Latest news with #FamiliesLikeOurs
Time Magazine
27-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Magazine
The Best New TV Shows of June 2025
When you think about BritBox, if you think about it at all, it's likely you imagine an endless library of interchangeable cozy mysteries and Victorian costume dramas. But the Anglophile streaming service, backed by BBC and ITV, has much more to offer. To wit: among the very best new TV shows I encountered in June are BritBox titles about the fascinating Mitford sisters and an older gentleman living a closeted double life. Also worth watching this month are a frothy Bravo debut, a speculative drama about the end of Denmark, and a golf comedy starring Owen Wilson. Families Like Ours (Netflix) What if your government made the calm, rational decision that your country must cease to exist, then set about shutting it down in stages, as the currency became worthless and the population scrambled to emigrate? This is the terrifying thought experiment that propels the Danish drama Families Like Ours, which opens with the news that Denmark will be slowly but permanently evacuated before rising waters can swallow the small, low-lying nation. It's a premise that might seem to lend itself to dystopian sci-fi, but, as the title suggests, creator Thomas Vinterberg—a superstar of Danish cinema best known in the U.S. as the director of Another Round, Far From the Madding Crowd, and The Hunt—filters the cataclysm through the sieve of family drama. Amid the panic, we meet teenage Laura (Amaryllis April Maltha August), who's just falling for a classmate (Albert Rudbeck Lindhardt) bound for Finland as she sets her sights on the Sorbonne. While her architect father (Nikolaj Lie Kaas) makes plans to work in Paris, his ex, Laura's mom (Paprika Steen)—a science journalist who is on public assistance following an extremely understandable nervous breakdown—must face the prospect of living dorm-style in Bucharest, among other Danes who lack relocation funds. Vinterberg has convincingly thought through not just the political, environmental, and financial aspects of this near-future crisis, but also how it might strain or strengthen familial relationships. The acting is superb. And although the show avoids preachy comparisons between its well-off, white climate refugees and their less privileged present-day counterparts, there's plenty to notice about the international community's indifference to the plight of the stateless. 'I'm really sorry to hear about your country,' a Frenchman tells new Danish acquaintances, with all the solemnity of someone commiserating over a bad vacation. 'Everybody in my family's talking about it.' Mr. Loverman (BritBox) Barrington Walker has made the most of his 75 years on Earth. Born in Antigua, he immigrated to Britain as a young man, found success in business, raised two daughters with his wife, Carmel (Sharon D. Clarke), and can now afford to pay his grandson Daniel's (Tahj Miles) tuition at an elite private high school. But, for upwards of half a century, Barry (Lennie James) has been keeping a huge secret: his romantic relationship with his lifelong best friend, Morris (Ariyon Bakare). Now, as he realizes he's running out of time to live authentically and Carmel's suspicion that he cheats on her with women strains their already troubled marriage, Barry resolves to get a divorce and spend the rest of his days with the man he has always loved. This is the emotionally layered premise of Mr. Loverman, a tight half-hour drama adapted by Nathaniel Price (The Outlaws) from Bernardine Evaristo's novel of the same name. James, Clarke, and Bakare are spectacular; Carmel may initially come off as a generic church lady, but Price has empathy for each of his characters, and she eventually gets the humanizing backstory she deserves. The series feels grounded in the Walkers' immigrant milieu. And while there are harrowing moments—the closet doesn't always offer Barry and Morris the protections they seek in it—Mr. Loverman balances them out with a massive heart and a wicked sense of humor. Next Gen NYC (Bravo) OK, so Bravo's latest soap doesn't exactly fit the traditional definition of 'good.' If you can't get on board with the Real Housewives franchise, this probably will not be the show that converts you. But for those of us who crave featherweight drama, Next Gen NYC hits a fabulously frivolous spot that the network has been missing amid its increasingly trauma-driven reality programming. Among the 20-somethings at its center are the Bravo-famous offspring of breakout Housewives Kandi Burruss, Kim Zolciak, Meredith Marks, and Teresa Giudice. Their wider 'friend group' consists mostly of influencers (Emira D'Spain) and nepo babies (Damon Dash and Rachel Roy's daughter Ava); crypto bro Charlie Zakkour's claim to fame is his tangential connection to a notorious crypto-related kidnapping. In early episodes, the storylines have been supremely silly: Charlie taunts Brooks Marks about wanting to sleep with Brooks' sister! Contrarian New York native Georgia McCann scandalizes the group by refusing to wash her hands after going to the bathroom! (When will the NYC slander end?) The struggle to find an apartment for under $6000 a month is real! If the idea of spending time with these people makes your skin crawl… fair. But if immersing yourself in rich-people problems is your idea of a summer vacation, don't miss it. Outrageous (BritBox) If you think your family gatherings have been poisoned by political polarization, imagine being one of the Mitford sisters. In the 1930s, these six young women of irrepressible spirit, noble birth, and in some cases deranged beliefs claimed historic roles at opposite ends of a spectrum stretching to unprecedented extremes. Glamorous Diana left her husband for British fascist leader Oswald Mosley; her younger sister Unity went full Nazi, moving to Germany and insinuating herself into Hitler's inner circle. Inspired by the Popular Front in the Spanish Civil War, Jessica became a communist and, later, a journalist. Eldest daughter Nancy wrote incisive comic and romantic novels about her social set—as well as a sendup of fascism, Wigs on the Green. (Pam and Deborah also lived fascinating, if not quite as public or politicized, lives.) An adaptation of Mary S. Lovell's book The Sisters: The Saga of the Mitford Family, the lively and thoughtful Outrageous dramatizes life on the cash-strapped Mitford estate in the '30s, when Europe was ablaze with conflict and the girls—then teenagers and young adults—burned to be a part of it. Fittingly, it's Nancy (Bridgerton's Bessie Carter, excellent) whose wry voice narrates her family's fracturing, as she navigates her own romantic woes. Icy yet impulsive Diana (Joanna Vanderham) blows up her relationship with Nancy over the satirical novel. Jessica (Zoe Brough, suitably intense) and Unity (Shannon Watson, persuasively selling her character as an unhinged fangirl) start out as oddball kids play-fighting in their shared bedroom but soon find themselves at war over Unity's very real antisemitic vitriol. Few true stories could be more timely than this one, which asks whether it's possible to keep loving a close relative whose beliefs you find appalling. And creator Sarah Williams does a remarkable job transitioning from early storylines about a big, warm, eccentric family to later episodes that weigh Diana and Unity's monstrous choices without succumbing to doom and gloom. Stick (Apple TV+) The third episode of the new Apple TV+ golf comedy Stick is called 'Daddy Issues,' but that might as well be the title of the show. Created by Ford v. Ferrari writer Jason Keller, it stars Owen Wilson as a former top golfer, Pryce Cahill, who publicly flamed out 20 years ago. He's been mired in the past ever since, from his job at a sporting goods store to his refusal to finalize the divorce initiated by his long-suffering wife (Judy Greer), move out of their old house, and accept that he's no longer a husband, a father, or a pro athlete. When he spots a surly teen at a driving range, Santi (Peter Dager), who has the makings of a major talent, Pryce sees in this potential protégé a shot at redemption. But Santi, whose now-estranged dad used to push him too hard on the golf course, doesn't exactly relish the prospect of having a new father figure to satisfy. It sounds hackneyed and heartstring-yanking—another comedy that uses sports as a cover to talk about men's feelings and relationships from the platform that brought us Ted Lasso. There are indeed elements of Stick that come off as pandering…Yet within the limitations of its formula, Stick works. [Read the full review.]
Yahoo
02-06-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Netflix Takes Thomas Vinterberg's Debut Series ‘Families Like Ours' For The U.S.
EXCLUSIVE: Having premiered at Venice in 2024, Thomas Vinterberg's drama Families Like Ours has been picked up by Netflix for the U.S. and will launch on the streamer on June 10. Families Like Ours is the first series from Vinterberg, the Oscar-winning Another Round filmmaker and co-founder of the Dogma 95 movement. The drama has already sold to the BBC in the UK and a raft of international buyers. Studiocanal is handling distribution and sealed the Netflix sale. More from Deadline Lady Gaga Closes Out Netflix's Tudum With Mesmerizing On-Theme 'Wednesday' Performance Featuring Viral Dance Lady Gaga's Cameo In 'Wednesday' Confirmed As Netflix Premieres Season 2 Footage 'Stranger Things': Netflix Reveals Premiere Date For Season 5, Split Into Three Volumes Zentropa developed Families Like Ours with Studiocanal and it is an original series for TV2 Denmark and Canal+ in France. Set in a not-too-distant future, it follows events after rising water levels force Denmark to be evacuated. Those who can afford it travel to affluent countries. The less well-off, meanwhile, depend on government-funded relocation to more challenging destinations, casting a new spin on a refugee story. Against this backdrop we meet Laura (Amaryllis August), a student on the cusp of graduation. When news of the evacuation breaks, she faces the impossible dilemma of choosing between the people she loves the most. 'Countries disappear, love remains,' reads a description of the series. 'It's wonderful how an inherently Danish series like Families Like Ours, through a platform like Netflix, can travel far and wide and strike a chord with audiences around the world,' Vinterberg said. He added: 'In this increasingly divided world, it gives me both joy and hope to see that there's a universal language — a common ground rooted in shared human experiences. Hopefully, that sense of connection continues across the Atlantic.' The show was produced by Zentropa for TV2 in Denmark. The series had a solid festival run; after debuting at Venice in 2024, it played at Toronto and the London Film Festival. The show has already bowed on TV2 in Denmark. Vinterberg and wrote the seven-part series with Bo Hr. Hansen. It was shot in Denmark, Sweden, France, Romania, and the Czech Republic. There are a raft of co-production partners including NRK, TV4, ARD Degeto, Film i Väst, Sirena Film, Zentropa Sweden, Saga Film and Ginger Pictures. Another Round producers Sisse Graum Jørgensen and Kasper Dissing produced. Families Like Ours also reunites Vinterberg and Zentropa with Studiocanal, which distributed Another Round in the UK. The Netflix deal follows sales to numerous broadcasters and platforms including Movistar Plus+ (Spain), CBC Gem (Canada) and SBS (Australia). 'With the support of CANAL+ and all of our partners we have taken great pride in bringing Vinterberg's deeply human and universal story of love and hope to such a wide audience,' said Chloé Marquet, Studiocanal's Head Of International Sales for Films & TV Series. 'Netflix is now the perfect place for the series to thrive and resonate far beyond borders.' Best of Deadline Sean 'Diddy' Combs Sex-Trafficking Trial Updates: Cassie Ventura's Testimony, $10M Hotel Settlement, Drugs, Violence, & The Feds 'Poker Face' Season 2 Guest Stars: From Katie Holmes To Simon Hellberg 2025-26 Awards Season Calendar: Dates For Tonys, Emmys, Oscars & More
Time of India
19-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Families Like Ours OTT Release Date: When and where to watch Amaryllis August & Albert R. Lindhardt's series
Families Like Ours OTT Release Date: This Danish drama miniseries is scheduled to premiere on Netflix on June 10, 2025, as per What's on Netflix. The series comprises seven episodes, each with a runtime of approximately 49–50 minutes. Originally aired on Denmark's TV 2 from October 20 to December 1, 2024, Families Like Ours is now making its global streaming debut on Netflix. What is Families Like Ours all about? Set in a near-future Denmark facing a national evacuation due to rising sea levels, Families Like Ours follows high school student Laura as she navigates complex choices involving her divorced parents and her boyfriend, Elias. The series explores themes of displacement, identity, and resilience, mirroring real-world challenges posed by climate change. Meet the cast and crew of Families Like Ours Directed and co-written by Oscar-winner Thomas Vinterberg, known for Another Round, the series also features music by Valentin Hadjadj and cinematography by Sturla Brandth Grøvlen. Families Like Ours features a stellar Danish cast including Amaryllis August, Albert Rudbeck Lindhardt, Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Paprika Steen, Helene Reingaard Neumann, Esben Smed, Magnus Millang, Thomas Bo Larsen, David Dencik, Max Kaysen Høyrup and Asta Kamma August among others. Families Like Ours has garnered critical acclaim with a 100% average Tomatometer score on Rotten Tomatoes and 5 out of 6 stars, calling it "the most riveting social story in years' on Filmmagasinet Ekko. As per the Loud and Clear Reviews, 5 stars described it as "a marvel of a series that brims with humanity." However, some critics, like The Guardian, have noted that while the series tackles significant themes, it may feel emotionally distant at times. Do you think Families Like Ours will find its due on OTT? Drop your thoughts @Indiatimes.
The Guardian
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Want to know how the world really ends? Look to TV show Families Like Ours
The climate crisis has taken a new and frightening turn, and in the expectation of disastrous flooding, the entire landmass of Denmark is about to be evacuated. Effectively, the country will be shutting itself down and sending its 6 million people abroad, where they will have to cope as best they can. Huge numbers of northern Europeans are therefore being turned into refugees: a few might have the wealth and connections to ease their passage from one life to another, but most are about to face the kind of precarious, nightmarish future they always thought of as other people's burden. Don't panic: this is not a news story – or not yet, anyway. It's the premise of an addictive new drama series titled Families Like Ours, acquired by the BBC and available on iPlayer. I have seen two episodes so far, and been struck by the very incisive way it satirises European attitudes to the politics of asylum. But what has also hit me is its portrayal of something just as modern: how it shows disaster unfolding in the midst of everyday life. At first, watching it brings on a sense of impatience. Why are most of the characters so calm? Where are the apocalyptic floods, wildfires and mass social breakdown? At times, it verges on boring. But then you realise the very clever conceit that defines every moment: it is really a story about how we all live, and what might happen tomorrow, or the day after. The writer and journalist Dorian Lynskey's brilliant book Everything Must Go is about the various ways that human beings have imagined the end of the world. 'Compared to nuclear war,' he writes, 'the climate emergency deprives popular storytellers of their usual toolkit. Global warming may move too fast for the planet but it is too slow for catastrophe fiction.' Even when the worst finally happens, most of us may respond with the kind of quiet mental contortions that are probably better suited to literature than the screen. Making that point, Lynskey quotes a character in Margaret Atwood's novel The Year of the Flood: 'Nobody admitted to knowing. If other people began to discuss it, you tuned them out, because what they were saying was both so obvious and so unthinkable.' These days, that kind of thinking reflects how people deal with just about every aspect of our ever-more troubled world: if we can avert our eyes from ecological breakdown, then everything else can be either underestimated or ignored. There is a kind of moment, I would wager, that now happens to all of us. We glance at our phones or switch on the radio and are assailed by the awful gravity of everything, and then somehow manage to instantly find our way back to calm and normality. This, of course, is how human beings have always managed to cope, as a matter of basic mental wiring. But in its 21st-century form, it also has very modern elements. Our news feeds reduce everything to white noise and trivia: the result is that developments that ought to be vivid and alarming become so dulled that they look unremarkable. Where this is leading politically is now as clear as day. In the New Yorker, Andrew Marantz wrote, in the wake of Trump's re-election, about how democracies slide into authoritarianism. 'In a Hollywood disaster movie,' he writes, 'when the big one arrives, the characters don't have to waste time debating whether it's happening. There is an abrupt, cataclysmic tremor, a deafening roar … In the real world, though, the cataclysm can come in on little cat feet. The tremors can be so muffled and distant that people continually adapt, explaining away the anomalies.' That is true of how we normalise the climate crisis; it also applies to the way that Trump and his fellow authoritarians have successfully normalised their politics. Marantz goes to Budapest, and meets a Hungarian academic, who marvels at the political feats pulled off by the country's prime minister, Viktor Orbán. 'Before it starts, you say to yourself: 'I will leave this country immediately if they ever do this or that horrible thing,'' he says. 'And then they do that thing, and you stay. Things that would have seemed impossible 10 years ago, five years ago, you may not even notice.' The fact that populists are usually climate deniers is perfect: just as searingly hot summers become mundane, so do the increasingly ambitious plans of would-be dictators – particularly in the absence of jackboots, goose-stepping and so many other old-fashioned accoutrements. Put simply, Orbán/Trump politics is purposely designed to fit with its time – and to most of its supporters (and plenty of onlookers), it looks a lot less terrifying than it actually is. Much the same story is starting to happen in the UK. On the night of last week's local elections, I found myself in the thoroughly ordinary environs of Grimsby town hall, watching the victory speech given by Reform UK's Andrea Jenkyns, who had just been elected as the first mayor of Greater Lincolnshire. For some reason, she wore a spangly outfit that made her look as if she was on her way to a 1970s-themed fancy dress party, which raised a few mirthless laughs. She said it was time for an end to 'soft-touch Britain', and suddenly called for asylum seekers to be forced to live in tents. That is the kind of thing that only fascists used to say, but it now lands in our political discourse with not much more than a faint thump. Meanwhile, life has to go on. About 20 years ago, I went to an exhibition of works by the French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson – one of which was of a family of four adults picnicking by the Marne, with their food and wine scattered around them, and a rowing-boat moored to the riverbank. When I first looked at it, I wondered what its significance was. But then I saw the date on the adjacent plaque: '1936-38.' We break bread, get drunk and tune out the noise until carrying on like that ceases to be an option: as Families Like Ours suggests, that point may arrive sooner than we think. John Harris is a Guardian columnist
Telegraph
03-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Families Like Ours, review: this tale of a flooded Denmark will drag you into its slipstream
If you live in one of the ever-rising number of households designated as a flood risk then it might be handy to have a life jacket to hand when watching Families Like Ours (BBC Four). Because in this (let's hope not too) prescient drama, a whole country is going under. Danish director Thomas Vinterberg, who launched Mads Mikkelsen into the drink at the climax of his modern classic movie Another Round, is diving into deep water again here: he's asking us to ponder what would happen if a whole country has to be abandoned due to rising water levels. In Families Like Ours, Denmark is literally sunk. It's an ingenious, if chilling, set-up. As the news of the Danish Government's decision to abandon ship and launch a repatriation programme for its six million citizens seeps out, panic understandably sets in. The border floodgates open and we meet a handful of characters struggling to keep heads above water as the world turns its back on them: Denmark, pretty quickly, finds out who its friends are. But it's individual stories, not the bigger picture, that Vinterberg – who writes as well as directs – turns his focus on. The political issues thrown up by a country abandoning itself and creating its own diaspora are given short shrift in favour of examining the personal impact of what forging a new tribe of refugees entails. The heart of the story is 18-year-old Laura (Amaryllis April August), whose one key mystifying decision to derail her own future in order to support her struggling mother sends ripples across Europe as she lands everyone – from her dad and his new family, to her recently met love-of-her-life – into a tailspin. Now I'm not one to try and control the characters in TV dramas (until we get truly interactive, let's face it: it's a thankless task) but it takes a whole suspension bridge of disbelief to go with the flow of the wildly illogical choices each and every character makes here as their lives are summarily upended. Laura's not the only one with her finger on the self-destruct button. Henrik (Magnus Millang) is another character who will have you shouting at the screen in bafflement as he repeatedly sets about detonating his marriage to husband, government official Nikolaj (Esben Smed), thanks to his outsized victim mentality. But shouting at the screen means that, for all their inexplicable actions, these characters have a way of getting under your skin. Put yourself in their place: what would you do if you found yourself washed up on the margins of a world where any potential lifelines come swathed in choking red tape? It's a tough question because no one comes out too well in Vinterberg's scenario. The undercurrent coursing through Families Like Ours is a sour take on humanity, a recourse to base survival instincts only occasionally sweetened by random acts of kindness. Fascinating and infuriating in equal measure and ultimately oddly moving, for all its flaws, Families Like Ours pulls you into its emotional slipstream and won't let go.
