writer

SUNNYVALE, Calif. — A young woman is desperate to raise $50,000 for her mom’s life-saving medical treatment. She will get the money, but only if she agrees to her stepsister’s unusual proposal: to marry her wayward fiance, who comes from a wealthy family but also has a rap sheet.

That’s the plot line for an episode of “The Double Life of My Billionaire Husband.”

That may sound like a telenovela. In fact, it’s a popular series that appears on ReelShort, an app where audiences can view on their smartphones over-the-top, dramatic tales reminiscent of soap operas called micro dramas.

Unlike a regular TV show, this drama unfolds over 60 episodes, each lasting one to three minutes. After six episodes, viewers hit the paywall, where they could continue watching ad-free with a $20 weekly subscription, watch ads or pay as they go.

Already, the series has garnered more than 494 million views since it launched in 2022 and ReelShort says it has made more than $4 million from the show.

With titles like “The Billionaire Sex Addict and His Therapist,” “How to Tame a Silver Fox” and “Pregnant by My Ex’s Dad,” micro dramas lean heavily into sensationalism and light on budgets, which are typically less than $300,000 per series. And many of them are filmed in Los Angeles.

Director and co-writer Cate Fogarty watches actor Diego Escobar on dual vertical monitors. The film, by platform DramaShorts, is shot vertically to be adapted for viewing on a phone screen.

(Juliana Yamada/Los Angeles Times)

Short serialized dramas first took off in China, where they are hugely popular and generated revenues of $6.9 billion last year, even surpassing domestic box office sales, according to DataEye, a Shenzhen-based digital research firm.

Now, Hollywood is starting to take note of the bite-sized format.

In August, the venture arm for Lloyd Braun — the former ABC executive and chairman of talent agency WME — and L.A.-based entertainment studio Cineverse formed a joint venture called MicroCo to build a platform for micro dramas.

“Traditional Hollywood moved away from a whole genre and storytelling that fans love, and I think micro dramas really took advantage of that and really leaned into that fandom,” said Susan Rovner, chief content officer of MicroCo.

Studio interest

Major studios are investing in micro dramas in an attempt to replicate China’s success and find new ways to appeal to younger audiences that are accustomed to watching short-form videos on TikTok, YouTube, Instagram and other platforms while on the go.

Fox Entertainment recently announced an equity stake in Ukraine-based Holywater, a producer of micro dramas. Under the deal, Fox Entertainment Studios (a division of Fox Entertainment) will produce more than 200 vertical video titles over the next two years for Holywater.

And Walt Disney Co.’s accelerator program, which invests in startups, recently named micro drama business DramaBox, whose parent company is based in Singapore, as part of its 2025 class.

David Min, Walt Disney Co.’s vice president of innovation, said he believes micro dramas will continue to do well, especially with younger audiences accustomed to watching entertainment on their phones.

“We have to be where everyone is consuming their content, so that’s an opportunity for us,” Min said in an interview. “…This is just another new platform to experiment with and explore and see if it’s right for the company.”

First assistant director Chakameh Marandi, left, and actress Leah Eckardt wait during filming at Heritage Props last month in Burbank.

(Juliana Yamada/Los Angeles Times)

This year, ReelShort, which is based in Sunnyvale, Calif., says it will produce more than 400 shows, up from 150 last year.

All of the productions are filmed in the U.S. and mostly in Los Angeles, said ReelShort CEO Joey Jia in an interview. The company plans to build a studio in Culver City that will adapt its most popular micro dramas into films.

“We offer a lot of opportunity,” Jia said.

Warsaw-based DramaShorts said in 2026 it aims to shoot 120 micro drama projects in the U.S., up from 45 to 50 this year. About 25% of those will be in the L.A. area.

DramaShorts co-founder Leo Ovdiienko says, “People are so used to consume content through social media, through TikTok, through Instagram, through Facebook and to share information.” .

(Juliana Yamada/Los Angeles Times)

“People are so used to consume content through social media, through TikTok, through Instagram, through Facebook and to share information,” said DramaShorts co-founder and Chief Operating Officer Leo Ovdiienko, 29, in an interview. “I believe it’s only a matter of time before the big players will also come to this stage.”

The company works with production partners in L.A. who employ actors, writers and crew members who work on the quick-turn projects, a bright spot in a struggling job market.

“The plus side of filming in L.A. is it is the epicenter of Hollywood,” said executive producer, writer and director Chrissie De Guzman, who has worked on DramaShorts projects. “We know how the state of our industry is doing right now, so a lot of talent have moved into the vertical space.”

Though vertical dramas are the length of a movie, they are spliced up into small chapters and produced quickly. A 100-page script might be shot in just one week as opposed to a month for a feature film.

Each chapter usually features a cliffhanger or dramatic moment — whether that’s a slap or a character in danger.

“It just hits every little emotional point,” said Caroline Ingeborn, chief operating officer at Palo Alto-based Luma AI, which provides micro drama companies with AI tools. “It hooks you in like this and because it’s so easy to press [Play]. You just need to see the next episode.”

The crew of vertical film “Sleeping Princess” break between scenes.

(Juliana Yamada/Los Angeles Times)

Labor tensions

With ultra-low budgets, many of the productions are non-union, prompting some writers and actors to work under pseudonyms to avoid facing sanctions from their unions, said several people who work on the shows.

In an effort to address the issue, performers union SAG-AFTRA recently announced it has created agreements that cover low-budget vertical dramas.

Writers Guild of America West President Michele Mulroney said in an interview the union is aware that “there are companies that are trying to do this work non-union, so the guild wants to help our members … in ways that they can work on verticals and make sure they get that work covered.”

Micro drama producers said they welcome talking with the unions, but questioned whether their business models could support union contracts.

“We’re not anti-union at all,” said Erik Heintz, executive producer at Snow Story Productions, which makes vertical dramas for platforms including DramaShorts.

Despite labor tensions, these short-form dramas have provided a key source of employment for Hollywood workers who’ve struggled to find jobs as production has moved out of California.

Corey Gibbons, 44, a director of photography, said vertical dramas kept him in the business when other work dried up.

“I have a feeling that we’re on the brink of something that’s really going to change,” Gibbons said. “I’m just excited to be a part of it.”

So was 27-year-old actor Sam Nejad, a former contestant on “The Bachelorette” who started acting in vertical dramas in January. He said he’s landed one or two lead roles a month since then and can earn $10,000 a week.

“It’s a new art,” Nejad said. “The new Tarantinos, the new Scorseses are all coming through this.”

ReelShort’s office in Sunnyvale looks more like a typical Silicon Valley startup than a Hollywood studio.

Jia, the chief executive, sits at a desk in an open floor seating area with his staff. Along the office walls are framed posters with titles like “Prince With Benefits,” “Never Divorce a Secret Billionaire Heiress” and “All the Wrong Reasons.” Jia proudly points out why each program was notable on a recent tour of the space.

“I don’t have money to hire celebrities,” Jia said. “I have 100% rely on story.”

The 46-year-old entrepreneur, who has an electrical engineering background, launched his business in 2022. At the time, there wasn’t much interest from Hollywood studios.

The skepticism followed the high-profile collapse of Quibi, the startup led by studio mogul Jeffrey Katzenberg and tech executive Meg Whitman, that worked with A-list movie stars on series that would appear on an app in short chapters. Quibi raised $1.75 billion, only to shut down roughly six months after launching.

Jia took a different approach. Rather than signing expensive deals with celebrities, he hired students or recent graduates from colleges like USC to work at his company.

Jia approves all of the micro drama stories at ReelShort, which he says is expected to generate $1 billion in revenue this year.

A ReelShort representative declined to disclose the company’s earnings but said the business is profitable.

Jia said ReelShort has 70 million monthly active users, with 10% of them paid users.

The churn — the rate at which customers drop weekly subscriptions — can be more than 50% at ReelShort, Jia said. That makes it paramount for the company to have a steady stream of content that entices customers to keep paying. Currently it has more than 400 in-house titles and roughly 1,000 licensed titles.

Like others in the genre, ReelShort and DramaShorts rely heavily on data metrics like customer retention and paid subscribers to make their content decisions.

“A lot of directors are thinking, when I shoot the film, ‘I don’t care how people think, this is my creation, it’s my story,’” Jia said. “No, it’s not your story. Your success… should be determined by the people.”

RAPPER Nelly was accused of taking writer credit on song he didn’t write on his hit albums Country Grammar and Nellyville in a massive $10 million lawsuit. 

The U.S. Sun can exclusively reveal that the Hot In Herre artist was sued in federal court in May after a lawsuit was initially lobbed at him in a local Missouri court in 2024. 

Production company D2 filed an amended complaint against Nelly, 50, in August. 

The suit read “D2 is a production company started in a local community skating rink by twin brothers Darren Stith and David Stith.

“D2 was known for developing producers and talents and giving them an opportunity to further their art and careers.”

The brothers claimed: “They were directly responsible for finding, nurturing, and bringing to the public the music of Nelly and the group known as the ‘St. Lunatics.’”

Read More Nelly and Ashanti

beach babe

00s RnB legend, 45, strips off to swimsuit on holiday with rap star husband

St. Lunatics was made up of Nelly, Ali Jones, Torri Harper, Robert Kyjuan Cleveland  and Lavell Webb, aka City Spud.

In the suit, D2 alleged that they had a contract with both Nelly and the St. Lunatics, separately, but that they released the Ride Wit Me rapper from his contract with them in June of 2000, with a $75,000 payment.

D2 claimed that Nelly, in a secret agreement, claimed a writer credit on songs that weren’t written by him, and were actually written with the St. Lunatics, which made it so the artists were able to avoid paying D2 royalties on those songs.

“The Songs, which were included on the Country Grammar and Nellyville albums, sold over twenty million copies.

“D2 was never paid its portion of the revenues that were legally due to D2 under Lunatic Agreements with Harper, Cleveland, and Jones (and then the Publishing Agreement), but went to Nelly instead under the Secret Arrangement,” the suit went on to allege. 

Nelly and the St. Lunatics are being sued by D2 for more than $10,000,000 for breach of contract, fraud, conspiracy and breach of good faith and fair dealing. 

D2 is also suing Nelly specifically for tortious interference, which essentially means the rapper putrposely interfered with D2’s business. 

The suit said the Air Force One’s rapper “intentionally induced, and caused an interruption of D2’s contractual relationship with, and its business expectancy with, Harper, Cleveland, and Jones, by proposing, negotiating, entering into, and implementing the Secret Arrangement.

“Nelly knew or should have known that his actions would interfere with the Lunatic Agreements and cause D2 to lose revenue it was entitled to receive from the Songs pursuant to the Lunatic Agreements, and later, through the Publishing Agreement,” the suit claimed. 

In September, Nelly, along with Cleveland and Harper, attempted to get the suit dismissed. 

The case is ongoing. 

Earlier this week, Nelly’s wife, Ashanti, was seen sporting a bathing suit on a trip to Barbados just after her 45th birthday on October 13.

Nelly was not seen during the outing, though their child, Kareem Kenkaide ‘KK’ Haynes, was with her for the trip.

She and Nelly welcomed their son in July of last year. 

ON SCREEN

Recently, Nelly and Ashanti landed their own reality series after splitting up and later reuniting.

The pair dated on and off for 10 years after first getting together in 2003, but thought their 2013 breakup was final.

However, they surprised fans by getting back together a decade later. 

Wasting no time, Nelly and Ashanti tied the knot just three months after making their reunion public. 

The trailer for Nelly & Ashanti: We Belong Together was released ahead of the show’s premiere in June.

Fans quickly took to the comments on the first-look, with one saying, “This is the show I never knew I needed.”

Another wrote: “We’re all rooting for you, Nelly and Ashanti!”

FOOLED FOR LOVE

Dating app conman robbed me of £90k… it could happen to anyone

HOUSE THAT

Five home improvements you can get for FREE to help cut £2,000 off energy bills

A third added: “So here for these two being happy and in love.”

The show’s debut came just hours after The Sun exclusively revealed the truth behind rumors that Nelly had cheated on Ashanti.

STOCKHOLM — Hungarian writer László Krasznahorkai, whose philosophical, bleakly funny novels often unfold in single sentences, won the Nobel Prize in literature Thursday for his “compelling and visionary oeuvre that, in the midst of apocalyptic terror, reaffirms the power of art.”

The Nobel judges praised his “artistic gaze which is entirely free of illusion, and which sees through the fragility of the social order combined with his unwavering belief in the power of art,” Steve Sem-Sandberg of the Nobel committee said at the announcement.

“László Krasznahorkai is a great epic writer in the Central European tradition that extends through (Franz) Kafka to Thomas Bernhard, and is characterized by absurdism and grotesque excess,” the Nobel judges said.

The work that won the Nobel Prize in literature

Zsuzsanna Varga, a Hungarian literature expert at the University of Glasgow, said Krasznahorkai’s apocalyptic and surreal novels probe the “utter hopelessness of the condition of human existence,” while also managing to be “incredibly funny.”

Varga said Krasznahorkai’s near-endless sentences made his books the “Hotel California” of literature – once readers get into it, “you can never leave.”

Other books include “The Melancholy of Resistance,” a surreal, disturbing tale set in a small Hungarian town, and “Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming,” the sprawling saga of a gambling-addicted aristocrat.

Several works, including his debut, “Satantango,” and “The Melancholy of Resistance” were turned into films by Hungarian director Béla Tarr.

Varga suggested readers new to Krasznahorkai’s work start with “Satantango,” his debut, which set the tone for what was to follow.

“Satan who is dancing a tango — I mean, how surreal can you be?” she said.

Krasznahorkai has also written several books inspired by his travels to China and Japan, including “A Mountain to the North, a Lake to the South, Paths to the West, a River to the East,” published in Hungarian in 2003.

How Krasznahorkai came to win

Sem-Sandberg said that Krasznahorkai had been on the Nobel radar for some time, “and he has been writing and creating one outstanding work after another.” He called his literary output “almost half a century of pure excellence.”

Krasznahorkai, 71, couldn’t immediately be reached for his reaction. He didn’t speak at the announcement.

He was born in the southeastern Hungarian city of Gyula, near the border with Romania, and has since traveled the world. Throughout the 1970s, he studied law at universities in Szeged and Budapest before shifting his focus to literature.

Krasznahorkai has been a vocal critic of autocratic Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, especially his government’s lack of support for Ukraine after the Russian invasion.

But in a post on Facebook, Orbán was quick to congratulate the writer, saying: “The pride of Hungary, the first Nobel Prize winner from Gyula, László Krasznahorkai. Congratulations!”

In an interview with Swedish newspaper Svenska Dagbladet earlier this year, Krasznahorkai expressed criticism both of Orbán’s political system and the nationalism present in Hungarian society.

“There is no hope left in Hungary today and it is not only because of the Orbán regime,” he told the paper. “The problem is not only political, but also social.”

He also reflected on the fact that he has long been a contender for the Nobel Prize in literature, saying: “I don’t want to lie. It would be very interesting to get that prize. But I would be very surprised if I got it.”

Previous awards for Krasznahorkai and the other Nobels this year

Krasznahorkai has received many earlier awards, including the 2015 Man Booker International Prize. The Booker judges praised his “extraordinary sentences, sentences of incredible length that go to incredible lengths, their tone switching from solemn to madcap to quizzical to desolate as they go their wayward way.”

He also won the National Book Award for Translated Literature in the U.S. in 2019 for “Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming.”

The American writer and critic Susan Sontag once described Krasznahorkai as the “contemporary master of the Apocalypse.” He was also friends with American poet and writer Allen Ginsberg and would regularly stay in Ginsberg’s apartment while visiting New York City.

He’s the first winner from Hungary since Imre Kertesz in 2002. He joins an illustrious list of laureates that includes Ernest Hemingway, Toni Morrison and Kazuo Ishiguro.

The literature prize has been awarded by the Nobel committee of the Swedish Academy 117 times to a total of 121 winners. Last year’s prize was won by South Korean author Han Kang for her body of work that the committee said “confronts historical traumas and exposes the fragility of human life.”

The literature prize is the fourth to be announced this week, following the 2025 Nobels in medicine, physics and chemistry.

The winner of the Nobel Peace Prize will be announced on Friday. The final Nobel, the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences, will be announced on Monday.

Nobel Prize award ceremonies are held on Dec. 10, the anniversary of Alfred Nobel’s death in 1896. Nobel was a wealthy Swedish industrialist and the inventor of dynamite who founded the prizes.

Each prize carries an award of nearly $1.2 million, and the winners also receive an 18-carat gold medal and a diploma.

Manenkov, Lawless and Corder write for the Associated Press. Corder reported from The Hague, Netherlands, and Lawless from London. Justin Spike contributed to this report from Budapest, Hungary.

Writer Alex O’Keefe, whom police detained last month in a viral seating dispute on a New York City train, is off the hook for alleged disorderly conduct.

A New York City administrative judge dismissed a civil summons against former “The Bear” writer O’Keefe on Tuesday, ending its case against him. O’Keefe informed his Instagram followers that “the charges against me were dismissed” and “deemed by the judge facially insufficient.”

“That’s legal-ese for [‘BS’],” O’Keefe says in the video as he stands outside the courthouse. “They never had anything on me … they were trying to make an example of me.”

O’Keefe attorney Lindsay Lewis said in a Wednesday statement that the writer’s legal team “commends the Court for reaching the only just and correct result based on the law — a complete dismissal of the case.”

Last month, O’Keefe uploaded videos of the Sept. 18 incident to Instagram. He documented MTA police in New York placing him in handcuffs for alleged disorderly conduct. In the caption of his post, the speechwriter — who is Black — alleged that officials detained him on a train after an “old white woman” complained about how he was sitting. He claimed the woman took issue with the “one Black person on the train.”

The MTA Police Department confirmed it responded to a “report of a disorderly passenger” at the Fordham Metro-North station in the Bronx. A conductor reported that a 31-year-old passenger occupied two seats and “refused to remove his feet from one of the seats.”

Police accused O’Keefe of placing both his legs across an adjacent seat, violating the rail line’s rules. They also accused him of refusing police directions to exit the train onto the platform and to board a following train. O’Keefe delayed service “for several hundred other riders for six minutes,” police alleged, and was handcuffed and removed from the train.

In his Instagram post about the incident, O’Keefe alleged that a friend of the woman who scolded his manner of sitting told him, “You’re not the minority anymore.” He added that police “arrested” him without “even talking to the Karen who reported the one Black person on the train” and that only other Black passengers recorded the dispute.

Police refuted that and said O’Keefe “was not placed under arrest at any time” during the incident.

O’Keefe doubled down on his previous denials of wrongdoing in a statement shared Tuesday, writing, “I was harassed and detained for sitting while Black.

“Today, the court made a clear judgement: I did nothing illegal on September 18. Like millions of New Yorkers, I was going to work to earn a living and support my family,” he added. “Even though this absurd case was dismissed today, I will continue to defend the civil rights of every New Yorker. Every worker has a right to a safe commute.”

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Christopher Soto, the founder of the Center for California Literature.

Los Angeles is, historically, a haven for writers and poets. In its city sprawl and California light, L.A. has fostered legendary writers from Joan Didion to Octavia E. Butler, created countercultural literary communities like the Watts Writers Workshop, and inspired Raymond Chandler’s “The Long Goodbye” and Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451.”

Despite Los Angeles’ contributions to a rich literary history, the literary community struggles to stay rooted in place as writers’ spaces and financial support move elsewhere.

Take the National Endowment for the Humanities, which canceled over $10.2 million in humanities and arts funding to already-awarded projects in California. Or the devastating Pasadena and Altadena wildfires that decimated historic libraries and cultural archives.

For writers across the city, L.A. can feel like shaky literary ground. That’s where Christopher Soto has stepped in.

Soto is a poet and author of the debut collection “Diaries of a Terrorist,” a contributing writer at Image and now the founder of the Center for California Literature.

The Center for California Literature is Soto’s hopeful initiative for connecting writers across L.A. through readings, conversations and advocacy. In a period in which writers feel unsupported and concerned about the state of the arts, Soto says that the center is needed in L.A. more than ever.

The inspiration came about after Soto was commissioned by the L.A. Times to write a piece titled “Writers on Loving and Leaving Los Angeles,” about writers having to move out of L.A. due to a lack of opportunities. He says right as he was working on the article, it was decommissioned. The reason? The books editor who would have worked on it was laid off and subsequently had to leave L.A.

“It was so ironic. That article and the research I did for it really led me to see that there is a need for a structural solution. People shouldn’t have to choose between having a thriving arts life and having to leave their home,” Soto says.

Soto knew that waiting would only exacerbate the literary loss; if he wanted change, he said he needed to make it. He reached out to inspiring writers in his community for their support and found that people were searching for a place to gather and organize themselves. Roxane Gay, renowned author of the New York Times bestselling novels “Bad Feminist” and “Hunger,” is one of the center’s biggest supporters.

“There’s a lot of stories that literature is dead, or that literary communities are dying, but clearly they’re not. They’re alive and they’re well and we have to remember that,” Gay says. “Writing is a very solitary endeavor, but while we might write alone, we don’t exist as writers in the public sphere alone. We need community, whether it’s people to share our work with, people who understand our frustrations, or having people who will read our work.”

Soto and Gay imagine a future where the center is shaped by writers’ needs. With community as a centerpoint, the organization aims to serve poets and authors by giving them a platform to share their work, attend workshops and create connections among peers.

Gay joined a collective of notable speakers the night of the center’s official launch, which took place at Central L.A. start-up gallery Giovanni’s Room and was co-hosted with the Los Angeles Review of Books. Outside the launch, pupusas were sizzling and poets and book nerds stood in line for a bite or a read from a nearby Libros con Alma pop-up book cart.

The long line approaching the door was full of chatter and reunited friends, who stepped into the lobby and talked closely over the music mixed by DJ Izla. Although the gallery itself filled up quickly, growing warm and pupusa-scented, the energy was one of excitement and anticipation for people’s favorite authors and for a new beginning in the L.A. writers world.

In a corner of the gallery, in front of a paper backdrop and lush potted plants, Grammy-nominated contemporary poet aja monet stepped before the mic to open the night. She was assertive the moment she spoke, clarifying the pronunciation of her name (ah-ja) and simply introducing poems from her time as a political organizer in Florida.

As monet delved into her work, her voice was serious, contained and bursting with emotion. With every stanza, she settled into a musical rhythm that was satiric and bitingly honest. Her poems ranged from swampy oppressive memories of Florida to the nature of poetry to musings on hypocritical activists.

“A poem can rinse, reflect and reveal us / I give thanks for the intimacy of planting poems / the living that brings poems into being,” monet read.

The crowd hummed and swayed in agreement and cheered in recognition of the feelings that she captured. After her moving set, Viet Thanh Nguyen picked up right where she left off. Nguyen is best known for his debut Pulitzer Prize-winning novel “The Sympathizer,” which discusses the Vietnam War’s impact on the U.S. through the lens of a Vietnamese American immigrant who navigates Hollywood social politics, integration and racial tension.

In the section Nguyen read that night, the main character challenges stereotypes of Vietnamese characters in a film, an attempt that is quickly shut down by a Hollywood executive. Nguyen chuckled as he finished — “The Sympathizer” was adapted into an HBO show, placing Nguyen into the very Hollywood spaces he criticized. He acknowledges this and affirmed that “after spending a lot of time in Hollywood, nobody has disputed this characterization.”

Author, actor and television writer Ryan O’Connell added to the conversation with a lengthy reading of “The Slut Diaries,” explorations of rediscovering sexuality in his 30s as a gay man with cerebral palsy. His reflections on sex and dating through the lens of gay and disabled identity, and the hilariously vulgar encounters that ensued, drew hoots and hollers from the crowd.

Camille Hernandez, a writer and poet laureate of Anaheim, was among O’Connell’s laughing audience.

“I love being from here, and I want to lift up the literature from here. It is really beautiful that you could be from some place with such a rich literary heritage, but it’s such a travesty that not many people know about it, so efforts like this are so important to uplifting writers like us, who can be funny and honest like Ryan O’Connell or inspiring like Roxane Gay once they have the community to support them,” Hernandez says. “We deserve this.”

As Gay closed the night, her brief statement encapsulated the promising energy of the center’s first gathering.

“We deserve the material and creative resources to practice our craft. We deserve an abundant community that is mindful of the past and active and engaging the present and able to imagine a radical and expansive future,” Gay said. “And so I hope that everyone here will join us in that work.”

As authors, poets and hopeful writers filtered out into the crisp night, conversations abounded about what was next. Some were excited for an afterparty rumored to feature Erykah Badu. Others projected a next reading presided by an even bigger crowd, feeding the hunger for the literary arts that the center aims to feed. Whatever comes next, the literary community of L.A. has a new home to gather in.

No one goes to Cannes expecting to be frightened by a film about a long-dead British writer. Unless, of course, that writer is George Orwell.

When Raoul Peck’s documentary “Orwell: 2+2=5” premiered at the festival in May, the crowd reacted with the startled tension of a horror screening — gasps, murmurs, a few cries — before finally breaking into thunderous applause.

What they saw on screen felt both familiar and terrifyingly current. Peck builds the film entirely from Orwell’s words, delivered in a low, steady burn by actor Damian Lewis (“Billions”), repositioning the dying author of “Nineteen Eighty-Four” in his final tubercular days on the Scottish Isle of Jura, into today’s world. His vision of power, propaganda and language as a weapon meets a barrage of torn-from-the-news imagery: refugees adrift on boats, authoritarian leaders twisting the truth, AI hallucinations blurring what’s left of reality. The film, to be released nationwide on Friday by Neon, plays less like a documentary than a séance in which Orwell’s ghost watches his own warnings play out: urgent, relentless, immersive as a nightmare.

Peck says the Cannes reception didn’t surprise him.

“I knew it would touch a nerve,” Peck, 72, says over Zoom from New York. His calm, French-accented voice — he’s based in Paris but travels frequently — carries the quiet fatigue of someone who’s spent decades watching history repeat itself. “It’s not just a problem of the U.S. — it’s everywhere. We have all sorts of bullies and there’s no reliable sheriff in town. Even the most powerful institutions are on shaky ground. I knew the film would either break people or energize them. If you’re a normal citizen, a normal human being, you must ask yourself questions when you come out of it.”

There are no talking heads in Peck’s film, no experts spelling out the relevance of an author who died in 1950. Instead, he draws from the writer’s letters and diaries, as well as the longer-form works like the barnyard political allegory “Animal Farm” and the dystopian novel “Nineteen Eighty-Four.” He also weaves in fragments from past screen adaptations of Orwell’s titles, including the 1954 animated “Animal Farm” and Michael Radford’s stark, desaturated adaptation of “Nineteen Eighty-Four” starring John Hurt, cross-cutting them with current images of drone wars, surveillance and algorithmic control.

A scene from the documentary “Orwell: 2+2=5.”

(Velvet Film)

“Raoul has been unbelievably thorough,” says narrator Lewis via Zoom from his home in London, where he regularly rides his bike past one of Orwell’s former residences. “The film is dense in the best way, thick with ideas and images. You come out of it feeling like you’ve been through something important.”

Lewis, who delivers Orwell’s words with a steely intensity that builds toward alarm, says his warnings have only grown more urgent.

“I read recently that about 37% of countries in the world are now categorized as not free,” he adds. “That’s getting dangerously close to half the planet. What Raoul’s film captures — and what Orwell saw so clearly — is how authoritarian ideas don’t arrive overnight. They creep up on us, little by little, as words like ‘democracy’ get redefined to mean whatever those in power want them to mean.”

Peck’s filmmaking has long blurred the line between art and activism. Born in Haiti, he fled with his family from François Duvalier’s dictatorship in 1961 and grew up in what was then the Republic of the Congo (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo), where his father worked for the United Nations. After studying engineering and economics in Berlin, he returned home to serve as Haiti’s minister of culture in the 1990s. His breakthrough, the Oscar-nominated 2016 film “I Am Not Your Negro,” channeled James Baldwin’s words to examine race and power in America and the country’s uneasy reckoning with its past. He continued that exploration in HBO’s “Exterminate All the Brutes” (2021), tracing the myths of empire and white supremacy that shape the modern world.

“If I can’t mix politics and art, I probably wouldn’t make a project,” Peck says. “That’s what Orwell himself said — ‘Animal Farm’ was the first time he was really trying to link politics with art. And that’s what I’ve been trying to do all my life as a filmmaker.”

Few writers have been more quoted — or misquoted — than Orwell. Decades after coining ideas such as Newspeak (state-controlled language) and doublethink (the ability to hold two contradictory beliefs at once), he’s been claimed by every side: Fear-mongering politicians cite him, pundits weaponize him, partisans wield “Orwellian” as shorthand for whatever offends them most. Even President Trump recently praised Orwell in the same breath as Shakespeare and Dickens at a state banquet at Windsor Castle.

Asked what Orwell would make of that, Peck gives a small, mirthless laugh.

“He would probably faintly smile,” he says. “Because that’s exactly what he wrote about — how thought corrupts language and language corrupts thought. We’re living doublespeak now in an exponential way, the bully using the words of justice and peace while bombing people at the same moment. It’s so absurd. That’s why I feel so close to him. Coming from Haiti, I learned very early that what politicians were saying never matched my reality.”

George Orwell, author of “1984” and “Animal Farm,” whose warnings about power and language echo through the timely documentary “Orwell: 2+2=5.”

(Associated Press)

Peck came to the project warily. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to touch Orwell,” he admits. “Where I come from, Orwell had been turned into a kind of Cold War mascot.” Raised under Mobutu Sese Seko’s U.S.-backed regime in what became Zaire and later educated in America and Europe, he was keenly aware of how Orwell’s legacy had been co-opted, from the CIA’s funding of the 1954 animated “Animal Farm” to the deployment of his books as Cold War propaganda.

“That was not something that interested me,” Peck says. “I grew up deconstructing everything I was getting from the West, including Hollywood movies.”

Then came a call from his friend, Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker and producer Alex Gibney (“Taxi to the Dark Side”), who was involved with a project that had secured the rights to Orwell’s complete body of work and wanted Peck to direct it.

“How could I say no?” he recalls. “For a filmmaker like me, who loves to dig deep into someone’s mind and work, it was an incredible gift.”

What Peck found wasn’t a prophet or a symbol but a man full of contradictions: a writer wrestling with class, illness and empire, trying to fuse politics and art before his own time ran out. That realization deepened when he came across a photograph of Orwell as a baby in the arms of his Burmese nanny, a white child of the British Empire cradled by the colonized woman charged with his care. Born into what he called the “lower-upper-middle class,” Orwell gradually recognized his own complicity in the system he opposed and came to despise his role as a kind of middle manager in the machinery of oppression.

“His own biography — born in India, sent to Burma as a young soldier, doing what he did there and being ashamed of it — drew him closer to my own experience,” Peck says. “We were from the same world. We saw the same things.”

To embody Orwell, Peck turned to Lewis, also known for “Band of Brothers” and “Homeland.”

“I knew I was telling a story, not making a traditional documentary,” Peck says. “So I needed a great British actor, someone with real stage experience. I knew Damian could bring the presence I wanted — to be Orwell, not imitate him. That was the main direction I gave him: to work from the interior.”

“If we don’t bring rules around AI very rapidly, we won’t be able to put the paste back in the tube,” says filmmaker Raoul Peck. “AI is an instrument and should stay an instrument. That means we’re using it. It’s not using us.”

(Justin Jun Lee / For The Times)

Lewis, who had previously voiced Orwell for the international Talking Statues project — an app that lets passersby scan a QR code to hear historical figures “speak” — approached the feature-length performance with similar restraint.

“His language, the rhythm of his prose, dictates the rhythm of delivery,” he says. “Raoul was very clear that it should sound intimate and conversational, not overly formal. That’s what we tried to aim for — something direct, specific, detailed and personal.”

Much of “Orwell: 2+2=5” unfolds like a fever dream, Orwell’s words colliding with scenes from the present, including bombed-out streets in Gaza and Ukraine. “There were too many conflicts to include,” Peck says. “So I had to find the connections — what repeats, how bodies are treated, how power behaves.”

In one of the film’s most charged moments, Peck turns Orwell’s warning about political language into a montage of modern euphemisms: “peacekeeping operations,” “collateral damage,” “illegals” — and then, pointedly, “antisemitism 2024.” He knows the inclusion is provocative but says that’s the point: to show how words can be twisted or emptied of meaning, including in debates over Israel’s war in Gaza.

“Every word is precise,” Peck says. “I don’t say the Jews, I don’t say Israel, I say the Israeli administration. But even then, there’s a reflex — you can’t touch this.”

At Cannes, that moment drew applause. One of Peck’s closest friends — a Jewish writer who, he notes, agrees with him on nearly everything politically — told him later that while she was deeply moved by the film, she’d felt a jolt of fear as the audience clapped.

“We talked about it,” Peck says. “In France today, you can’t touch that term. And for me, that’s the beginning of the end — when you can’t speak your mind.”

He recalls being in New York after 9/11, unable to voice unease about the flag-waving and rush to war. “I cried like everybody else,” he says. “But when, after five days, you’re asked to wave a flag, that’s using your humanity for war. The point is the same — to shut down conversation.”

Peck carries Orwell’s warning into the digital present. The writer’s words play against AI-generated images and voices, echoes of the future he once imagined.

“He wrote about it without knowing it would be called AI,” Peck says. “He said someday you’d be able to write whole books and newspapers with artificial intelligence — exactly what’s happening now.”

For Peck, the technology is the next front in the battle over truth and power. In his film, every AI-generated sound, image and piece of music is clearly labeled with onscreen text.

“There should be transparency about that,” he says. “If we don’t bring rules around AI very rapidly, we won’t be able to put the paste back in the tube. Profit is the only guideline right now — nobody’s controlling its impact, not on energy, not on children, not on schools. AI is an instrument and should stay an instrument. That means we’re using it. It’s not using us.”

Even as “Orwell: 2+2=5” reaches theaters, Peck is already working on two new documentaries, including one about the 2021 assassination of Haitian President Jovenel Moïse.

“It’s an incredible geopolitical mess,” he says. “Every day I discover more. I need to go back to fiction for a while — documentaries are exhausting. But I can’t complain. I wish everyone could be as passionate about their work as I am.”

For all its darkness, Peck insists on leaving a sliver of light. He points to Orwell’s line in “Nineteen Eighty-Four”: “If there is hope, it lies in the proles.”

“The civil society is always the one who saved the day — the civilians, the students, the churches, the alliances,” he says. “Like the civil rights movement. Blacks, Jews, whites, churches, everybody sat down around the table and decided to have a strategy. And unfortunately, that’s the only thing we have. It’s long and it’s hard, but that door is still open. It’s us, individually and collectively, who have to make that choice.”

What keeps him going, he says, isn’t optimism so much as duty.

“If I lived completely engulfed in my own bubble, I’d probably be desperate,” he says. “What keeps me grounded is that I still have friends in Congo. I still work with Haiti every day. I talk with journalists who risk their lives in Gaza. So I can’t afford to look at those people and say, ‘I’m tired.’ They’re still doing the work.”

He pauses, his voice tightening. “People laugh at the latest stupidity from the president, as if it’s funny,” he says. “But that’s a dictatorship coming. He’s attacking every institution — newspapers, academia, justice, business. It’s the same playbook. They change the laws first, because most people would rather obey the law than say ‘No, two plus two equals four.’ That’s what authoritarian leaders count on.”

He sits quietly for a moment. “People are waiting for miracles,” he says finally. “But there are no miracles.”

Fifty years ago, I headed north for the first time. I’d dropped out of my university literature course – with the arrogance of youth, I thought I could read books anywhere. After a chance meeting in a Putney pub, I got a job as assistant cook in the Bird Observatory in Fair Isle. At that point, I didn’t even know where Fair Isle was. I came from Devon and hadn’t made it farther north than Durham. Scotland was unknown territory.

Of course, Fair Isle is part of the Shetland group and lies halfway between Shetland mainland and Orkney. That summer, I fell in love with the Northern Isles, with the romance of the isolation, the bleak beauty and the stories. Over the summer, I worked in the observatory with Alison, an Orcadian lass, who was there for her college holidays. “When you’ve finished your contract,” she said with the easy hospitality of islanders everywhere, “why don’t you come and stay? It’s kind of on your way home.”

It kind of was, and so I did. Alison lived with her parents in a solid house on the outskirts of Kirkwall. After my nine-month stay on Fair Isle – three miles long and a mile and a half wide, a scattering of crofts, 50 people and a lot of sheep and seabirds – Kirkwall felt like civilisation. There was a beautiful cathedral, a street of shops and bars, schools and a hospital. What struck me most, though, were the views. Much of Orkney mainland is low and green, and there are lochs so big that a stranger might think they were looking at the sea. So, there are long vistas from land to water and then land again. And more water. All under a huge sky.

At that time, Alison was more into partying than history, so I didn’t do a lot of sightseeing. We went to a dance at the Harray community hall, and I drank too much. There was little communication with the locals there. I’d become used to a Shetland voice, but an Orkney accent is quite different, lilting, musical, almost Welsh. I missed much of what was said to me.

Later, I got the plane to London, on my way home. If Kirkwall had seemed big, London with its towering buildings was overwhelming, and I scuttled west on the train to be on the coast again.

Over the years, I’ve come to know Orkney better. My husband and I went to Alison’s wedding in the cathedral. She was magnificent in a grand white dress, and she sailed up the aisle to Chariots of Fire. That evening there was another party, only a little more sedate than the Harray dance. Drink was passed round in the traditional Orkney way, in a wooden bowl, known as the cog, created for the purpose. I’m not sure what was in it, but it was warm, and it packed a punch.

At other times, we stayed with friends who lived in a converted chapel, looking down to the Stones of Stenness. Just as there’s always a view of water in Orkney, there’s always a reminder of its neolithic past, and I would come to explore the islands’ history more deeply when I was researching my latest novel, The Killing Stones.

Over time, we explored some of the smaller islands: Hoy with its dramatic cliffs, the tiny island of Papa Westray, home to the Knap of Howar, the oldest domestic stone dwelling in Northern Europe, and North Ronaldsay, where we stayed in the Bird Observatory’s accommodation, a reminder of the work that first took me north. North Ronaldsay is surrounded by a stone dyke, not to keep animals in, but to keep them out on the shore. The island sheep have adapted to living on seaweed, and perhaps because of that the meat is delicious.

For years though, Shetland was the focus of my trips north. One of my best friends lives there, and I was still writing the Jimmy Perez books, adapted for television as Shetland. In 2018, I decided to finish the series with the novel Wild Fire. I didn’t think I could find anything fresh to say about a community of only 23,000 people. I’d already killed too many of them.

The book ends with Perez and his partner moving south to Orkney. Perhaps I was influenced by a real police inspector, who covered both sets of islands and made the move. Certainly, I had no intention of writing about Perez again.

More recently, I felt a longing to go north again in my fiction, a kind of homesickness for the islands, for the dark winters and the bright, light summers. For the dramatic contrast between long, clear horizons and secrets hidden in small communities. I remembered that first image of Orkney, the stretches of land and water, and I realised it was time to go back. After all, to explore Perez’s new life, I’d have to stay there. It’s small details that bring a book to life, and Google research can’t help with that.

I stayed with my friend Stewart in his rather grand house on Orkney mainland. He became my driver, fixer and human research. I’d met him first when he worked for Orkney libraries. We’d had book-related adventures together – flying into North Ronaldsay in the eight-seater plane to celebrate the anniversary of a scheme that brought book boxes to islanders, and a crazy attempt to set a record by doing 24 events on 24 of the Northern Isles in 24 hours. We met the challenge, but only with the support of library staff in Orkney and Shetland, and the help of other writers.

My research visit took place in December 2023. It was clear, still and very cold. The frost didn’t melt all day. Stewart took me to the island of Westray, where he grew up and his family still farms. We stayed in the Pierowall Hotel, which features in the novel, and explored the site of the abandoned Noltland dig near Grobust Bay. I talked to his parents and to volunteers in the Heritage Centre. The book wouldn’t have been written without their help.

Back on Orkney mainland, we explored Kirkwall and Stromness and drove south across the Churchill Barriers, the causeways built between islands after a German U-boat entered Scapa Flow in 1939 and sank HMS Royal Oak. I was met everywhere with kindness and the most useful information. The pattern of the book was starting to take shape.

I ended my stay with an almost mystical experience. Maeshowe is a neolithic burial chamber. Entry is through a low, narrow tunnel positioned so that at the winter solstice, as the sun sets behind the hills of Hoy, the light floods in. There aren’t many entirely cloudless winter dusks in Orkney, but we were lucky enough to experience the magic. In the chamber, first a trickle of apparently liquid gold ran across the floor, then it grew wider and wider until it flooded the entire space with light. As the sun set, all was dark again.

I believe that setting is more than a pretty backdrop to the action. It informs character and moves the action of the plot. The Killing Stones couldn’t have been set anywhere other than Orkney, and I couldn’t have written it without spending time there with Orcadians.

The Killing Stones by Ann Cleeves is published by Pan Macmillan at £22. To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply

On the day that Michele Mulroney was elected president of the Writers Guild of America West, writers won a significant victory. After writers protested ABC’s suspension of “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” for days, the network brought the late-night show back on air.

“Our currency is words and stories, and the freedom to be able to express ourselves is really important, and so our members could not feel more strongly about this and of course we will be speaking out and lobbying and working in any way we can to protect this fundamental right,” Mulroney said in a recent interview.

Mulroney, formerly the WGA West vice president and a writer on the 2017 “Power Rangers” movie and 2011 film “Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows,” enters her new role at a time when the industry is facing significant challenges.

Those include major consolidation in the industry as studios look to cut costs and move TV and film production overseas because of hefty financial incentives. The climate has been tough for many writers who have struggled to find work after enduring a 148-day strike in 2023. After the walkout, writers did secure groundbreaking protections for AI in contracts, but they are still confronting AI models ripping off their work without compensation.

As the guild gears up for contract negotiations next year, Mulroney said she plans to build on earlier gains in AI and other areas, and aims to convince the studios to pay more for WGA’s health plans amid rising healthcare costs.

“It’s going to need some support from the companies,” Mulroney said. “Their drastic pullback in production and employment led to a pretty severe industry contraction that has contributed to some strain on our funds. We’ll be looking to them to help fix that with us.”

When asked about whether she thinks there is appetite among WGA’s members for another strike, Mulroney said “it’s way too early to speculate about that.”

“It’s really hard out there in the industry for all industry workers and for many of our members, but our members have shown time and again that when they have to, when it’s necessary, we are ready to fight for the contract we deserve,” Mulroney said.

The Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers declined to comment, but in an earlier statement said its members look forward to working with her “to address key issues for WGA writers and to strengthen our industry with fair, balanced solutions.”

A studio-side source who was not authorized to comment said that the WGA health plan faces “complex financial challenges that require a balanced approach to align with market norms and ensure long-term stability.”

To keep costs down, studios have been moving more productions to the U.K. and other countries offering significant financial incentives, shrinking job opportunities for entertainment industry workers in Southern California. Some have had to move out of state to look for jobs.

Unions including the WGA lobbied for California to boost annual funding for its film and TV tax credit program and succeeded in raising that amount to $750 million, from $330 million.

“This was a real bright spot of good news in an otherwise really bleak and tough time for our industry,” Mulroney said in an interview last week. “Now there needs to be federal action on this, too, so we’ll continue working with our allies to try to keep production in the U.S., and specifically in Hollywood, in Southern California.”

Mulroney declined to comment on President Trump’s renewed threat to impose a 100% tariff on foreign-made films.

Another big worry for writers has been artificial intelligence. The WGA has been outspoken about wanting studios to sue AI companies that writers say are taking their scripts for training AI models without their permission. Earlier this year, studios including Disney, Universal and Warner Bros. Discovery took legal action against AI companies over copyright infringement.

“We were glad to see some of the studios come off the sidelines and file lawsuits to protect their copyright from these AI companies that are stealing our members’ work to build their models,” she said. “I think we will probably be dealing with AI and wrangling that for the rest of our lives, right?”

Mulroney, 58, ran uncontested, receiving 2,241 votes or 87% of the votes cast, according to the union. CBS series “Tracker” writer and co-executive producer Travis Donnelly became vice president, and TV comedy show “Primo” executive producer Peter Murrieta became secretary-treasurer.

Mulroney grew up in the U.K., the daughter of a factory worker and a janitor. She’s served on the union’s board of directors for four terms and as an officer for six years prior to being elected president.

Mulroney’s background was in theater and theater directing, but she had always dabbled in writing. In her 20s, she worked in development for a British TV and film studio where she read a lot of scripts, which led her to think, “Maybe I could write one of those things.”

Her first writing gig was for a PBS children’s show called “Wishbone,” about a Jack Russell terrier who imagines himself as a character in literary classics. She’s been a screenwriter for 25 years and is based in West Hollywood with her husband and writing partner, Kieran.

Mulroney succeeds Meredith Stiehm, who led the union during the 2023 strike.

Kimmel coming back on air was a parting gift to Stiehm, said Mulroney, adding that the union is still watching the situation.

“We’re still monitoring,” Mulroney said. “I somehow doubt this is the last instance we’re going to see where censorship and free speech are going to be a topic.”

Calabasas High senior Elie Samouhi, who considers himself a music producer, performer and writer of songs, got to do his own two-minute concert in front of fans on Friday night before the Los Alamitos-Calabasas football game.

He played the national anthem on his electric guitar. And it was good.

Like a coach trying to give his student confidence, Samouhi’s teacher kept telling him before he began, “You got this.”

You could see how much he enjoyed the spotlight during the rendition.

Samouhi said he’s been playing guitar since he was 5. He’s 18 and hopes to attend USC or NYU.

It was another positive experience during high school sports competition.

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email [email protected].

Warner Bros. Discovery has joined a key copyright infringement case that could test the legal bounds of using artificial intelligence to create digital replicas of well-known characters.

The company on Thursday filed a copyright infringement lawsuit in Los Angeles federal court against AI company Midjourney Inc., alleging its image generator produces blatant rip-offs of Warner’s well-known and copyright-protected characters, including Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman and Scooby-Doo.

With the suit, Warner Bros. Discovery joins a legal fight brought in June by Walt Disney Co. and Comcast’s Universal Pictures. The Disney and Universal lawsuit marked the first salvo by major studios to elevate the legal struggle over AI-enabled intellectual property, calling it content theft.

The addition of Warner Bros. Discovery could boost Disney’s and Universal’s case. The three entertainment industry leaders control much of the most valuable intellectual property in Hollywood.

Disney’s stable includes Star Wars, Woody the Cowboy, Winnie the Pooh, the Simpsons and Disney princesses. Universal boasts such beasts as the Hulk, Shrek and the Minions.

Warner Bros. controls characters from DC Comics , Looney Tunes and Hanna-Barbera .

It sued on behalf of Warner Bros. , DC Comics, Turner Entertainment Co., Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc., and the Cartoon Network. The company, which asked for a jury trial, is seeking unspecified damages and an injunction.

The companies allege the four-year-old San Francisco firm Midjourney, which has millions of paid subscribers, built its business off decades of hard work by Hollywood artists, writers and studios.

Midjourney, on its website, describes itself as “an independent research lab exploring new mediums of thought and expanding the imaginative powers of the human species.” Midjourney offers its subscribers use of an image generator to create high-resolution digital depictions, including famous characters like Batman.

Warner Bros. Discovery, Disney and Universal allege that Midjourney trained its generative AI programs by using their copyrighted works. They contend that Midjourney-enabled creations are almost identical to their original copyrighted cartoons. Warner Bros.’ lawsuit included side-by-side renderings of its characters and Midjourney’s reproductions to illustrate the identical details, such as the color of Scooby-Doo’s collar and fur.

Midjourney did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

“The heart of what we do is develop stories and characters to entertain our audiences, bringing to life the vision and passion of our creative partners,” Warner Bros. Discovery said in a statement. “Midjourney is blatantly and purposefully infringing copyrighted works, and we filed this suit to protect our content, our partners, and our investments.”

Warner Bros. Discovery pointed to the value of its franchises, including its DC Comics movies. Films featuring the DC Extended Universe, which were released from 2018 through 2023, generated more than $7 billion in global ticket sales. Each film earned an average of $479 million, the lawsuit said.

“Only Warner Bros. Discovery has the right under U.S. Copyright law to build a business around reproducing, preparing derivative works, distributing, publicly displaying, and performing images and videos featuring its copyrighted characters,” the company said in its lawsuit.

Such exclusive rights and protections allow Warner Bros. Discovery and other studios to make massive investments in content, the lawsuit said, adding: “That is the cornerstone of the U.S. Copyright Act.”

Hollywood performers and writers in recent years have voiced grave concerns about the rapid development of generative AI. The technology is expected to revolutionize the film industry and lead to fewer jobs.

Curbs on the use of generative AI became a sticking point in the historic 2023 strikes by actors and writers.

Disney and Universal applauded Warner Bros. for joining their legal battle.

“Disney is committed to protecting our creators and innovators, and we’re pleased to be joined by Warner Bros. Discovery in the fight against Midjourney’s blatant copyright infringement,” Disney said in a statement.

This summer, I read my way around Los Angeles and highly recommend the experience.

There were plenty of freshly published L.A. novels to dive into: My literary journey began in pre-Eaton fire Altadena (“Bug Hollow”) and ended in a run-down Hollywood mansion crawling with influencers (“If You’re Seeing This, It’s Meant for You”); other novels transported me to West Adams Heights post-World War II (“The Great Mann”), Laurel Canyon of the mid-’60s (“L.A. Women”), contemporary Glendale (“The Payback”) and, farthest afield, Salton Sea (“Salt Bones”). And while the novels varied greatly, each was engagingly local. The familiar L.A.-ness of narratives populated with malls, dreamers and celebrities real and fictionalized added to those books’ appeal, while others set in less familiar (to me) communities enriched my understanding of the area.

To help you choose your next L.A. literary adventure, we asked five authors to tell us why they set their latest novels in and around SoCal, along with their favorite local spots to visit.

(Phoebe Lettice Thompson)

‘L.A. Women’

Ella Berman

The title of this retro novel telegraphs its setting while echoing an earlier work by Eve Babitz, a famous L.A. scenester who contributed to Movieline magazine when I worked there decades ago, though as a newcomer to the city I did not appreciate it then. Berman’s novel centers on two, rather than one, woman: A pair of frenemies — reminiscent of Joan Didion and Babitz — circle each other in the Laurel Canyon creative scene during the mid-’60s to early-’70s, navigating relationships with rock stars and visits to the Troubadour and Chateau Marmont as the free love vibe begins to sour.

Why L.A.? “This story couldn’t have been set anywhere other than Los Angeles,” says Berman. “The central relationships, conflict and emotional stakes are all a product of this beautiful city during this period of cultural upheaval.” To get the period details straight, she relied on a friend “who had lived in Hollywood since the late 1950s,” writing the first chapter from a hotel room in West Hollywood after lunch with her. “Later, I walked up to the Canyon Country Store immortalized by Jim Morrison in ‘Love Street’ and I felt a sense of wonder for the ghosts of the past.”

Fave hangout spots: “I love anywhere that feels like I’m time traveling so a classic margarita at Casa Vega, the eggplant parmigiana at Dan Tana’s, a show in the close-up gallery of the Magic Castle or a martini at Musso & Frank’s always deliver,” says Berman, who also loves to browse the Rose Bowl Flea Market for midcentury treasures and vintage band T-shirts.

‘The Payback’

Kashana Cauley

Once a Hollywood costume designer, Jada is working in an unspecified mall that seems suspiciously like the Glendale Galleria when Cauley’s novel begins, but that job doesn’t last either. Sticky fingered and bogged down with college debt, she ends up recording ASMR videos to make money while fleeing the debt police — until she and her pals come up with a scheme to erase their financial woes. The storyline will surely resonate among those saddled with their own college debt or just feeling pinched by rising costs at the grocery store.

Why Glendale? “I wanted my main character, Jada, to feel truly kicked out of Hollywood, as she is,” the writer with credits on “The Daily Show With Trevor Noah” explains. “So part of me was like, well, where’s the farthest place, vibe-wise, you can get from Hollywood, and still, in Jada’s case, feel very L.A., and the Glendale Galleria fit.” Cauley much prefers the Galleria to the Americana and says fellow transplant Jada feels the same.

Favorite spot: “These days I’ve been hanging out at Taqueria Frontera in Cypress Park because I’m unable to fight my massive addiction to their carne asada queso-taco. It’s perfect. The meat is tender and just the right amount of salty. The cheese is present without being overwhelming. It comes with a handsome scoop of quality guac and a charming green salsa,” she says. “But also the restaurant itself is a vibe. It feels more outdoor than indoor because of a big row of stools out front that’s alongside the kitchen. And it attracts a large, laid-back crowd that feels like a party.”

‘Salt Bones’

Jennifer Givhan

Far from L.A.’s suburban sprawl, a Salton Sea butcher is haunted by the disappearance of girls in a novel suffused in Latina and Indigenous cultures. The water that once sustained the community is horribly polluted and younger characters dream of escape; Mal, the mother of two daughters, is visited by a shapeshifter in her dreams. A book for fans of mysteries and magical realism, it illuminates the environmental hazards of agrifarming in Southern California.

Why Salton Sea? Growing up in the area, her mother warned her that the water was poisonous. “We could smell for ourselves the fish die-offs, the weeks-long stink of toxic algal blooms,” she says. Visiting later, Givhan heard from a friend that the Salton Sea was drying up and releasing toxic chemicals like arsenic from decades of pesticide runoff and “became increasingly concerned about the fate of the place that raised me.” When activists encountered apathy from Sacramento politicians, “I knew I had to tell this story,” she says. “My soapbox may have been slippery, but people tend to love murder mysteries. So I wrapped my heart in one.”

Fave SoCal spots: “Anything by the water; I love hanging out on the beach and eating tacos. As I write in all of my novels, the water haunts me,” Givhan observes. “Many of the pages of ‘Salt Bones’ were drafted while we were living in Chula Vista and making trips back to the Salton Sea and surrounding communities for research. I started this novel at Imperial Beach, where we couldn’t go into the water because of the sewage problem and the signs warning No Nadar! Then I moved to Coronado Beach. On the way onto the peninsula, we’d stop at a great little burrito place for breakfast burritos, and I’d haul my portable typewriter to a picnic bench, set it up with the ocean spread before me and start tapping away.”

‘If You’re Seeing This, It’s Meant for You’

Leigh Stein

Back in Hollywood, influencers have set up shop in a crumbling mansion with an infamous past, desperate to go viral; the owners of the property are looking for sponsorship money to pay for its repairs. In steps photographer turned entertainment journalist Dayna, who gets dumped on Reddit in humiliating fashion as the book opens. Stein’s novel, in case that description does not make clear, has much to say about Hollywood, social media and the creator economy; at its heart is a gothic horror story wrapped up in a mystery with satirical undertones.

Why Hollywood? “Like ‘Sunset Boulevard,’ my novel is about fears of aging and irrelevance in an industry that runs on youth and beauty,” Stein says. “I’m obsessed with how the creator economy is completely reshaping the media and entertainment industries.” The mansion is inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright’s Ennis House in Los Feliz, which has appeared in movies including “Blade Runner” and also has a troubled legacy. “The more research I did, the more it seemed cursed,” she says.

Fave L.A. haunts: “I’m originally from Chicago and I first fell in love with Los Angeles through Francesca Lia Block novels, where everything is magic and draped in curtains of bougainvillea,” the author says. “My ideal day in L.A. would be taking the Berendo Stairs to Griffith Park, checking out the staff recommendations at Skylight Books and going to Erewhon to get their spicy buffalo cauliflower and some overpriced adaptogenic beverage that promises to change my life.”

‘Loved One’

Aisha Muharrar

Less overtly L.A. than the rest of the novels on this list, “Loved One” unfolds in L.A. and London following the death of Gabe, a 29-year-old indie musician who was the first love of Julia, a UCLA law student who became a Hollywood jewelry designer. Eager to reclaim his prize possessions for her and Gabe’s mother’s sake, she meets Gabe’s girlfriend Elizabeth in England. Through a series of flashbacks, key moments in Julia’s relationship with Gabe — and her life in L.A. — are revealed.

Why L.A.? Muharrar initially resisted the idea of setting her book in L.A., but ultimately felt moving there would just be the logical next step for a musician like Gabe, who has “a passion and then, career-wise, it turns out L.A. is the best place to pursue it.” Julia, she notes, arrives in L.A. for school with one career goal in mind and then ends up doing something else.” In the end, “it’s just a place people live.”

Fave L.A. hangout spots: “I love the bookstores: Reparations Club, Chevalier’s, Skylight. And I also love Silver Lake Library. It closed in July for several months of renovations and won’t be open until 2026 and I am, no exaggeration, devastated,” she says. “Also: Above the Fold in Larchmont. Is it the last newsstand in L.A.? I think it might be.”

Editor’s note: The newsstand has since closed.

When I learned R.F. Kuang was taking readers to hell in her newest book, I groaned. Haven’t we done this enough? I’m not just talking about Orpheus retrieving Eurydice, Dante’s “Inferno” and Virgil’s “Aeneid.” Nor the 19th century poets and cults obsessed with everything chthonic. We as a culture have done katabasis — that is, a journey into the underworld — a lot recently: Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s “Gods of Jade and Shadow” (2019), Leigh Bardugo’s “Hell Bent” (2023) and Netflix’s “Kaos” (2024).

(I’m sure it has nothing to do with the political instability we’re facing. We probably shouldn’t worry about the historical pattern of writers becoming obsessed with the living journeying into hell whenever things aren’t going great in society. I’m sure it’s fine.)

I didn’t think there could be much new here. “Katabasis” is a dark academia fantasy where the protagonist — a psychologically wounded but talented student, lacking self-love, perspective or even just one friend to talk sense into her — journeys into hell to fetch the soul of a mentor she’s in thrall to … and may have killed. If this sounds familiar, well, Kuang’s newest hero, Alice Law, does bear similarities to Bardugo’s Alex Stern.

But I was wrong — there are new things here. The journey into hell has been done, but it hasn’t been done quite the way R. F. Kuang does it.

Like “Babel,” which relied on R.F. Kuang’s knowledge of linguistics, “Katabasis” is rich and textured because of her familiarity with the subject.

(John Packman)

Alice Law and her partner-in-hell, Peter Murdoch, are acutely aware of their literary predecessors, even guided by maps based on those journeys. They go because their doctoral advisor, a man they hate and worship in equal measure, has died and they need him back to ensure they get a good teaching position after graduation. It’s a flawed reason, and a greedy one, a fact neither character seems to understand. They don’t seem to see themselves fitting in anywhere in hell, actually — that tension is both annoying and amusing. Their trip is an intriguing take on the journey; things in hell have changed since Virgil played tour guide.

In “Katabasis,” we’re once again treated to the power of Kuang’s mind. It takes a smart person to write geniuses, and Alice and Peter are brilliant, if blinkered. Like “Babel,” which relied on Kuang’s knowledge of linguistics, “Katabasis” is rich and textured because of her knowledge of the subject, her deep familiarity with its shape and philosophy. Also like “Babel,” “Katabasis” revolves around the dark inequities cracking the foundations of a fictional department in an Oxbridge school, a place people would kill to get into and then die in while they’re there.

A warning: The nesting doll of literary references in “Katabasis” will be a delight to some and impenetrable to others. People who aren’t familiar with chthonic myths might want to do some research before reading. For example, there’s a joke toward the end about how John Gradus is clearly a fake name: The reference is never elucidated, and you’ll only get the joke if you know the phrase gradus ad parnassum means “a step toward Parnassus,” which is the mountain where Apollo and the Muses live in Greek myth, and that the phrase is often used by scholars to indicate a process of gradual mastery over a subject. So John Gradus is a journeyer in his own right, learning where he went wrong in life to reach the Lethe and reincarnate. This novel is not for the intellectually indifferent.

But generally, “Katabasis” is a more mature and less showy novel than Kuang’s earlier works. Perhaps this isn’t surprising; Kuang’s first book was published when she was just 21 and she’s 29 now. A person’s 20s are transformative even if they don’t study in China, at Oxford, at Cambridge and at Yale in quick succession. Readers who thought “The Poppy War” trilogy didn’t stick the landing, or that Rin became insufferable by the end, will be pleased that “Katabasis” does stick it, and that Alice evolves.

Some of the same themes from “The Poppy War” return — the horror of sex, the power of delusion to transform reality. But when Alice faces challenges, she lets go of her delusions. Peter is not disposable like Kitay. Both Alice and Rin sacrifice, but this isn’t Rin’s abject despair; Alice’s sacrifices are more nuanced than Rin could ever fathom.

As much as “Katabasis” has in common with Kuang’s earlier works, tonally it might have most in common with “Yellowface.” Unlike the brutality of “The Poppy Wars” or the tragedy of “Babel,” “Katabasis” maintains a slight wry humor throughout. There’s a satirical subtext here that wasn’t present in her earlier earnest fantasies. I mean, these PhD candidates choose to go to actual hell rather than have an honest conversation with someone at Cambridge. Kuang shows us how self-destructive that is, intriguing as the story reads. Like June Hayward/Juniper Song in “Yellowface,” Alice and Peter are so trapped in the flimsy reality they’ve constructed that they can’t see the obvious way out.

Because in “Katabasis,” hell is not other people. It’s defending your dissertation.

This is my one sticking point with writers taking readers to hell. Cultural images of the underworld are bound by writers, and though Kuang introduces new elements, she adheres largely to their canon. Her take on Dante’s City of Dis is — spoiler! — a regal college where academics spend eternity writing self-absorbed dissertations (shortened by real PhD candidates, of course, to “Diss” — there’s that wry humor). There’s no feedback, no advisors, just faith that someone’s reading. I understand why a PhD student would envision this as the worst kind of punishment, but I’m not convinced it’s the worst possible sin.

“Katabasis” is hell filtered through a scholar’s eyes. Orpheus’ journey has stood the test of time because he went for love. Dante went for knowledge. Alice goes for a recommendation letter. It’s an intriguing addition to the canon, but for mere mortals who haven’t survived abusive, plagiaristic and mystifying advisors to earn Oxbridge degrees — or even just bad bosses — it might be unrelatable.

Castellanos Clark, a writer and historian in Los Angeles, is the author of “Unruly Figures: Twenty Tales of Rebels, Rulebreakers, and Revolutionaries You’ve (Probably) Never Heard Of.”

Fans are already looing forward to binge watching the enture series

One of the writers from hit show Rick and Morty is bringing ‘chaos energy’ to Netflix in a new animated series fans already can’t wait to fall in love with.

Haunted Hotel is set to be streaming from September 19. Audiences are already anticipating spooky season beginning early as a result.

According to the synopsis released by the streaming giant, the series will follow a single mother of two who struggles to run a haunted hotel. All she has to help her is estranged brother, who is now one of the ghosts haunting the establishment and thinks the other ghosts have some pretty good ideas.

As seen in the trailer, not only does she juggle a son, daughter and a host of ghosts, there’s also a demon trapped inside the body of a boy from the 1700s.

There are also various types of spirits, ghosts and devil like creatures. One even sounds just like the voice of Seth Rogen.

Meanwhile, the main voice cast for Haunted Hotel includes Saturday Night Live alum and The Four Seasons star Will Forte. He’s joined by Scrubs’ Eliza Coupe, one of the stars of new Superman movie Skyler Gisondo, comedian Natalie Palamides, and Jimmi Simpson who many will recognise from Westworld and as one of the McPoyle brothers in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelpihia.

Haunted Hotel is created by Matt Roller, who has previously written for shows including Rick and Morty, Community and Archer. He has also worked on sitcoms Mr. Mayor and The Goldbergs.

Celebrating the series order at Netflix, he said: “I’m thrilled to be working with Netflix and an amazingly talented cast and crew to bring to life the stories of the dead, the evil, and the struggling hospitality workers at the Undervale Hotel,”

Fans are already looking forward to the new show. While it is not yet confirmed how many episodes will consist of its debut season, it’s already looking like a must binge title.

One person, replying to the trailer on social media, commented: “Rick and Morty’s chaotic energy but make it haunted? Yeah… I’m checking in!”

Another added: “t’s giving me Scooby doo vibe!” Sharing a similar sentiment one person posted: “Rick and Morty meets Scooby-Doo energy, but way more unhinged.”

While one person, seemingly excited for Halloween already said: “Spooky comedy just what we need to ease into fall. Will Forte + Rick and Morty creators = yes please”

There were some who spoke with a word of caution. It comes after a year of even more cancellations confirmed at the streamer during 2025. That included many that were only given one season despite reaching millions of views.

Shows such as The Residence, Pulse and Territory all came to a premature end. Fans are already fearful Haunted Hotel will be added to the list.

One person posted: “I can’t wait to fall in love with this show, only to be heartbroken when Netflix inevitably cancels it.”

Another agreed: “Can’t wait to love this show then feel depressed when it’s cancelled on a depressing cliffhanger.”

Haunted Hotel is streaming on Netflix from September 19.

Alistair Kitchen is a writer from Australia who was blocked from entering the US in June 2025.

In this Unmute, Kitchen describes how he endured hours of interrogation and had his phone confiscated and forensically downloaded by Customs agents before he was deported back to Australia. He believes it was over his writing on the pro-Palestine protests at Columbia University and his views on Israel-Palestine.

Travelling on long-haul flights is never a pleasant experience – but there are a few things I always pack with me to try and make the journey a little easier

At the tender age of three, my family and I uprooted from our Northampton home to start a new life in New Zealand. Despite growing up on the other side of the globe, with all my extended family back in England, I became well-acquainted with the 24-hour plane journey required for family visits.

This mammoth trip was undertaken every four years until I relocated back to England last year. Now, as a travel reporter, I frequently find myself jet-setting around the world; and the knowledge gained from doing so has been invaluable to my career.

There’s no sugar-coating it – long-haul economy class flights are far from enjoyable, especially for someone who is nearly six feet tall like me. The conditions are cramped, dry, dirty, and often dark.

However, there are a few essentials I always pack to make the ordeal slightly more bearable.

My long-haul flight essentials

Silk scarf

The air in long-haul flights can be incredibly dry, causing discomfort to your nose, mouth, and eyes. To combat this, if I’m attempting to get some shut-eye, I drape a silk scarf over my face, serving as both an eye mask and face mask.

Breathing through the silk helps humidify the air, making it less irritating to breathe, and also prevents the sensitive skin around my nose from drying out. You might attract a few curious glances, but trust me, it’s worth it.

Headphones

My headphones are Bluetooth-enabled, but they also come with a connecting cable that can convert them into wired ones. This is compatible with most in-flight entertainment systems, allowing me to enjoy films with excellent sound quality.

This is an absolute must-have for me, especially during long-haul flights that can last up to 16 hours. The complimentary headphones provided at takeoff are often of poor quality and lack sufficient padding, making them uncomfortable to use for extended periods.

Earplugs

I swear by Loop earplugs as they’re comfortable, stay put in my ears, and effectively block out the majority of the noise associated with air travel, which makes sleeping a little easier

Toiletries

Carrying wet wipes, a toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, and some moisturiser can make a world of difference in helping you feel somewhat refreshed.

Just remember never to brush your teeth using the water from the aeroplane bathroom – it’s not the cleanest. I usually wait until my layover before heading to the airport bathrooms for a quick freshen-up.

Knowing that I’m relatively clean makes the second leg of the flight much more bearable. I always ensure I have a spare pair of underwear and socks to change into, and if there’s room, I bring an extra shirt as well, because accidents do happen.

Slippers

Having slippers on hand makes trips to the bathroom or getting up to stretch your legs a lot easier and hygienic. Never venture to an aeroplane bathroom barefoot or in socks. It’s gross and completely avoidable.

Long-haul flights can be a bit of a drag, but they don’t have to be utterly unbearable. These minor adjustments can transform a dreadful journey into a tolerable one, and personally, I wouldn’t dream of travelling without them.

Stranger Things season five is slowly but surely edging closer and TV writer Jake Hackney has found a way to secure a Netflix and Sky TV subscription for 50p per day ahead of its launch.

It’s been a big week for Netflix as the streamer finally dropped the first trailer for Stranger Things season five. On Wednesday, exactly nine years and one day after the sci-fi series first aired, Netflix gave fans their first-look at its final chapter.

The footage shows Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) and the gang returning for ‘one last adventure’, each united by a single goal: to find and kill Vecna. Season five is set to premiere in three parts, with volume one (episodes one to four) on November 27, followed by volume two (episodes five to seven) on Boxing Day, and the finale on New Year’s Day.

It feels like an age since season four, so I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s felt their interest waning in the interim. However, after seeing the new trailer this week I’m happy to say Netflix has well and truly pulled me back in.

READ MORE: Stranger Things fans can get Netflix free for two years as season 5 trailer drops

READ MORE: LEGO’s back to school range includes £15 desk drawer and brick lunch bags

It’s fair to say the hype around the new season is building, and it’s sure to keep going throughout the rest of the year. With that, many fans are likely scrambling for different ways to find a cheap Netflix subscription.

Earlier this year, the streamer raised its subscription fees yet again, with its entry-level Standard with Ads tier now costing £5.99 per month. However, as a TV and tech writer, it’s my job to find ways to watch all the latest series while keeping costs down, and I know how to get Netflix and Sky TV for 50p per day.

Get Netflix free with Sky

from £15

Sky

Get the deal here

Sky is giving away a free Netflix subscription with its new Sky Stream TV bundles, including the £15 Essential TV plan.

This lets members watch live and on-demand TV content without a satellite dish or aerial and includes hit shows like Stranger Things and The Last of Us.

The deal comes directly from Sky, which includes a free Netflix subscription with TV packages like the Essential TV bundle. For £15 per month, this provides free Netflix access, more than 100 channels including Sky Atlantic and a Discovery+ subscription. When breaking it down, this works out at 50p per day over a 30-day period.

The bundle comes on a 24-month term, meaning those signing up can secure a Netflix subscription for two years. It typically comes with Netflix Standard with Adverts, which usually costs £5.99 when joining direct, meaning members essentially pay £9.01 for 100 TV channels and Discovery+.

There is the option to upgrade to Netflix Standard or Premium for those who prefer ad-free viewing, priced at an extra £6 or £11 respectively. Sky also lets those with an existing subscription keep the same account, so they don’t pay twice.

Sky isn’t the only provider to tempt customers with free Netflix access, as Virgin Media also includes a free subscription with its own TV packages. However, although they include much more, they also come with a higher price tag.

The cheapest package that comes with Netflix is the £64.99 Biggest Combo bundle; usually priced at £78.99, this also comes with more than 200 TV channels, Sky Sports, Sky Cinema and 516Mbps fibre broadband. However, one downside to both Sky and Virgin’s plans is that they both increase their prices every April in an inflation-linked rise.

This means the price paid is likely to go up twice in the next 24 months. Sky is yet to confirm how much its prices will go up in April 2026, but this year it introduced a 6.2% rise, so we may see something similar next year.

Virgin has already set out its planned changes, with the £64.99 plan rising to £68.49 from April 2026. Despite this, both Sky and Virgin customers can enjoy every season of Stranger Things, as well as Squid Game, Bridgerton and much, much more.

NEW YORK — Martin Cruz Smith, the best-selling mystery novelist who engaged readers for decades with “Gorky Park” and other thrillers featuring Moscow investigator Arkady Renko, has died at age 82.

Smith died Friday at a senior living community in San Rafael, “surrounded by those he loved,” according to his publisher, Simon & Schuster. Smith revealed a decade ago that he had Parkinson’s disease, and he gave the same condition to his protagonist. His 11th Renko book, “Hotel Ukraine,” was published July 8 and billed as his last.

“My longevity is linked to Arkady’s,” he told Strand Magazine in 2023. “As long as he remains intelligent, humorous, and romantic, so shall I.”

Smith was often praised for his storytelling and for his insights into modern Russia; he would speak of being interrogated at length by customs officials during his many trips there. The Associated Press called “Hotel Ukraine” a “gem” that “upholds Smith’s reputation as a great craftsman of modern detective fiction with his sharply drawn, complex characters and a compelling plot.”

Smith’s honors included being named a “grand master” by the Mystery Writers of America, winning the Hammett Prize for “Havana Bay” and a Gold Dagger award for “Gorky Park.”

Born Martin William Smith in Reading, Pa. , he studied creative writing at the University of Pennsylvania and started out as a journalist, including a brief stint at the AP and at the Philadelphia Daily News. Success as an author arrived slowly. He had been a published novelist for more than a decade before he broke through in the early 1980s with “Gorky Park.” His novel came out when the Soviet Union and the Cold War were still very much alive and centered on Renko’s investigation into the murders of three people whose bodies were found in the Moscow park that Smith used for the book’s title.

“Gorky Park,” cited by the New York Times as a reminder of “just how satisfying a smoothly turned thriller can be,” topped the Times’ fiction bestseller list and was later made into a movie starring William Hurt.

“Russia is a character in my Renko stories, always,” Smith told Publishers Weekly in 2013. “‘Gorky Park’ may have been one of the first books to take a backdrop and make it into a character. It took me forever to write because of my need to get things right. You’ve got to knock down the issue of ‘Does this guy know what he’s talking about or not?’”

Smith’s other books include science fiction (“The Indians Won”), the Westerns “North to Dakota” and “Ride for Revenge,” and the “Roman Grey” mystery series. Besides “Martin Cruz Smith” — Cruz was his maternal grandmother’s name — he also wrote under the pen names “Nick Carter” and “Simon Quinn.”

Smith’s Renko books were inspired in part by his own travels and he would trace the region’s history over the past 40 years, whether it be the Soviet Union’s collapse (“Red Square”), the rise of Russian oligarchs (“The Siberian Dilemma”) or, in the novel “Wolves Eats Dogs,” the 1986 Chernobyl disaster.

By the time he began working on his last novel, Russia had invaded Ukraine. The AP noted in its review of “Hotel Ukraine” that Smith had devised a backstory “pulled straight from recent headlines,” referencing such world leaders as Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine, Vladimir Putin of Russia and former President Joe Biden of the U.S.

Smith is survived by his brother, Jack Smith; his wife, Emily Smith; three children and five grandchildren.

Italie writes for the Associated Press.

Long Beach City College football coach Brett Peabody has agreed to resign following backlash from a profane direct message he sent to an online publisher who is critical of President Trump.

On the day of Trump’s inauguration in January, Peabody sent a private message to Aaron Rupar, who has nearly 1 million followers on X. Rupar, in turn, made the message public.

“You’re done you sorry fascist scumbag, hope you get held accountable for the bulls— that yiu e spread. Justice is in the horizon kiddo,” Peabody’s direct message read. He then added “you’ve*” to correct his own typo.

Rupar shared the message on his X account and added, “I get lots of threatening DMs but I usually don’t get them from head coaches of college football programs.” That post has been viewed 1.2 million times and reposted by 4,200 users as of Wednesday.

Records obtained by the Long Beach Post show that Peabody has agreed to resign. Emails the Post obtained indicate Peabody was placed on paid administrative leave in February and a month later he agreed to resign at the end of the year.

Peabody will remain on paid leave through December and will be paid a six-month severance of approximately $60,000, according to a settlement agreement obtained by the Post.

Marques Cooper was named LBCC acting head coach in March. Cooper had been the defensive coordinator and has been an assistant coach at Azusa Pacific, El Camino College and Santa Monica City College.

Peabody told the Long Beach Post in January that sending the message to Rupar was “dumb” and “was clearly not the best decision.” He apologized to LBCC, saying the tone of the post was “harsh and regrettable,”

“It was not a threat in any way, shape or form,” Peabody said. “If you read it, I’m not sure how it could be construed as a threat. … I’d like to see journalists held at a higher standard.”

A petition to reinstate Peabody that was posted on change.org by LBCC players and associates of Peabody has 68 signatures. “Throughout his tenure with us, [Peabody] has demonstrated exceptional leadership, dedication, and a true, burning passion for helping athletes develop both their skills and character,” the petition reads.

Peabody took over as head coach at LBCC in 2013, leading the Vikings to conference titles and bowl wins in 2015, 2016, 2017 and 2019. Previously, he was head coach and an assistant at L.A. Harbor College and head coach at South High School in Torrance.

The Writers Guild of America West has removed Randall Emmett from its “strike list” after the film producer paid $630,000 to resolve a judgment in a long-standing dispute over unpaid compensation.

The resolution comes more than five years after Emmett’s former production firm, Emmett/Furla Oasis, failed to pay health insurance benefits and other compensation to four writers on a proposed Arnold Schwarzenegger television show, “Pump,” that collapsed in 2019 when the action star bowed out.

“This was originally a financial obligation tied to former companies,” Emmett said in a statement. “However, I made the personal decision to take it on independently because it was simply the right thing to do.”

The WGA confirmed Monday that Emmett had been taken off its strike list after nearly five years, a penalty due to his former firm’s lingering debt. But a WGA representative said members should still refrain from working with him unless he becomes a signatory to the guild’s contract with producers.

Emmett/Furla Oasis has been defunct for years. His current production firm, Convergence Entertainment Group, is trying to mount a film project in collaboration with Oscar-winning director Martin Scorsese. The filmmakers hope to bring to the screen “Wall of White,” a story of a deadly 1982 avalanche near Lake Tahoe.

However, in March, the WGA warned its members to stay clear of the project, citing the unpaid debt. The WGA’s high-profile advisory clouded Emmett’s endeavors.

Emmett was the subject of a 2022 Times investigation and subsequent Hulu documentary that surfaced allegations of mistreatment of women, assistants and business partners, which he has denied.

Emmett has continued to crank out low-budget films, primarily starring John Travolta and Sylvester Stallone.

Last year, Emmett attempted to fly under the radar by using the moniker “Ives,” which is his middle name.

Emmett ran afoul of union rules in 2019 after hiring four guild writers to develop scripts for a TV series loosely based on Schwarzenegger’s early years in California.

Writers of the project previously told The Times they wanted “Pump” to be a love letter to Venice Beach in the early 1970s and the birth of the modern bodybuilding culture.

At the time, Emmett’s firm was burning through cash, according to internal documents previously viewed by The Times. The writers were also brought on board before Schwarzenegger committed to the project.

The WGA won a $541,464 judgment against Emmett/Furla Oasis in 2021 after it filed a claim on behalf of writers. The debt swelled with interest.

The “Wall of White” project draws on a 2010 book as well as a 2021 documentary, “Buried: The 1982 Alpine Meadows Avalanche.” After a heavy spring storm in Northern California in 1982, tons of snow rushed down a mountain and into a village, trapping eight people at a ski resort. Seven died, and rescuers pulled one woman from the wreckage.

Screenwriter Petter Skavlan, a WGA member, was attached to the film, according to IMDb.

Book author Jennifer Woodlief also has been listed as a screenwriter.

Emmett has been working on the project for more than a year. He introduced the Netflix documentary to Scorsese, according to a March article in the Tahoe Guide, which touted how the local tragedy was being adapted into a feature film.

The filmmakers are searching for a director.

“We expect to finalize an A-list director by this summer in preparation for a February 1st production start,” Emmett said.

The project is expected to film in Nevada, Ohio and Canada, he said.

For Chinaka Hodge, it’s important that Riri Williams is unapologetic.

Comparing the young engineering prodigy to the billionaire tech CEO and Avengers founding member Tony Stark, the head writer and executive producer of Marvel’s “Ironheart” says she wanted her show’s lead character to share some of that brash confidence to speak her mind yet still feel grounded.

“I wanted her to be unapologetic about her intellect,” says Hodge during a recent Zoom call. “I wanted her to be unapologetic about the people she hung out with — that they would look and feel like the America we inhabit.

“It was really important to me to make a character that didn’t just feel like a superhero in a skirt [but someone with] real dimension, real depth and real challenges and concerns,” she added.

Out now on Disney+, “Ironheart” follows Riri (portrayed by Dominique Thorne), a 19-year old MIT student introduced in the 2022 film “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever,” as she finds herself back in her hometown of Chicago.

After getting whisked away to Wakanda to help save the day, Riri is more driven than ever to complete her own version of a high-tech Iron Man-like suit to cement her legacy. But unlike Tony or the Wakandans, Riri doesn’t have unlimited resources to do so, which leads her to make some questionable decisions.

Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne) in “Ironheart.”

(Jalen Marlowe / Marvel)

“She’s incredibly reverent of Tony Stark [being] ahead of her, but her path is not the same as his,” says Hodge, who can relate to Riri having “no blueprint” for her journey. “How to empower your idea without resource, without changing your morals, is a really difficult road, and that’s basically where we put Riri for the life of the series.”

Compared to most of her Marvel Cinematic Universe counterparts, Riri is a fairly new character. Created by Brian Michael Bendis and Mike Deodato, the 15-year-old tech whiz made her comic book debut in a 2016 issue of “Invincible Iron Man.” Besides Tony Stark, Riri has crossed paths with characters such as Pepper Potts (Rescue), Kamala Khan (Ms. Marvel) and Miles Morales (Spider-Man).

A self-described “Marvel head,” Hodge explains that Riri initially hit her radar because of her friendship with fellow poet and scholar Eve Ewing, who was the writer on the first “Ironheart” comic book series.

“My first encounter with Riri was watching Eve literally leave a poetry [event] and say, ‘I have to go to my house … I’m working on some cool things,’” Hodge says. “In a true fan kind of way, I’m interested in characters that look like me, and low-key, Riri really looks like me, [so] I very much leaned in.”

“Ironheart” head writer Chinaka Hodge says Riri Williams is in for a difficult road.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

As she became more familiar with the character, what also struck Hodge, as someone on the autism spectrum, is how Riri can be read as neurodiverse. “One of the most important things about Riri [is] how she feels like me and my mom and other women who lean into their brains,” she says.

Fans of Ironheart from the comics will recognize that elements of Riri’s characterization and backstory draw upon what has been established in the books, but Hodge notes that they were not beholden to those storylines in terms of whom the teen could encounter on the show, regardless of the timeline or dimension. Hodge’s learning curve, however, did include discovering the different levels and types of magic that exist in the broader Marvel universe, as well as potential storylines getting derailed because it fell under another character’s purview.

Though she is still a teen genius, the Riri in the series is slightly older than in the comics. Hodge also describes this Riri as more of an antihero because she has the potential to land on either side of the hero/villain line based on the choices she makes.

Hodge, along with “Ironheart” directors Sam Bailey and Angela Barnes, sing Thorne’s praises, for her portrayal of Riri and as a collaborator. Hodge calls the Cornell-educated actor “a genius” and says she strove to pull Riri’s dialogue up to the level of Thorne’s intellect, rather than the other way around. Bailey, who directed the first three episodes of the series, says Thorne “brought such a soulfulness to the character.” And Barnes, who directed Episodes 4 through 6, commends her capacity to be present for her fellow actors.

“It was exciting to just create the environment to let her do her thing and feel safe within doing that,” Bailey says.

“Ironheart” marks the first time the MCU has spotlighted Chicago, and for the show’s creative team, it was important to get the city right. Hodge, who grew up in Oakland, admits that while she may not have direct knowledge as an outsider, she can relate to how Riri regards her home and wanted to treat the city with respect.

“Chicago’s my favorite cast member,” Hodge says. “I think Riri feels about Chicago how I feel about Oakland. It’s a hometown, but it’s [also] a legacy we’re carrying. Us being from there means something if we do something right with our lives.”

That type of hometown pride was shared by many in the “Ironheart” cast and crew. Hodge says the aim was to tap as many Chicago artists and musicians — from local bucket drummers to cast members like Shea Couleé — to capture the true texture of the city. Among those with strong personal ties to the city is Bailey, who is from Chicago, and Hodge credits the director with helping to bring their vision to life.

Zoe Terakes, left, Sonia Denis, Shakira Barrera, Dominique Thorne, Shea Couleé, Anthony Ramos and Manny Montana in “Ironheart.”

(Jalen Marlowe / Marvel)

“I feel like Chicago has this beautiful chip on its shoulder,” Bailey says. “We don’t trust a lot of people. We’re very protective of the city and its inhabitants. … There was a bit of rebelliousness I wanted to capture … and the different types of people that populate that city, which I don’t feel like we get to see a lot onscreen.”

As the director of the first half of the series, Bailey’s goal was to set up the backstory and establish the vibrancy of everyone introduced in the early episodes to prepare for the adventure to come.

“It was really important to really make these characters feel like people and feel like people you wanted to be around and feel like people you want to root for,” says Bailey.

Among these characters in Riri’s orbit are those she shares a history with, like her mother, Ronnie (Anji White), her close friend Xavier (Matthew Elam) and even the neighborhood’s youngest businessman, Landon (Harper Anthony). But Riri soon finds herself in the company of a new crew led by Parker Robbins (Anthony Ramos), who some might compare to Robin Hood or a freedom fighter, at least initially.

Mindful of spoilers, Barnes only teases that the second half of the series involves Riri having to face some of the consequences of choices she made in earlier episodes.

“[Riri] made this decision to maybe hang out with people that aren’t necessarily the most savory of people,” says Barnes. “They also have their own reasons for doing what they’re doing, but … she gets in a little deeper than she imagined.”

A self-proclaimed MCU fan, Barnes emphasizes how the show was intentional in everything from its set pieces to decoration, including how the design for the heads-up display of Riri’s suit was inspired by infographics from the works of W.E.B. Du Bois. But she also recalls the fun they had during production, like flipping a truck and building a White Castle in a parking lot.

Chinaka Hodge wanted to make sure people could see themselves reflected on the show.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

For Hodge, “Ironheart” marks one of her highest-profile projects to date. The poet and playwright turned to screenwriting after realizing she wanted to expand beyond working in first person and enrolled in USC’s graduate film school in 2010. There, she’d meet fellow student filmmakers like “Black Panther’s” Ryan Coogler, who is an executive producer on “Ironheart,” and “Creed II’s” Steven Caple Jr. (“I would just follow Ryan around campus [saying], ‘Hire me,’” she says. He eventually did.)

Among the things Hodge was excited about while working on the series was getting to explore larger themes around access, autonomy and safety through specific situations that consider how a young girl from Chicago’s South Side might be perceived differently than Tony Stark for owning a weapons-grade tech suit because of what they look like. She was also eager to populate the show with people who reflect the diversity of the real world.

Broadly speaking, “you’re gonna see yourself if you turn on the screen on this show,” says Hodge, who is glad the MCU has moved to “feel like a universe that’s inhabited by the people who read publishing and go to the movies.”

“I’m excited for the little, quirky Black girl watching the show who sees herself in it [and] for the queer kid who finds it for their Pride Month activities and wants to watch it,” she says. “I’m really excited for that Black boy who wants to play with a Riri Williams action figure and finds it in the store and gets to fly it around his own house. I’m excited and I’m nervous [and] thrilled, and I feel like that’s exactly how Riri feels when she’s flying over the Chicago skyline.”