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Yahoo
13-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Brian Wilson's complex relationship with his daughters resurfaces after death
Brian Wilson's complex relationship with his daughters has resurfaced after his death. The Beach Boys icon's passing aged 82 following a long dementia battle was announced on Wednesday (11.06.25) at the age of 82, and he had daughters Carnie Wilson, 57, and Wendy Wilson, 55, with his first wife Marilyn Wilson, a singer with 1960s girl group The Honeys. Carnie and Wendy's parents divorced in 1979 after a turbulent marriage marked by Brian's struggles with substance abuse and mental health, including a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder. The breakdown of the relationship led to years of estrangement between the musician and his daughters, with limited contact during their formative years. Brian remarried in 1995, wedding Melinda Ledbetter. Together they adopted five children – Dakota Rose, Daria Rose, Delanie Rose, Dylan and Dash. While his younger children remained out of the public spotlight, Carnie and Wendy went on to form the pop trio Wilson Phillips in 1989 alongside Chynna Phillips, daughter of John and Michelle Phillips of The Mamas and the Papas. The group achieved rapid commercial success in the early 1990s with hits including Hold On, Release Me and You're in Love. Despite their fame, Carnie and Wendy's personal relationship with their father remained strained. In a 1992 interview with the Los Angeles Times quoted by the Daily Mail, Carnie said: 'We can't call him up and we can't see him. I guess we could, but we're so afraid of each other. I don't know what I would say to him.' That same year, the sisters addressed their estrangement through a track titled Flesh and Blood, featured on Wilson Phillips' second album Shadows and Light. The song was written as an emotional outreach to their father. Their lyrics included the lines: 'If you never plan to come out of your shell / You're never gonna get well… For years I've been following your case / It's the only time I see your face.' Carnie also told the Los Angeles Times she was unsure how Brian would respond to the tune: 'He's either going to cry real hard, or else just stare at something and get (mad.)' A reconciliation between Brian and his daughters began in 1994, when the family reunited after years of minimal contact. Speaking to People at the time, Carnie said: 'Wendy and I are doing demo tapes for our debut album as a duo, and I hope Daddy will provide background harmonies. I know that one day we'll all work together.' The connection strengthened in later years, particularly through music. Carnie also told UsWeekly in 2024 Brian had become one of Wilson Phillips' biggest supporters. She said: 'He also loves Wilson Phillips. He really does. 'He's always asking me, 'How's Wilson Phillips?' I go, 'We're great, Dad.' He's funny. He's very proud.' Even after being diagnosed with a neurocognitive disorder similar to dementia, Brian continued to share musical moments with his daughters. Carnie told UsWeekly: 'We love to sing Surfer Girl and In My Room. 'Sometimes a little California Girls, (which is) his favourite, and sometimes we do Be My Baby.' Though the Wilson sisters largely avoided trading on their famous surname early in their career, their eventual musical collaborations with their father marked a shift. Carnie said of their family connections in the Los Angeles Times: 'We didn't want people to think that they were (the reasons for) our success. Because they weren't.'
Perth Now
13-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
Brian Wilson's complex relationship with his daughters resurfaces after death
Brian Wilson's complex relationship with his daughters has resurfaced after his death. The Beach Boys icon's passing aged 82 following a long dementia battle was announced on Wednesday (11.06.25) at the age of 82, and he had daughters Carnie Wilson, 57, and Wendy Wilson, 55, with his first wife Marilyn Wilson, a singer with 1960s girl group The Honeys. Carnie and Wendy's parents divorced in 1979 after a turbulent marriage marked by Brian's struggles with substance abuse and mental health, including a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder. The breakdown of the relationship led to years of estrangement between the musician and his daughters, with limited contact during their formative years. Brian remarried in 1995, wedding Melinda Ledbetter. Together they adopted five children – Dakota Rose, Daria Rose, Delanie Rose, Dylan and Dash. While his younger children remained out of the public spotlight, Carnie and Wendy went on to form the pop trio Wilson Phillips in 1989 alongside Chynna Phillips, daughter of John and Michelle Phillips of The Mamas and the Papas. The group achieved rapid commercial success in the early 1990s with hits including Hold On, Release Me and You're in Love. Despite their fame, Carnie and Wendy's personal relationship with their father remained strained. In a 1992 interview with the Los Angeles Times quoted by the Daily Mail, Carnie said: 'We can't call him up and we can't see him. I guess we could, but we're so afraid of each other. I don't know what I would say to him.' That same year, the sisters addressed their estrangement through a track titled Flesh and Blood, featured on Wilson Phillips' second album Shadows and Light. The song was written as an emotional outreach to their father. Their lyrics included the lines: 'If you never plan to come out of your shell / You're never gonna get well… For years I've been following your case / It's the only time I see your face.' Carnie also told the Los Angeles Times she was unsure how Brian would respond to the tune: 'He's either going to cry real hard, or else just stare at something and get (mad.)' A reconciliation between Brian and his daughters began in 1994, when the family reunited after years of minimal contact. Speaking to People at the time, Carnie said: 'Wendy and I are doing demo tapes for our debut album as a duo, and I hope Daddy will provide background harmonies. I know that one day we'll all work together.' The connection strengthened in later years, particularly through music. Carnie also told UsWeekly in 2024 Brian had become one of Wilson Phillips' biggest supporters. She said: 'He also loves Wilson Phillips. He really does. 'He's always asking me, 'How's Wilson Phillips?' I go, 'We're great, Dad.' He's funny. He's very proud.' Even after being diagnosed with a neurocognitive disorder similar to dementia, Brian continued to share musical moments with his daughters. Carnie told UsWeekly: 'We love to sing Surfer Girl and In My Room. 'Sometimes a little California Girls, (which is) his favourite, and sometimes we do Be My Baby.' Though the Wilson sisters largely avoided trading on their famous surname early in their career, their eventual musical collaborations with their father marked a shift. Carnie said of their family connections in the Los Angeles Times: 'We didn't want people to think that they were (the reasons for) our success. Because they weren't.'
New York Post
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Post
Carnie Wilson breaks silence on dad Brian Wilson's death with heartbreaking message
Carnie Wilson is mourning the death of a legendary family member. The Beach Boys co-founder Brian Wilson's eldest daughter shared an Instagram tribute Wednesday reacting to his death at age 82. 'I have no words to express the sadness I feel right now,' Carnie began her emotional message, alongside a throwback photo of herself with Brian and her sister Wendy Wilson. 9 Brian Wilson with his daughters Carnie and Wendy. carnie68/Instagram 'My Father @brianwilsonlive was every fiber of my body,' Carnie continued. 'He will be remembered by millions and millions until the world ends. I am lucky to have been his daughter and had a soul connection with him that will live on always.' The Wilson Phillips singer admitted that she's 'never felt this kind of pain before' in regards to her dad's death. 9 Carnie and Brian Wilson during 2005 MusiCares Person of the Year. WireImage 'But I know he's resting up there in heaven,' she added, 'or maybe playing the piano for Grandma Audree his Mom. I will post something else soon but this is all my hands will let me type.' 'I love you Daddy….I miss [you so much] already,' Carnie concluded. 9 Carnie Wilson at the 'Hollywood Houselift With Jeff Lewis' premiere in Los Angeles in Dec. 2023. Getty Images Brian welcomed Carnie and Wendy, 55, with his first wife, Marilyn Wilson-Rutherford, whom he was married to from 1964 to 1979. The siblings formed the pop music group Wilson Phillips with Chynna Phillips in 1989. Carnie's daughter Lola Bonfiglio, 19, also paid tribute to Brian with a throwback photo of the music pioneer holding Bonfiglio as a baby at the piano. 9 Brian Wilson with his granddaughter Lola. 'I love you grandpa. you changed the world. you have left an invaluable mark on me and so many others and i am blessed to have had you in my life,' Bonfiglio wrote. 'i will forever do music in your honor. rest in music paradise🕊️🤍.' Brian's family confirmed Wednesday that the singer passed away. 'We are heartbroken to announce that our beloved father Brian Wilson has passed away,' their statement read. 'We are at a loss for words right now.' 9 Carnie Wilson, Brian Wilson, Melinda Wilson and Wendy Wilson in 2001. WireImage 9 Wendy Wilson, Brian Wilson and Carnie Wilson perform in Los Angeles in March 2015. FilmMagic 'Please respect our privacy at this time as our family is grieving. We realize that we are sharing our grief with the world,' the Wilsons added. Brian was also a father to five adopted children that he shared with his second wife, Melinda Kae Ledbetter. The couple were married from 1995 until Ledbetter's death in 2024 at age 77. Since Brian struggled with alcohol and drug use and became a recluse during the height of his fame, Carnie and Wendy were estranged from their famous dad while growing up. They even wrote the 1992 song 'Flesh and Blood' for Brian in hopes of reconciling. 9 Wendy Wilson, Brian Wilson, Carnie Wilson and Chynna Phillips in 2004. FilmMagic 'We can't call him up and we can't see him,' Carnie told the Los Angeles Times in 1992. 'I guess we could, but we're so afraid of each other. I don't know what I would say to him.' Brian later made amends with his two eldest children. In April 2024, Carnie told Us Weekly that Brian is to thank for the family's music talents. 9 Carnie Wilson at the premiere of the Disney+ documentary 'The Beach Boys' in May 2024. Getty Images for Disney 'To sing with my dad, to sing with Lola and then all of us singing together [is great],' Carnie shared. 'Over Easter, we were singing some Beach Boy songs for him, for my dad, and he couldn't get over it. I said, 'Dad, Lola's voice.' He said, 'She's great. She's great.'' After Ledbetter's death last year, Brian's family filed to place him under a conservatorship and revealed that he was suffering from dementia. 9 Melinda Ledbetter, Brian Wilson and Carnie Wilson in 2015. Getty Images Brian founded the Beach Boys in 1961 with his brothers, Dennis and Carl. The group went from local California band to worldwide superstars, with hits including 'Surfin' USA,' 'I Get Around,' 'Help Me, Rhonda,' 'California Girls' and 'Good Vibrations,' all of which were written or co-written by Brian. His bandmates Mike Love and Al Jardine both paid tribute to Brian on social media after news of his death.
The Guardian
15-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘It's like a men's shed': inside the Pokémon trading card communities rocked by a string of brazen thefts
On a sleepy Tuesday night, beneath an arts and crafts store in the heart of Sydney, there are battles raging. Long white tables stretch out under bright lights to the back of the room. Chairs on each side are occupied by hoodies, smart work shirts and pop culture tees as players – mostly men – arch forward in deep focus. Tonight is a weekly event for trading card games, with two different games to do battle in: a tournament for a fantasy game, known as Flesh and Blood, takes up most of the space. But it's the other card game I've come to watch, Pokémon. On one side of the table, Chloe Appleby, a 30-year-old museum games curator, shuffles a deck of cards in lilac protector sleeves. I'm her guest for the evening, invited into a world I have often heard about but have little experience of. On the other side her colleague, Dai (who requested only his first name be used), does the same – his cards protected by red sleeves. They both draw a hand of seven and, with a dice roll, Appleby wins the crucial first turn. What unfolds over the next half hour is an elegant dance, each step dictated by chance and calculated with precise math. A misstep or miscalculation and your opponent will take the upper hand. It's well established that Pokémon cards boomed during the pandemic, but they have been big business since their first release in the 1990s. A new wave of fandom and attention, brought about by social media stars brandishing rare finds and an enduring, nostalgic love of Pokémon, has seen their popularity peak once again. In recent months, the demand for new cards has been so high that it's been difficult to find them at many local game stores and retailers. 'Pokémon is definitely one of our most popular games and it has been even more popular in recent years as we're seeing an increase in public awareness of the game,' says Dayna Mortimore, marketing manager at Melbourne's Ozzie Collectables. Appleby says there has been an insane demand for cards, coupled with the Pokémon Company producing limited stock of new sets. That's seen cards that usually go for $5 sell for upwards of $20. The real rarities for players top out at more than US$1,500, double their typical prices, while collector cards reach mind-boggling prices, selling for millions of dollars. But the fervour also appears to have led to an increase in criminal activity targeting games stores. Since September last year, a spate of brazen robberies has rocked Victoria. In early February alone, five stores across Melbourne's north-west were hit in six days. 'It's kind of like being on a life raft and seeing all the sharks swimming around you,' says Jason Zhe, owner of a store in Melbourne's north-west that was allegedly burgled. Game store owners and managers allege there were at least 15 break-ins over the period, with estimates that $500,000 worth of stock had been stolen. But while they say the break-ins left them anxious and fearful, several told Guardian Australia the impact of the alleged thefts go beyond missing stock. They disrupt the spaces the stores provide, particularly for young men, to catch up and hang out with friends. 'Every card shop, if it has somewhere that people go sit down and play games in the store, that's forming communities,' said Lindsey Heming, owner of The Games Cube in Parramatta, which runs tournaments and provides space for casual players of trading card behemoth Magic: The Gathering. 'It's like a men's shed. People catch up, they see their friends, they have a chat. It's like their mental health weekly get-together.' As we get into the intricacies of the battle between Appleby and Dai, William Rue, a 22-year-old music teacher from Sydney's inner west, joins us. Two years ago, a friend suggested he come to a casual trading card evening. He got hooked. 'I ended up telling my job that I couldn't take Tuesday nights anymore, just so I could keep coming,' he says. Rue wasn't a huge fan of Pokémon games growing up. He liked them but never got super into them. It's not necessarily the Pokémon, or the card battles, that keep him coming back. 'Honestly, I come more for the community and the friends than actually playing. Like, I kind of suck,' he laughs. The group expands as Appleby and Dai get deeper in their match. At the head of the table, Shane and Paul post up in the plastic chairs. The pair met at school, some 20 years ago, and became fast friends because of, well, Pokémon cards. Appleby's passion started early. She has always had a fascination with Pokémon. Her favourite is Togepi, a bulbous and cuddly cherub, shaped like a star emerging from an egg. Picking up the card game was a natural evolution of that fandom, but the first time she walked into a games store to play, she felt nervous. The spaces are typically occupied by young men and not always the most welcoming to outsiders. On the night I watch Appleby and Dai battle it out, she's one of only three women in a room of about 30. Her first experience eased those nerves – she hit it off with some regulars and she's been going to Pokémon nights every Tuesday ever since. 'I've met lifelong friends from Pokémon' she says. 'All of these guys were at my wedding.' But she says a lot of work can be done to make women and marginalised genders feel more welcome. Community groups, such as Girl Power TCG, have appeared in recent years, aiming to make minority genders feel safe and comfortable both in casual settings, like the one we're in, and at regional and world tournaments. Those events are a whole other thing, I'm told. Competitive play requires an understanding of the metagame or 'meta' – the types of cards and decks that are currently being used by the world's best players. As the first battle finishes up in defeat for Appleby, we're in deep discussion about a Pokémon named Budew, a newly added card that has thrown the meta into disarray. There's no need to interrogate the finer points of the Budew-driven meltdowns here, dear reader. Much of the terminology is impenetrable. But what the discussions reveal are the importance of community and how it works together. If throwing cards on a table feels like an individual pursuit, this room proves that feeling is wrong. The best players strategise on how to set up a deck and combat shifts in the metagame. That is useful come tournament time – just ask Natalie Millar. Millar, 24, is a Brisbane-based public servant and Pokémon card guru. At the recent European Championships, she took out the silver medal, going down 2-1 in the final. She started playing when she was 13 years old and the foes she battled back then have become her friends and confidants. Ahead of big tournaments, they get together to practise and revise. Millar credits her wins to this. 'The group I prepare with at the moment is very crucial to any success I've had,' she says. 'All my recent tournament results are never just mine.' As Appleby plays her turn during a second battle against Dai, she shows her cards to Rue, Shane and Paul. They confer about optimal strategies and 'lines' – which Pokémon to play next, which support cards are going to be useful, the optimal path to a win. Eventually, Appleby claims victory. If the perception is that local game stores are the haunts of hoodie-wearing punks or shy quote-unquote nerds – OK, yes, there's definitely some of that in the room where Appleby and Dai battle it out. But those descriptors belie the foundational reality of Australia's local game stores: These are spaces where people feel safe, where they can indulge in their passion uninhibited. Victoria police arrested four men in conjunction with the burglaries in mid-February and the case against them is ongoing. Even as the value of Pokémon cards remains high and the spectre of theft lives on, these spaces continue to fill. 'The break-ins have been a unique challenge to our industry and by no means something to take lightly,' Mortimore says. 'We're very lucky, in that, none of us have let fear keep us down, and our player [and] local community seem to share that mindset.'
The Guardian
05-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Like Tears in Rain review – Rutger Hauer portrait takes deep dive into the archive
The late Dutch actor Rutger Hauer is probably still best known for his extraordinary turn as rebel replicant Roy Batty in Ridley Scott's Blade Runner, but that's not where the focus lies in this amiable but mostly unsurprising curio from his goddaughter Sanna Fabery de Jonge. Using the actor's own home movie footage, shot on lovely 16mm, plus new interviews with those close to him, including director Paul Verhoeven, actor Whoopi Goldberg, and his second wife Ineke ten Kate, a portrait emerges of a talented no-bullshit actor who fell slightly short of his potential due to Hollywood not being sure quite what to do with him. To be honest, that's more or less what most people who are aware of Hauer thought of him already, so it's not the case that this adds all that much to the narrative. The home movie archive is previously unseen, and there's a nostalgic pleasure to seeing beautiful grainy footage of a young Hauer (what the famously private actor would have thought of this archive being made public remains a slightly uninterrogated question). The film is thematically strongest in interviews with frequent collaborator Verhoeven, who is both one of the key factors that ensured Hauer broke through in the first place, and, according to a remorseful Verhoeven, a part of the reason he never became bigger. The sticking point was their 1985 collaboration Flesh and Blood, which Verhoeven admits that Hauer participated in against his better judgment, having decided after a positive experience on Richard Donner's Ladyhawke that he would rather play heroes than the villains who made his name. Verhoeven insisted Hauer honour their partnership, but appears to regret that decision now. Whether all this is of much interest to anyone who isn't already a locked-on fan of the actor is debatable, and if you are a diehard Hauer expert, there's probably not much here that you hadn't already guessed or intuited. There's very little opening out to draw any wider conclusions about the industry or acting in general, and fair enough, but it does mean that the overall sense of the film is that it's more of a curio aimed at those who simply can't get enough Hauer, than something that a wider audience could get a lot out of. It's a shame as something really interesting could have been done with the archive, but what's emerged is a bit of a DVD extra. Like Tears in Rain is on digital platforms from 10 March.
