot of these artists, young people and progressive artists that are being signed right now to Candid. It‘s kind of like a family gathering; we all came together to pay tribute to this great artist and this great project,” she says.

At the center of the next generation of jazz artists on the album is vocalist Christie Dashiell, with whom Carrington collaborates on the album.

“Somebody like Christie Dashiell was really important to the project, because I felt like the voice is so out front. It‘s what people relate to; the average ear relates to the voice the most,” Carrington says. “I just feel like she perfectly embodies all these different areas of Black music traditions. That was really important, so I started there. What is the voice that’s going to work with this idea?”

Having toured with Herbie Hancock and played with giants as Dizzy Gillespie and Stan Getz, Carrington has a strong sense of jazz history and rightly sees herself as a bridge between the history and future of jazz. She made sure that bridge was strong on “We Insist 2025!” by including trombonist Julian Priester on the record, who, at 89, is the last living musician who appeared on Roach’s 1961 work.

“Jazz has always been about these kinds of bridges between generations. It‘s been such an important part of jazz. Mentorship, apprenticeships — it‘s an apprenticeship art form,” she says. “So we did contemporary things with this music, but it wasn‘t so contemporary that there was no place for a Julian Priester. I think that the ability to be a bridge is important — pointing to past legacies, to the foundation of what we stand on, while trying to also point to the future or reflect the present is important.”

As much as the album‘s original political message weighs in this turbulent current climate, and as much as Carrington wanted to make the record a vehicle for younger artists, the impetus for “We Insist 2025!” was to pay tribute to Roach for the centennial anniversary of his birth. For Carrington, the heart of her interpretation was to honor the music and spirit Roach created on “We Insist!”

Jazz drummer Terri Lyne Carrington poses for a portrait.

(David Butow / For The Times)

“I had a history with reimagining projects in other people‘s work, and helping that legacy continue, but doing it in a way that also has my own identity involved in a way that really feels new, in a sense,” she says. “The music is not new, but so many elements around those things are new. So I feel like it‘s reshaping these things a little, even though we didn‘t change the lyric content. By changing the music around the lyrics, it gives the lyric a different slant.”

As one of the country‘s primary ambassadors of jazz music today, Carrington hopes the record will introduce new fans to Roach’s considerable legacy while helping to revive the soul of protest music. To that end, she has discussed bigger plans with his family.

“I‘ve talked to Max‘s son, Raul Roach, quite a bit about trying to collaborate by doing shows that would be expansive. Doing some of this music, maybe doing some other Max music, like some of the double quartet music,” she says. “So we‘ve talked about finding ways to continue this celebration of Max Roach and his artistry. There‘s a lot there as a foundation that can be expanded upon.”

OXNARD, Calif. — At 6 a.m. Wednesday, Juvenal Solano drove slowly along the cracked roads that border the fields of strawberry and celery that cloak this fertile expanse of Ventura County, his eyes peeled for signs of trouble.

An eerie silence hung over the morning. The workers who would typically be shuffling up and down the strawberry rows were largely absent. The entry gates to many area farms were shut and locked.

Still, Solano, a director with the Mixteco Indigena Community Organizing Project, felt relieved. Silence was better than the chaos that had broken out Tuesday when immigration agents raided fields in Oxnard and fanned out across communities in Ventura and Santa Barbara counties that grow a considerable portion of the state’s strawberries, avocados and celery.

The organization, part of a broader rapid-response network that offers support and counsel for workers targeted by immigration raids, was caught off guard when calls started pouring in from residents reporting federal agents gathering near fields. Group leaders say they have confirmed at least 35 people were detained in the raids, and are still trying to pin down exact numbers.

In the past week, Solano said, the organization had gotten scattered reports of immigration authorities arresting undocumented residents. But Tuesday, he said, marked a new level in approach and scope as federal agents tried to access fields and packinghouses. Solano, like other organizers, are wondering what their next move will be.

“If they didn’t show up in the morning, it’s possible they’ll show up in the afternoon,” Solano said. “We’re going to stay alert to everything that’s happening.”

While agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement and Border Patrol showed up at food production sites from the Central Coast to the San Joaquin Valley, much of the activity centered on the Oxnard Plain. Maureen McGuire, chief executive of the Ventura County Farm Bureau, said federal agents visited five packing facilities and at least five farms in the region. Agents also stopped people on their way to work, she said.

In many cases, according to McGuire and community leaders, farm owners refused to grant access to the agents, who had no judicial warrants.

California, which grows more than one-third of the nation’s vegetables and more than three-quarters of its fruits and nuts, has long been dependent on undocumented labor to tend its crops. Though a growing number of farm laborers are migrants imported on a seasonal basis through the controversial H-2A visa program, at least half the state’s 255,700 farmworkers are undocumented immigrants, according to UC Merced research. Many have lived in California for years, and have put down roots and started families.

Juvenal Solano, with Mixteco Indigena Community Organizing Project, said Tuesday’s raids in Ventura County farm fields marked a dramatic escalation in tactics.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

Until this week, California’s agricultural sector had largely escaped the large-scale raids that the Department of Homeland Security has deployed in urban areas, most recently in Los Angeles and Orange counties. California farmers — many of them ardent supporters of Donald Trump — have seemed remarkably calm as the president vowed mass deportations of undocumented workers.

Many expected that Trump would find ways to protect their workforce, noting that without sufficient workers, food would rot in the fields, sending grocery prices skyrocketing.

But this week brought a different message. Asked about enforcement actions in food production regions, Tom Homan, Trump’s chief adviser on border policy, said growers should hire a legal workforce.

“There are programs — you can get people to come in and do that job,” he said. “So work with ICE, work with [U.S. Citizen and Immigration Services], and hire a legal workforce. It’s illegal to knowingly hire an illegal alien.”

Ventura County strawberry fields had far fewer workers Wednesday, a day after federal agents targeted the region for immigration raids.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

California’s two U.S. senators, both Democrats, issued a joint statement Wednesday decrying the farm raids, saying that targeting farmworkers for deportation would undermine businesses and families.

“Targeting hardworking farmworkers and their families who have been doing the backbreaking work in the fields for decades is unjustified and unconscionable,” Sens. Alex Padilla and Adam Schiff said in their statement.

The California Farm Bureau also issued a statement, warning that continued enforcement would disrupt production.

“We want to be very clear: California agriculture depends on and values its workforce,” said Bryan Little, senior director of policy advocacy at the California Farm Bureau. “We’re still early in the season, with limited harvest activity, but that will soon ramp up. If federal immigration enforcement activities continue in this direction, it will become increasingly difficult to produce food, process it and get it onto grocery store shelves.”

Arcenio Lopez, executive director of MICOP, said he is especially concerned about the prospect of Indigenous workers being detained, because many cannot read or write in English or Spanish, and speak only their Indigenous languages. The organization’s leaders suspect that many of those detained Tuesday are Indigenous, and are rushing to find them before they sign documents for voluntary deportation that they don’t understand. They’re urging that anyone who gets arrested call their hotline, where they offer legal assistance.

Rob Roy, president of the Ventura County Agricultural Association, said he has been warning growers since November that this time would come and providing training on their legal rights. Many know to ask for search warrants, he said. But that still leaves undocumented workers vulnerable on their way to and from work.

“I think overall here, they’re fairly safe on the farms or the building,” Roy said. “But when they leave work, they’re very concerned.”

Elaine Yompian, an organizer with VC Defensa, said she is urging families to stay home, if possible, to avoid exposure.

“We actually told a lot of the families who contacted us, if you can potentially not work today, don’t go,” Yompian said, adding that they are able to provide limited support to families through donations they receive.

Families whose loved ones have been detained are struggling to understand what comes next, she said.

“People are terrified; they don’t know at what point they’re going to be targeted,” Yompian said. “The narrative that they’re taking criminals or taking bad people off the streets is completely false. They’re taking the working-class people that are just trying to get by.”

This article is part of The Times’ equity reporting initiative, funded by the James Irvine Foundation, exploring the challenges facing low-income workers and the efforts being made to address California’s economic divide.

SAN DIEGO — Rivalries in baseball can sometimes be difficult to define.

There are the obvious ones. Like the Yankees and Red Sox. The Cardinals and Cubs. And for the Dodgers, going back to their founding in New York, a generations-old hatred for the Giants.

“By definition, you can’t just decide to choose your rivalry because one team gets good,” veteran third baseman Max Muncy said. “And for the Dodgers, that’ll always be the Giants.”

But periodically, there are other emotionally charged, highly competitive, and simmering clashes; often taking root between simultaneous contenders, bad-blooded division foes or closely situated fan bases sharing a mutual dislike.

Over the last half-decade, that’s what has slowly been built between the Dodgers and San Diego Padres.

And in their first renewal of the season on Monday night at Petco Park, an 8-7 extra-innings win for the Dodgers, the two clubs lived up to the matchup’s ever-growing hype.

“Both teams are good. The fan bases are very adamant. Both environments have been hostile over the last several years,” Muncy said. “It brings everything that a rivalry should bring.”

A traditional rivalry, it’s still not quite. The Dodgers have as many World Series titles as the Padres do playoff appearances (eight each). Since the Padres last won the National League West in 2006, the Dodgers have done it 13 times.

But after three playoff meetings in the last five years, and a seemingly tight division race on tap this season, Dodgers-Padres is now a full-blown, certifiably legitimate rivalry — at least in the eyes of Dodgers manager Dave Roberts.

“I think it’s become a rivalry,” Roberts said, “because the stakes have been higher.”

That was certainly the case last October, when the Dodgers outlasted the Padres in a memorable five-game National League Division Series.

But even entering Monday, the importance of this week’s three-game series at Petco Park — plus a four-game rematch between the teams next week at Dodger Stadium — had been magnified, the Dodgers leading the Padres by just one game in the National League West standings in their pursuit to defend last year’s World Series title.

“It’s going to be an intense series,” Roberts said. “It probably will feel like a playoff game tonight.”

It certainly played out that way.

Will Smith is showered in sunflower seeds thrown by Teoscar Hernández after hitting a two-run home run in the third inning against the Padres on Monday night.

(Orlando Ramirez / Associated Press)

Both teams scored twice in the first inning. The lead then changed hands three times between the second, when the Padres scored on a Will Smith throwing error; and the third, when Smith answered with a two-run homer to punctuate a three-run rally, only for the Padres to score three on a bases-loaded triple from Tyler Wade that got past a diving Teoscar Hernández in right center.

The Dodgers (40-27) got the game tied again in the fifth, with Hyeseong Kim doubling home Muncy in a rare opportunity against a left-handed pitcher (he is three-for-three in such situations this season).

The Padres (37-28) skirted even more trouble along the way. In the fourth, the Dodgers couldn’t take advantage of an infield pop-up that dropped between three Padres fielders. In the eighth, San Diego reliever Adrian Morejon misfired on the most routine of throws to first base with two outs, letting Shohei Ohtani reach second, but then struck out Freddie Freeman to escape unscathed.

But once the game reached the 10th, the Dodgers surged ahead. Andy Pages led off with a line-drive RBI double that outfielder Brandon Lockridge badly misread in left. Tommy Edman followed with an RBI single that ricocheted off the second base bag. And though closer Tanner Scott gave up an RBI double to Jackson Merrill — one at-bat after Manny Machado was rung up on a controversial called third strike — the former Padres left-hander limited the damage there.

Round 1 of Dodgers-Padres this year went to the defending champions. More heavyweight fights figure to follow.

I was driving while listening to the news Sunday when I heard House Speaker Mike Johnson justify President Trump’s move to send National Guard troops to Los Angeles.

“We have to maintain the rule of law,” Johnson said.

I almost swerved off the road.

Maintain the rule of law?

Steve Lopez

Steve Lopez is a California native who has been a Los Angeles Times columnist since 2001. He has won more than a dozen national journalism awards and is a four-time Pulitzer finalist.

Trump pardoned the hooligans who ransacked the Capitol because he lost the 2020 presidential election. They clashed with police, destroyed property and threatened the lives of public officials, and to Trump, they’re heroes.

Maintain the rule of law?

Trump is a 34-count felon who has defied judicial rulings, ignored laws that don’t serve his interests, and turned his current presidency into an unprecedented adventure in self-dealing and graft.

And now he’s sending an invading army to Los Angeles, creating a crisis where there was none. Arresting undocumented immigrants with criminal records is one thing, but is that what this is about? Or is it about putting on a show, occupying commercial and residential neighborhoods and arresting people who are looking for — or on their way to — work.

Protesters and members of the National Guard watched one another in front of the federal building in Los Angeles on Monday.

(Luke Johnson/Los Angeles Times)

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth warned that U.S. Marines were on high alert and ready to roll, and in the latest of who knows how many escalations, hundreds are headed our way.

What next, the Air Force?

I’m not going to defend the vandalism and violence — which plays into Trump’s hands—that followed ICE arrests in Los Angeles. I can see him sitting in front of the tube, letting out a cheer every time another “migrant criminal” flings a rock or a scooter at a patrol car.

But I am going to defend Los Angeles and the way things work here.

For starters, undocumented immigration is not the threat to public safety or the economy that Trump like to bloviate about.

It’s just that he knows he can score points on border bluster and on DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion), so he’s going full gasbag on both, and now he’s threatening to lock up Gov. Gavin Newsom.

To hear the rhetoric, you’d think every other undocumented immigrant is a gang member and that trans athletes will soon dominate youth sports if someone doesn’t stand up to them.

I can already read the mail that hasn’t yet arrived, so let me say in advance that I do indeed understand that breaking immigration law means breaking the law, and I believe that President Biden didn’t do enough to control the border, although it was Republicans who killed a border security bill early last year.

I also acknowledge the cost of supporting undocumented immigrants is substantial when you factor in public education and, in California, medical care, which is running billions of dollars beyond original estimates.

But the economic contributions of immigrants — regardless of legal status — are undeniably numerous, affecting the price we pay for everything from groceries to healthcare to domestic services to construction to landscaping.

Protesters shut down the 101 Freeway in Los Angeles on Sunday.

(Jason Armond/Los Angeles Times)

Last year, the Congressional Budget Office concluded that a surge in immigrants since 2021 — including refugees, asylum seekers and others, legal and illegal — had lifted the U.S. economy “by filling otherwise vacant jobs,” as The Times reported, and “pumping millions of tax dollars into state, local and federal coffers.”

According to a seminal 2011 study by the Public Policy Institute of California, “many illegal immigrants pay Social Security and other taxes but do not collect benefits, and they are not eligible for many government services.”

In addition, the report said: “Political controversies aside, when illegal immigrants come, many U.S. employers are ready to hire them. The vast majority work. Estimates suggest that at least 75 percent of adult illegal immigrants are in the workforce.”

Trump can rail against the lunatic radical left for the scourge of illegal immigration, but the statement that “employers are ready to hire them” couldn’t be more true. And those employers stand on both sides of the political aisle, as do lawmakers who for decades have allowed the steady flow of workers to industries that would suffer without them.

On Sunday, I had to pick up a couple of items at the Home Depot on San Fernando Road in Glendale, where dozens of day laborers often gather in search of work. But there were only a couple of men out there, given recent headlines.

A shopper in the garden section said the report of federal troops marching on L.A. is “kind of ridiculous, right?” He said the characterization by Trump of “all these terrible people” and “gang members” on the loose was hard to square with the reality of day laborers all but begging for work.

I found one of them in a far corner of the Home Depot lot, behind a fence. He told me he was from Honduras and was afraid to risk arrest by looking for work at a time when battalions of masked troops were on the move, but he’s got a hungry family back home, including three kids. He said he was available for any kind of jobs, including painting, hauling and cleanup.

Two men in a pickup truck told me they were undocumented too and available for construction jobs of any type. They said they were from Puebla, Mexico, but there wasn’t enough work for them there.

I’ve been to Puebla, a city known for its roughly 300 churches. I was passing through about 20 years ago on my way to a small nearby town where almost everyone on the street was female.

Where were the men?

Protesters shut down the 101 Freeway in Los Angeles on Sunday.

(Jason Armond/Los Angeles Times)

City workers repair broken windows at LAPD headquarters on Spring Street in downtown Los Angeles on Monday.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

I was told by a city official that the local economy was all about corn, but local growers couldn’t compete with American farmers who had the benefit of federal subsidies. So the men had gone north for work.

Another reason people head north is to escape the violence wrought by cartels armed with American-made weapons, competing to serve the huge American appetite for drugs.

In these ways, and more, the flow of people across borders can be complicated. But generally speaking, it’s simply about survival. People move to escape poverty or danger. They move in search of something better for themselves, or to be more accurate about it, for their children.

The narratives of those journeys are woven into the fabric of Los Angeles. It’s part of what’s messy and splendid and complicated about this blended, imperfect corner of the world, where many of us know students or workers or families with temporary status, or none at all.

That’s why this overheated invasion looks so ugly and feels so personal.

We’re less suspicious of our neighbors and the people we encounter on our daily rounds than the hypocrites who would pardon insurrectionists, sow division and send an occupying army to haul away members of our community.

[email protected]

By the time Cuco arrived at Dodger Stadium on a recent Tuesday evening, thousands of fans were already lined up outside the venue’s gates, waiting to be let in.

Though the matchup against the Arizona Diamondbacks wouldn’t begin for another two hours, these Doyer diehards made their way to Chavez Ravine early to catch the pre-game festivities. It was Mexican Heritage Night, and the team had plenty of entertainment planned for the fanbase that Fernando Valenzuela built: a mini-concert by the legendary La Original Banda el Limón de Salvador Lizárraga; a lucha libre exhibition; and the throwing of the ceremonial first pitch by Chavo Guerrero Jr., scion of the storied Mexican American Guerrero wrestling clan.

Luchadores perform in the outfield during Mexican Heritage Night at Dodger Stadium.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

To complete this hodgepodge of a cultural celebration, the Dodgers also asked Cuco to sing the national anthem, a fitting invitation given that the 26-year-old Inglewood-born and Hawthorne-raised artist, whose real name is Omar Banos, had just put out “Ridin’” (released May 9 via Interscope Records). The LP, his third, is an 11-track gem of L.A. Mexican Americana dripping with the ageless sounds of Chicano soul.

Donning a team cap, a long white tee, black shorts, Dodger blue Nike SB Dunk Lows and his trademark glasses, Cuco walked into the stadium entrance reserved for suite-level ticketholders accompanied by his manager and a social content creator. Despite a heat wave that raised that day’s temperatures into the high 80s, a black Dodgers windbreaker that he planned to wear later in the evening hung around his neck. Pinned to it was a button that contained a portrait of Jaime Mendoza, his late maternal grandfather.

“My grandpa was big on the Dodgers,” Cuco said, noting that it was because of him that his whole family rooted for the Boys in Blue.

Cuco wears a pin with his grandfather Jaime Mendoza’s picture at Dodger Stadium.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

As Cuco is escorted through the concrete bowels of Dodger Stadium by a pair of team publicists taking him to sound check, fans spot him and excitedly call out his name. Some even approach him for a selfie. When asked if he often gets recognized in public, the singer-songwriter chuckled.

“Yeah, if there’s a lot of Latinos around,” he quipped. “I’m always going to say yes to a photo. I’m never going to turn them down.”

It’s cliché for any artist to say that they’d be nothing without their fans, but this adage rings particularly true when it comes to Cuco. His loyal supporters, dubbed the “Cuco Puffs,” turned a former precocious marching band geek into a bonafide indie pop star.

He began his career in the mid-2010s by uploading Spanglish lo-fi love songs recorded in his childhood bedroom to Soundcloud and Bandcamp. Dreamy, synth-heavy ballads like “Lover Is a Day” (off of his first mixtape, 2016’s “Wannabewithu”) and “Lo Que Siento” (released as a single in 2017) quickly connected with countless bicultural, Gen Z Latinos, racking up millions of streams in the process. By the time Cuco started performing at backyard shows, he had packed crowds singing every lyric back at him.

Such was the hype around him that several labels got into a two-year bidding war to sign the unlikely teen idol with a ready-made fan base.

Cuco sings the national anthem before the Dodgers game.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

“I don’t need a label. The labels mostly need me,” Cuco told The Times in 2017. “Like, in no cocky way, the reality of it is labels stay up because of the artists.”

When Interscope finally won out in 2019, it was on the artist’s terms — Cuco inked a seven-figure deal that allowed him to retain ownership of his music and gave him the creative freedom to do what he wanted. He was 20 at the time.

That summer, he released his debut album, “Para Mi,” a notable first effort that paired a blissful sound — inspired by a slew of genres, including psychedelic rock, bossa nova, pop and quiet storm R&B — with lyrics that touched on loneliness and substance abuse (“Take this and fly away till the substance numbs the pain,” he sings in “Ego Death in Thailand”). The album’s first single, “Hydrocodone,” is a nod to the pain medication he was on after being involved in a near-fatal car crash while out on tour in 2018.

This March, Cuco celebrated three years of sobriety.

The year 2022 saw the release of “Fantasy Gateway,” an ambitious concept album heavily inspired by psych rockers Tame Impala that takes the listener to another dimension, featuring notable collaborations with artists like Mexico’s indie darling Bratty and fellow sadboi romántico DannyLux. “Sitting in the Corner,” recorded with música Mexicana crooner Adriel Favela and country singer Kacey Musgraves, is a space pop ranchera that yearns for a lover who has left.

“It’s the vibe, man,” he says of the musicians he chooses to work with. “It’s not really about artists being big or not. It’s just if I get along with them and they have cool ideas and it aligns with my personality.”

With “Ridin’,” Cuco delivers his most mature album to date. Produced by Thomas Brenneck (Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, Mark Ronson, Amy Winehouse), the record is a neo-Chicano soul instant classic that pays tribute to the likes of Brenton Wood, Al Green and Smokey Robinson — soul and R&B artists from the ’60s and ’70s whose music has been adopted by lowrider and Chicano culture — all while maintaining that distinct Cuco sound, a perfect marriage between the old and the new.

The album’s opener, “ICNBYH” (an abbrevation of “I Could Never Break Your Heart”), would be at home in an “East Side Story” mixtape compilation. Cuco’s psychedelia roots are most apparent in songs like “Ridin’,” a track that feels like you’re cruising on a spaceship down Whittier Boulevard.

“I couldn’t really try to make something that sounded exactly like [Chicano soul]. I was hoping to embody that timelessness, but I had to work in the most authentic way possible so that it felt that way,” he said.

“I wanted to go for more natural sounds with the soul sound, but I think it’s just inevitable for me sometimes. I’m just going to end up doing some psychedelic parts with the music because that’s what I’ve always been.”

“Ridin’” is an album of the summer contender for anyone whose idea of summer means hanging out at the beach with all your friends — this exact scenario describes the music video for the album’s first single, “My 45,” which stars Mexican American actress Xochitl Gomez as a femme fatale.

And while the LP is teeming with enough vehicular references to make Bruce Springsteen jealous (the cover shows Cuco sitting on top of his 1989 Toyota Supra), Cuco says “Ridin’” isn’t strictly meant for the car.

“I’m hoping that [“Ridin’”] is something that’s interpreted however the listener chooses to interpret it, whether they’re ridin’ in your car, ridin’ for somebody or just ridin’ through life,” he says.

After sound check, Cuco made his way back to the suite level to wait for the rest of his party to arrive, which included his parents, Adolfo Banos and Irma Mendoza. The only child of immigrants, the artist has made it a point to share his success with them. Forgoing wearing anything in Dodger blue, the elder Banos donned a hoodie from his son’s latest tour. Mendoza showed up wearing a team hat and a striped shirt. Affixed to it was a button identical to her son’s. It was her idea; she had made them the night before.

Cuco gets a hug from his dad after singing the national anthem.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

As it got closer to game time, the singer was ushered down to the field once again. It was showtime.

Cuco poses with his parents before singing the national anthem.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

“Please stand and remove your hats for the singing of the national anthem,” the stadium announcer said over the P.A. system. “Joining us today is Cuco, indie pop star from Hawthorne!”

Cuco took a beat before singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” in his patented soft and mellow voice. His parents stood approximately 20 feet away, beaming with pride. After it was all over, the singer quickly made his way to them, and was met with smiles and hugs.

A minute later, a production assistant grabs Cuco for his final obligation of the night. He’s handed a microphone and is escorted back to where he performed the national anthem. He’s met by a congregation of luchadores who will act as a chorus as he delivers the phrase popularized by the legendary broadcaster Vin Scully — “It’s time for Dodger baseball!”

In the fall, Cuco will go on a nationwide tour to promote the album — he’ll be performing at the Greek Theatre on Sept. 15. But right now it’s summer and he’s ridin’ with his loved ones, about to watch a game the Dodgers will end up winning 4-3 in extra innings.

If a movie inspires you to get up in the middle of a Koreatown steakhouse and do the robot with your waiter, isn’t that worthy of some kind of award, even if it’s not an Oscar?

I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. Let’s talk about “The Life of Chuck,” the latest Stephen King adaptation, a film possessing the pedigree of an Oscar best picture contender.

Can ‘Chuck’ extend Toronto’s Oscar streak?

The last 12 movies to win the Toronto International Film Festival’s People’s Choice Award have gone on to earn an Oscar nomination for best picture. It’s a list that includes eventual Oscar winners like “12 Years a Slave,” “Green Book” and “Nomadland.” Two years ago, Cord Jefferson’s “American Fiction” premiered at Toronto and parlayed the momentum from its People’s Choice prize into an adapted screenplay victory for Jefferson.

Suffice it to say, it’s a prime precursor.

Which makes the arrival of “The Life of Chuck,” last year’s People’s Choice winner, all the more of a curiosity. Neon, the indie studio behind best picture winners “Anora” and “Parasite,” bought the film out of Toronto after it won the award, voted on by festivalgoers. With not enough time to craft a marketing or awards season campaign, the studio slotted the movie for the summer of 2025. It opens in limited release today — you can find it in five theaters in the Los Angeles area — and will expand nationwide next week.

“The Life of Chuck,” adapted from a 50-page Stephen King story published in 2020, is feel-good tale about the end of the world. It is indeed about the life of Chuck, a prototypical King everyman, an ordinary accountant we don’t meet until the the second part of the movie’s backward-moving triptych. But we know about him because in the film’s opening section, the one with the world ending and California tumbling into the sea (Steely Dan was right!), Earth’s inhabitants are inundated with baffling billboards and ads featuring a picture of Chuck, thanking him for 39 great years.

Tom Hiddleston, star of “The Life of Chuck,” at the 2024 Toronto Film Festival.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

We eventually learn that Chuck, played as an adult by Tom Hiddleston, is a remarkable dancer and has lived a life filled with loss. In between the tragedies, there were moments of pure, unadulterated joy. The movie, faithfully adapted and competently directed by Mike Flanagan (the man behind Netflix’s “The Haunting of Hill House” and other horror tales), wants to leave you with the message that such moments are enough. And also to remind you that when these occasions come, we should recognize them and store them away as found gold.

It’s an original story arriving in a summer movie landscape dominated by sequels and retreads. Call it counterprogramming. Critics have been split, which isn’t surprising. You either suspend disbelief and settle into this movie’s vibe or you find yourself unmoved and checking the time, thinking that, in the momentary pleasure department, a root beer float would go down easier. I liked it well enough, but given the choice, I’d probably opt for the ice cream.

For “The Life of Chuck” to be an awards season play, moviegoers will need to fall for it as hard as audiences did at Toronto. That feels like a long shot, though maybe the film’s sweetness and optimism will resonate in the current moment. Times film critic Amy Nicholson was mixed on the movie and yet, as I mentioned at the outset, it did make her “make magic out of the mundane” and boogie with a waiter. She sent me the video. Don’t let her tell you otherwise … she’s a dancing machine.

Join us live!

Want to catch the Envelope in person? RSVP for our free live screening and Q&A with the stars of “Landman,” Billy Bob Thornton, Ali Larter, Andy Garcia and Jacob Lofland.

When: Saturday, June 7 at 2 p.m.
Where: The Culver Theater

Since I’m being a little wistful here, let me call your attention to a recent column I wrote about the late, great Linda Lavin, a singular talent who never won an Emmy.

That may surprise you, particularly if you were around when Lavin headlined the long-running CBS sitcom “Alice,” in which she played a widowed mom working as a waitress while pursuing her dream of singing. The series ran from 1976 to 1985, piling up more than 200 episodes, a spinoff for Polly Holliday (Flo, the “kiss my grits” sass-flinger) and a lasting reputation for presenting an early, understated feminist role model. Alice wasn’t nearly as brash as Bea Arthur’s Maude or quite as lovable as Jean Stapleton’s Edith Bunker, but like her contemporary Mary Tyler Moore, she could turn the world on with her smile.

Lavin, who died in December at 87, did earn two Golden Globes for the role and, after “Alice” ended, she won a Tony Award in 1987 for lead actress in a play for her turn as a Jewish mother navigating a changing world in Neil Simon’s “Broadway Bound.”

“It was one of the greatest stage performances I have ever seen, and I told her that the first day I met her,” says Nathan Lane, who had the opportunity to share his enthusiasm with Lavin when they worked together on the Hulu sitcom “Mid-Century Modern.” Lane recalls watching the play and choking up when Lavin absent-mindedly wiped off a phone receiver — her character was always cleaning — right after a wrenching phone call.

“She could do anything and make it look effortless,” Lane says. “Working with her was the happiest experience I’ve ever had in television.”

(Photo illustration by Susana Sanchez / Los Angeles Times; Getty Images / CBS Photo Archive)

In Emmy history, 33 actors — 22 men and 11 women — have been posthumously nominated. Most recently, Treat Williams earned a nod last year for his supporting turn in the FX limited series “Feud: Capote vs. the Swans.” Ray Liotta was nominated in 2023 in the same category for “Black Bird.” And in 1978, Will Geer received three posthumous nominations, including his last season on “The Waltons.” (He lost all three.)

Lavin has a legitimate case. She elevates “Mid-Century Modern” every time she’s onscreen with her vitality and comic timing. In April, she picked up a comedy supporting actress nod from the Gotham Television Awards.

You can read the entire column, which includes some terrific stories from “Mid-Century Modern” showrunners Max Mutchnick and David Kohan, here.

Have a great weekend. Hope you find a moment to dance.

Read more of Glenn’s Emmys coverage

OKLAHOMA CITY — Tyrese Haliburton and the never-say-die Indiana Pacers pulled off yet another last-second comeback, this time on the NBA’s biggest stage.

Haliburton’s 21-foot jumper with 0.3 seconds left gave Indiana its first and only lead of the game, and the Pacers stunned the Oklahoma City Thunder 111-110 on Thursday night in Game 1 of the NBA Finals after a comeback for the ages.

“Man, basketball’s fun,” Haliburton said. “Winning is fun.”

Especially like this.

The Pacers turned the ball over 25 times, trailed by 15 points in the fourth quarter against a team with the best home record in the NBA and had no answers for Shai Gilgeous-Alexander — the NBA MVP who led all scorers with 38 points.

But they had the league’s new Mr. Big Shot, who has now had one of these moments in every series the Pacers have played in these playoffs.

— April 29, Indiana trailed Milwaukee 118-111 with 34.6 seconds left in overtime. Haliburton scored with 1.4 seconds remaining and the Pacers won 119-118.

— May 6, Indiana trailed Cleveland 119-112 with 48 seconds left and won 120-119. Haliburton got the winner with 1.1 seconds to play.

— May 21, Indiana trailed New York 121-112 with 51.1 seconds left in regulation. Haliburton sent it to overtime on a jumper with no time on the clock; Indiana won 138-135.

Now, this.

“We’ve had lots of experience in these kinds of games,” Pacers coach Rick Carlisle said.

The Pacers were down by 15 with 9:42 left, their rally the biggest in the fourth quarter of a finals game since Dallas also came from 15 down to beat Miami on June 2, 2011.

Carlisle coached those Mavericks. And, well, here he is again.

“That’s a really good team,” Oklahoma City coach Mark Daigneault said. “Credit them for not only tonight but their run. They’ve had so many games like that that have seemed improbable. And they just play with a great spirit and they keep coming. They keep playing.”

Pascal Siakam led the Pacers with 19 points. Obi Toppin scored 17, Myles Turner had 15, and Haliburton and Andrew Nembhard each had 14.

Jalen Williams had 17 and Lu Dort scored 15 for Oklahoma City, which was 36-1 at home with 15-point leads this season.

Game 2 is at Oklahoma City on Sunday night.

Oklahoma City led by 15 early in the fourth when Carlisle called time and subbed out all five players, seeking a spark. It worked. The Pacers outscored the Thunder 15-4 over the next 3:26 — getting within 98-94 on a three by Turner with 6:16 left.

They weren’t done. And in the final second, they found a way. Again.

“We had control of the game for the most part,” Gilgeous-Alexander said. “Now, it’s a 48-minute game. And they teach you that lesson more than anyone else in the league — the hard way.”

Even though I’m technically a “professional” hiker, I do not excel at arriving to trailheads early.

Unless I’m camping.

Camping removes all distractions and simplifies my morning. Wake up. Boil water for coffee on the butane stove. Sit. Listen to the birds. Leave for a hike after two precious cups of java.

I also go to bed much earlier. I’m not binging shows like Netflix’s “The Diplomat” with my wife or as interested in playing 17 rounds of Solitaire on my phone as a means to lull me to sleep. I simply lie down in the darkness, sleepy from an adventurous day and hot meal, and quickly fall asleep. Perhaps the version of myself I am while camping is something I should try to carry with me.

I know we’re all thinking about how we can squeeze every ounce of delight out of the summer. I’ve been daydreaming about campgrounds, including the three below.

These three spots will allow you to get up, make your coffee and get to the trailhead early (if you want to).

You’ll notice several blackened trees on the Burkhart trail that were burned in the 2020 Bobcat fire.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

Buckhorn Campground

About an hour’s drive from L.A., Buckhorn is a 38-site, first-come, first-served campground shaded by large incense cedars and pine trees. It is $20 per night, payable by cash or check. It is situated along a creek just off California State Route 2 in Angeles National Forest.

The campground sits at around 6,500-feet elevation, providing a shady respite in the hottest summer months. Each camp site includes a picnic table, a fire ring and bear box, which you should use. It is a popular spot, so plan your arrival times accordingly. (Arriving before noon on a Friday should secure you a spot on a non-holiday weekend.)

Cooper Canyon Falls cascades down the hillside near the Burkhart Trail.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

Waking up at Buckhorn, you’ll be a quick walk from the Burkhart Trail, an 11.3-mile point-to-point segment of the High Desert National Recreation Trail that ends at the Devil’s Punchbowl Natural Area. Most hikers take the Burkhart Trail 1.5 miles from its trailhead to Cooper Canyon falls, which descends about 30 feet into a refreshingly cold pool. On one camping trip, my friend Hannah and I plunged into the water together, screaming on our way up to the surface. Once the shock subsided, it felt great.

Other trails near the Buckhorn Campground include the Pacific Crest Trail, which you can take as far as you’d like, or the 53-mile Silver Moccasin National Recreation Trail. The trailhead for Mt. Waterman, which dedicated Wild readers will know is one of my faves, is across the street from Buckhorn.

Grinnell’s beardtongue, red columbine, grape soda lupine and sanddune wallflower on the Burkhart Trail.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

Chilao Campground

Chilao is an 84-site, first-come, first-served campground in Angeles National Forest. It is $20 per night, payable by cash or check. The campground features large boulders, sweeping views and, like the other two campgrounds listed, tall trees. You’ll need to bring your own water. Potable water is often available, but per the forest service, isn’t turned on right now.

1. One of the many shaded campsites at Chilao campground. 2. Some of the campsites at Chilao campground offer sweeping views of the surrounding mountains.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

Chilao is one of my happy places. A cool breeze is blowing through my window right now, making it easy to close my eyes and remember lying in a hammock at my campsite here, looking up at the pine trees as I debated whether I would keep reading my book or take a nap.

From Chilao, you can take a portion of the Silver Moccasin Trail and some fire roads to Mt. Hillyer, a fun little spot with large boulders to scramble over. Another option is to take the Silver Moccasin Trail to other segments of the forest, including a 6.6-mile hike to the Vetter Mountain fire lookout, where you can be inducted into the Ancient and Honorable Order of the Squirrels.

The boulders at Mt. Hillyer.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

Manker Flat Campground

Hikers head up the Devil’s Backbone Trail in their quest to reach Mt. Baldy.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

Manker Flat is a 21-site, first-come, first-served campground at 6,000-feet elevation near Mt. Baldy. It is $14 per night, payable by cash or check. Shaded by tall evergreens, each site has a picnic table and fire ring. The campground has vault toilets. Potable water isn’t presently available. Bears are known to frequent this campground, so plan accordingly.

Manker Flats will likely be my next trip, as I’ve been lusting over a trip up to Mt. Baldy since the route reopened. I envision hiking about 3.4 miles from my campsite up to Top of the Notch, having a quick bite and continuing the arduous but rewarding journey to the Mt. Baldy summit.

And instead of having to drive back home, I could simply arrive back at my tent, cook my dinner over a campfire and crash in my tent, looking up at the twinkling stars. That sounds like living!

The sunset from the trail to Mt. Baldy.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

3 things to do

The southern Los Cerritos Wetlands.

(Jason Lustig)

1. Walk among raptors in Los Cerritos
The Los Cerritos Wetlands Land Trust will host a free guided nature walk through the southern Los Cerritos Wetlands from 8 to 10 a.m. Saturday. Ecologists will teach walkers about raptor habitat in the area and native people who lived in the area and their role in recent restoration efforts. Guests must wear close-toed shoes. A $5 donation is requested for those who are able to give. Register at eventbrite.com.

2. Yank invasive plants in Griffith Park
Friends of Griffith Park will host a trail maintenance day from 8:30 to 11 a.m. Saturday. The group will meet at the merry-go-round parking lot and then head to catch basins at the bottom of Fern Canyon where they’ll remove mustard, castor and other invasive plants. Volunteers should wear close-toed shoes or boots, long pants and sleeves, and bring a reusable water bottle, sunscreen and a hat. The organization will provide tools and water. Learn more and sign the waiver at friendsofgriffithpark.org.

3. Take a Dam good ride in El Monte
ActiveSGV will host a 20-mile bike ride from 8 a.m. to noon Saturday exploring the hidden gems of the Santa Fe Dam. This ride will start and finish at the Jeff Seymour Family Center (10900 Mulhall St., El Monte) and include both city streets and bike paths. Riders will learn about the Emerald Necklace network, a 17-mile series of parks, greenways and trails. Participants can register to ride an e-bike for free. Register at eventbrite.com.

The must-read

A recently collared wolf from the Beyem Seyo pack is released close to where she was captured by a helicopter team.

(Malia Byrtus / California Wolf Project/UC Berkeley)

One of the most remarkable things I’ve seen in the outdoors is a black wolf crossing a meadow in Yellowstone National Park and then leaping several feet in barely a second at a deer that likely became its next meal. It’s a sight that hikers in Northern California increasingly have the chance to see, as the state now has a confirmed 10 wolf packs. Times staff writer Lila Seidman talked to experts who said there could be more than 70 wolves in California now. This is cause for celebration in conservation circles. But the resurgence of wolves in California, hunted to extinction about 100 years ago, has led to an increasing number of the canines killing cattle instead of the deer and elk that state wildlife officials expected them to eat. Killing wolves is a crime, but Sierra County Dist. Atty. Sandra Groven recently told Times staff writer Jack Dolan that she would not prosecute a rancher who kills a wolf caught preying on cattle. “What are they supposed to do? Run up and wave their arms and say, ‘Go away’?” Groven said. But Axel Hunnicutt, the gray wolf coordinator at the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, cautions that the recovery of California’s wolf population is only occurring because they’re protected. “On the flip side, it would not take very much to completely topple these 10 packs,” Hunnicutt said.

Happy adventuring,

P.S.

If you’re concerned about the future of trails in the Santa Monica Mountains, consider attending the Santa Monica Mountains Fund’s event from 5 to 7 p.m. this Saturday at the Anthony C. Beilenson Interagency Visitor Center in Calabasas. Money from your $50 ticket will be spent on the fund’s “Trails Forever” campaign aimed at restoring and protecting hikes throughout the Santa Monicas. It’s great food for a great cause!

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.