Latest news with #Lynchian
Evening Standard
17-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Evening Standard
Johnny Depp's new London art exhibition pays tribute to his ex-wife and children
Elsewhere, we see other pieces from that time. The Bunnyman Genesis (2023) is a Donnie Darko-alike set of images, that references a Bunnyman figure that both Depp and his son Jack had experienced in recurring dreams. In Tarot (2024), the piece The Empress paid tribute to Paradis. These are louds works, making use of Rizla papers, explosions of colour and a certain Lynchian unnerving oddness. These feel like fond and protective moments in time but it's also tempting to view them as warnings - of the future, or to himself - but it may just be a sign that often the productive creative periods can come alongside the most settled home lives. Depp fans will find much to dwell on.
The Journal
13-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Journal
Sitdown Sunday: She turned her life story into a bestselling memoir - but was it all a lie?
IT'S A DAY of rest, and you may be in the mood for a quiet corner and a comfy chair. We've hand-picked some of the week's best reads for you to savour. 1. The real Salt Path Gillian Anderson, who plays Raynor Winn in the film adaptation of The Salt Path, stands beside the author at the premiere in Munich. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo Raynor Winn's The Salt Path, telling her unbelievable life story, sold millions of copies worldwide and was adapted into a blockbuster film. When a newspaper decided to investigate her tales, they uncovered a scandal. ( The Observer , approx 19 mins reading time) Winn has since written two sequels and has a lucrative publishing deal with Penguin to produce at least one more. Five weeks ago The Salt Path reached new audiences when it was released in the UK as a film, starring Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs, and Winn is a co-producer. Standing proudly on the red carpet outside the Lighthouse Cinema in Newquay, Raynor, 60, told TV cameras at the film's UK premiere that the experience was 'almost unbelievable'. In that moment, she and Moth seemed like the ultimate examples of British grit and perseverance. Back in Wales, Hemmings saw a very different picture. Because she knew something about Winn that almost everyone – her publishers, her agents, the film producers – had missed. She knew that Raynor Winn wasn't her real name and that several aspects of her story were untrue. She also believed she was a thief. 2. Something in the water Notorious serial killers Ted Bundy, Charles Manson and Gary Ridgway all lived in Tacoma in the 1960s. A new book examines whether lead pollution played a role in their crimes. ( The New Yorker , approx 15 mins reading time) Fraser thinks the master key is to be found in the fact that these serial killers disproportionately originated in the counties and milieu of her childhood. The area south and southwest of Seattle was home to massive ore-processing facilities, and she, her classmates, and her subjects were reared in their murky, particulate shadows. 'Spare some string for the smelters and smoke plumes,' she writes of her crazy wall, 'those insidious killers, shades of Hades.' The smelters caused a profusion of heavy metals in the region's air and water, and toxins such as lead and arsenic were found in staggering concentrations in the blood of Tacoma's postwar children. Some were merely dulled, or delinquent; a few became tabloid monsters. Bundy was the most famous figure in 'a long line of outlandishly wanton necrophiliac killers who've lived, at one time or another, within the Tacoma smelter plume.' Fraser waxes in a self-consciously Lynchian register, with stygian and hallucinatory descriptions of the Pacific Northwest. In Tacoma, she writes, it was 'as if someone had scratched through to the underworld and released a savage wave of sulfur.' 3. The Initial Teaching Alphabet Advertisement A 1966 Ladybird ITA (Initial Teaching Alphabet) book titled 'The Poleesman'. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo A generation of UK schoolchildren were left unable to read and write after being taught an alternative alphabet in an experiment to boost reading skills. ( The Guardian , approx 12 mins reading time) My mum grew up in Blackburn in the 1960s, a bright child who skipped a year and started secondary school early. She doesn't remember the details of how ITA was introduced. 'That's just what we were taught,' she tells me. 'I didn't know there was another way, or that I was going to graduate on to something else. 'I'm nearly 60, and poor spelling has dogged me my whole life,' she continues. 'Teachers always used to make jokes about my spelling, and I'd get those dreaded red rings around my work.' English was always her favourite subject, but it quickly became a source of shame. 'I remember that absolute dread of reading in front of the class, stumbling on words. And then, at A-level, I'll never forget my English teacher said to me, 'You'll never get an A because of your spelling.' That was crushing. English was the one subject I loved – I felt so aggrieved.' 4. Using AI to humiliate women A whistleblower has revealed details of how lucrative it is to run an app that uses AI to create fake nude images of women for millions of users. ( Der Spiegel , approx 14 mins reading time) Nudify apps are not hidden in obscure forums or on pornography platforms, rather they are freely available on the internet. The only limitation: Many of these services only work with women's bodies. The AI programs they use have apparently never been trained to produce naked pictures of men. Images of women in underwear are usually free, with faked photos of subjects in typical pornographic poses available for a price of just a few euros. Clothoff is one of the leading apps on the market. In just the first six months of 2024, the website received 27 million visitors, with an average of 200,000 pictures being produced by the program each day, according to the company. Thousands of women have likely become victims of the app. 5. RMS Empress of Ireland People aboard the RMS Empress of Ireland at the Liverpool harbour in 1914. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo The ship sank two years after the Titanic and had an even higher passenger death toll. In this piece, Eve Lazurus recounts the tragedy and examines the story of Gordon Charles Davidson, who reportedly swam over six kilometres and managed to survive. ( The Walrus , approx 10 mins reading time) The Storstad was on its way to Montreal, carrying more than 10,000 tons of coal. She had a reinforced hull that could slice through winter ice, and at that moment, she was headed to Father Point to collect a pilot who would navigate the ship up the St. Lawrence. Her sharp prow ripped through the Empress 's steel plates and cabins, tearing a 32.5-square-metre hole in the ship's starboard side, well below the waterline. More than 200,000 litres of water a second poured into the Empress, causing catastrophic flooding in the engine rooms and lower decks. The furnaces flooded. The power went out. The ship was thrown into darkness before most of the sleeping passengers could even grasp what was happening. Those who had managed to leave their cabins were left groping around in the pitch dark, trying to find a way out, clawing their way up the tilting stairs. Because they had boarded the ship mere hours earlier, they were unfamiliar with the ship's layout. In just thirty seconds, the Empress had taken on almost half her own weight in water. After a minute and a half, the boiler rooms were flooded with the equivalent of nine Olympic swimming pools of water. 6. The secret lives of icons From staying with Marlon Brando on his private island in Tahiti to touring with Dolly Parton and spending days with Al Pacino, Lawrence Grobel interviewed some of the most famous stars on Earth. From his diary, this is a glimpse of their candid conversations. Related Reads Sitdown Sunday: Virginia Giuffre's family share what happened in her final days Sitdown Sunday: The disappearance of a Texas student, and the online sleuths trying to solve it Sitdown Sunday: 'How many?' The mysterious heist of 280,000 eggs from the US's biggest producer ( Vanity Fair , approx 40 mins reading time) Took three days before Marlon agreed to let me turn on the tape recorder. I'd ask, 'Feel like working?' He'd answer, 'No, not really.' So, we sat and stared at the bay and talked, off the record. He'd say, 'It's all very elemental here: the sea, the sky, the crabs, the wind. If the mermaids don't sing for me here, they never will.' I joked, 'Yeah, this is the life, Marl, just sitting here in silence, in the elemental wonder of it all.' When I mentioned acting, he'd say, 'Acting bores me.' And I said, 'I know, but if I was talking to Heifetz, I'd be asking him about music, and if I was with Mickey Mantle, I'd talk to him about baseball.' And he'd respond, 'If you were with William O. Douglas, would you ask him what Marilyn Monroe thought of him?' And on it went. We ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, went night sailing, walked on the beach, sat on the pier under a strong moon, played chess until 1 a.m., and somehow managed to tape 15 hours of conversation that I'll transcribe myself because he spoke very softly. Not as psychological as Streisand or as playful as Parton, but it's Brando. Witty, funny, serious, and memorable. Took 68 pages of notes that I'll add to this journal. …AND A CLASSIC FROM THE ARCHIVES… Two men guard the gate to the farm near Zanesville, Ohio on 4 May 2012. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo The riveting but grim 2012 longread about Terry Thompson, an Ohio man who had dozens of exotic animals on his farm, and the night he let them all free. ( GQ , approx 56 mins reading time) A little before five o'clock on the evening of October 18, 2011, as the day began to ebb away, a retired schoolteacher named Sam Kopchak left the home he shared with his 84-year-old mother and headed into the paddock behind their house to attend to the horse he'd bought nine days earlier. Red, a half-Arabian pinto, was acting skittish and had moved toward the far corner of the field. On the other side of the flimsy fence separating them from his neighbor Terry Thompson's property, Kopchak noticed that Thompson's horses seemed even more agitated. They were circling, and in the center of their troubled orbit there was some kind of dark shape. Only when the shape broke out of the circle could Kopchak see that it was a black bear. Kopchak wasn't overly alarmed by this sight, unexpected as it was, maybe because the bear wasn't too big as black bears go, and maybe because it was running away from him. He knew what he'd do: put Red in the barn, go back to the house, report what he'd seen. This plan soon had to be revised. He and Red had taken only a few steps toward the barn when Kopchak saw something else, close by, just ahead of them on the other side of the fence. Just sitting there on the ground, facing their way. A fully grown male African lion. Note: The Journal generally selects stories that are not paywalled, but some might not be accessible if you have exceeded your free article limit on the site in question. Readers like you are keeping these stories free for everyone... A mix of advertising and supporting contributions helps keep paywalls away from valuable information like this article. Over 5,000 readers like you have already stepped up and support us with a monthly payment or a once-off donation. Learn More Support The Journal
Vogue
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Vogue
Why, Exactly, Is Carrie Bradshaw Living in a Gramercy Park Townhouse?
Finally, something to live for: And Just Like That…, the Sex and the City sequel most accurately described as a series produced under the influence of a gas leak, has returned to our screens for the summer. I love this show and wait for it all year long, ringing people's doorbells while muttering 'Hey, it's Che Diaz' to myself and having fever dreams about its Lynchian sex scenes (a term that is often misused, but not in this case!). If AJLT ever ends, I will have no choice but to take my own life atop a Peloton in protest; as a friend said to me way back when the pilot aired, this show must go on until we watch them lower Sarah Jessica Parker into her actual grave. In the first episode of the third season, Miranda deflowers a Canadian nun played by Rosie O'Donnell! I didn't know art could reach such towering heights—almost as tall as the doors in Carrie Bradshaw's colossal new Gramercy Park townhouse. For yes, Carrie has left her famous alcove studio behind, settling in an enormous mansion at 8 Gramercy Park West, just across the street from New York's prettiest and most exclusive little park (in real life, this is the address of an apartment building, and in a vaguely egalitarian twist, one of only two rental buildings that grant residents keys to the gated park itself). She bought the place in the hopes that longtime on-again, off-again love Aidan Shaw would live there with her and his three terrifying sons, only for him to put the relationship on ice to focus on caring for his 14-year-old down on the family farm in Virginia. Actor John Corbett is six feet and five inches tall, but he is still dwarfed by the Gramercy place's impressive doors, at least when he manages to get there. As far as life decisions go, this was not one of Carrie's finest.
Yahoo
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Los Angeles Curfew Shuts Down Movies, Concerts in Downtown Area
As Mayor Karen Bass implemented a curfew in the downtown area of Los Angeles, entertainment venues such as the Music Center and the Alamo Drafthouse theaters canceled evening programming Tuesday night and for at least the next day or two. Bass said that a one-square-mile area would come under the curfew starting at 8 p.m. Tuesday night and could continue for 'several nights.' The Alamo Drafthouse posted,' Heads up, we're closed for the evening because of the curfew. Tickets for this evening's remaining shows will be refunded automatically. (Note that it may take a couple of days to show up.).' More from Variety Reimagining 'Hamlet' as a Lynchian L.A. Story: Director Robert O'Hara on Doing Shakespeare With a Noir/'Mulholland Drive' Twist at the Mark Taper Patrick Ball on Playing 'Hamlet' at the Mark Taper by Night, While Shooting 'The Pitt' Season 2 by Day: 'They're Both Disgraced Princes... I'm in My Prince Era Here' Alamo Drafthouse Strike Ends With All Laid Off Staffers to Be Rehired Also on Tuesday, an FYC event featuring the music of 'Cobra Kai' at the Grammy museum was cancelled. Bass implemented the curfew after mostly peaceful daytime protests against recent ICE raids turned more destructive, with several stores looted. Although other events in the L.A. Live area were canceled, Regal's L.A. Live multiplex appeared to still be selling tickets for Wednesday night. L.A. Live is within the curfew area which extends to the 10 freeway on the south side, the 110 on the west and the 5 on the east. There are exceptions for those who live and work downtown, but Bass emphasized that those who did not belong in the area would be arrested. On Tuesday night, the LAPD arrested 25 people for curfew violations, according to the L.A. Times. In addition to entertainment venues, the closures will seriously impact the business of hundreds of downtown restaurants and clubs. Among the cancelations Tuesday and beyond are: Tuesday's performance of 'Hamlet' at the Mark Taper Theater was also canceled, the Center Theatre Group announced. Walt Disney Concert Hall's Seoul Chamber Music concert was canceled Tuesday. Friday's Fly High fest at the Peacock Theater at L.A. Live is of Variety 'Harry Potter' TV Show Cast Guide: Who's Who in Hogwarts? 25 Hollywood Legends Who Deserve an Honorary Oscar New Movies Out Now in Theaters: What to See This Week
Yahoo
05-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘The Love That Remains' Review: Hlynur Pálmason Follows ‘Godland' With a Snapshot of Marital Dissolution More Elemental Than Affecting
Over three features set in his native Iceland, Hlynur Pálmason has established a distinctive feel for the power of landscapes and elemental forces to shape human relationships, positioning them in stark relief. A feeling as intimate as isolation can take on epic dimensions under the writer-director's gaze, notably in his 2022 head-turner Godland, an austerely beautiful study of man vs. nature whose spirituality is pierced by shards of wily humor and Lynchian strangeness. Similar qualities are evident in The Love That Remains (Ástin sem eftir er), albeit on a smaller canvas of domestic breakdown. Serving as his own DP — and shooting on 35mm in Academy ratio — Pálmason's expansive sense of composition remains striking in this drama of a ruptured marriage, which is never less than compelling even at its most frustrating. His untethered imagination generates images that can function as visual metaphors or abstract enigmas. But as the film evolves into an increasingly fragmented collage of juxtaposed surreal and everyday vignettes, any emotional connection to the characters begins to fade. More from The Hollywood Reporter Uberto Pasolini's 'The Return,' Ira Sachs' 'Peter Hujar's Day' Set for 2025 Mediterrane Film Festival in Malta Russell Brand Pleads Not Guilty to Rape, Indecent and Sexual Assault Charges in London Sky Doc on Flight 149 British Airways Passengers, Crew Held Hostage by Saddam Hussein Gets Trailer There's a rich history of screen dramas about unraveling marriages that eschew the mawkish tendencies of weepie melodrama. From Kramer vs. Kramer to Shoot the Moon; Scenes From a Marriage to Marriage Story. Asghar Farhadi's morally complex and culturally specific A Separation is a noteworthy standout of recent decades. On the less rewarding end of the spectrum, Carlos Reygadas' Our Time is a maddeningly self-indulgent slog and arguably the director's least interesting movie. Like that 2018 Mexican feature, Pálmason's new film also casts members of his own family — his three children — whose unselfconscious spontaneity seems the result of growing up around a father rarely without a camera. The director has always been less interested in plot than character, mood and atmosphere, and this movie's idiosyncratic storytelling goes a long way toward papering over its flaws. Even if it's sometimes the cause of them. It opens with the startling image of a roof being crumpled and lifted off an empty warehouse building by crane, hovering in the air briefly like a UFO before being swung around out of the frame. The building is the former studio of visual artist Anna (Saga Gardarsdottir) and its demolition by developers provides an apt metaphor for the lid being lifted off her world. She works hard to balance her life as a frazzled but caring mother to three spirited children — teenage Ída (Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir) and her tow-headed preteen brothers Grímur and Porgils (Grímur and Porgils Hlynsson) — with chasing the elusive next step to gallery representation and wider recognition. Anna's methodology for creating her paintings (borrowed from Pálmason's own visual arts process) is highly physical, hinting at the Herculean strength and dedication required to make art. Working in a field, she arranges large iron cutout shapes on raw canvases, weighting them down with wood or stones and leaving them exposed to the elements through the winter, allowing rust and dirt, rain and snow to 'paint' them. We get little concrete information about what triggered Anna's breakup with the kids' father, Magnús (Sverrir Gudnason), who appears already to be living separately from the family when the film begins. He's away at sea for long stretches on an industrial fishing trawler during herring season and there's a hint of him not pulling his weight with parental responsibilities. There's a sense of the uneasy coexistence of man and nature in scenes with massive nets being hauled in by a mechanized winch and a silver blur of fish by the hundreds funneled into storage while an orca bobs around looking to get a taste of the catch. Glimpses of Magnús alone in his cabin on the boat, or his prickly interactions with insensitively prying shipmates, quietly reveal his gnawing sense of solitude. Magnús keeps dropping by the family home unannounced, staying for a meal or just a beer with Anna. There's even sex on occasion, but mostly, Anna's residual fondness for him is frayed by impatience and annoyance. She's ready to move on with her life while he's like a clingy puppy, refusing to let go. Gudnason plays the awkwardness of these scenes with raw feeling, in contrast to Gardarsdottir's more matter-of-fact resilience. Moments in which Magnús gets testy because the boys automatically respond to their mother's chore requests while they ignore his stabs at basic discipline — like clearing their own dinner plates and loading them into the dishwasher — are poignant illustrations of the way he has become an outsider in his former home. Anna's taxing attempts to make professional inroads are distilled in a string of scenes in which a Swedish gallerist (Anders Mossling) accepts her invitation to visit. The dreary windbag shows little interest in the work she has painstakingly hung in a new studio rental ('Are they all the same color?') then subjects her to a mind-numbing monologue about the health properties of wine over lunch, to which she listens in silence. When she shows him her works-in-progress laid out in the open field, he's more attentive to the beauty of the hilltop coastal setting, gasping over the glacier across the bay or stealing an egg from a goose's nest. The scene in which she drops him at the airport for his return flight has an acerbic bite. He tells her he has no space for her work and patronizes her with empty assurances that she will find the right gallery, or the right gallery will find her. In response to his joking reference to his mother, Anna mutters, 'Your mother's a whore,' while the dead-eyed look on her face expresses her wish for his plane to crash. Pálmason and his actors tap the melancholy vein of two people drifting apart after a long shared history when Anna first lies to Magnús about the gallerist's visit being a success, then opens up about her soul-crushing day, venting her anger about the man's self-absorbed tediousness. But even in those moments of closeness, it's clear that while Magnús wants to go back to the way things were, that time has passed for Anna, who discourages him from spending the night and confusing the children. Quite often, she just seems exhausted by him, even if the director shows nonjudgmental compassion for both characters. One thread that Pálmason shot two years earlier observes the scarecrow figure that Grímur and Porgils assemble on the edge of the field where their mother works, gradually assuming the appearance of an armored knight as the seasons change. They use the effigy as an archery target, which foreshadows an alarming accident late in the film. The knight also comes to life at one point, paying a nocturnal visit to Magnús, as does a monster-size apparition of the rooster he killed when Anna complained of its aggressive behavior in the chicken coop. But these fantastical interludes — sparked by the b&w creature features Magnús falls asleep watching on late-night TV — tend to be opaque rather than illuminating. A more effective blurring of the lines between fantasy and reality is a sequence in which Magnús imagines — or does he? — being adrift at sea, waiting to be picked up by a boat to deliver him back to shore. That image of distance, as hope recedes, makes for a haunting closing shot. Both leads are excellent, conveying the weary sadness of separation, underscored by enduring affections, and the naturalness of the three children adds immeasurably to the drama's intimacy. Ingvar Sigurdsson (unforgettable in Godland and Pálmason's previous film, the searing drama of grief and jealousy A White, White Day) makes a welcome appearance as Anna's warm, down-to-earth dad. There's much to admire in Pálmason's unconventional approach to what could have been familiar domestic drama. But the dreamlike detours threaten to overwhelm the tender portrait of a family breakup. The film is most affecting in its casual observation — set to the jazz-inflected melodies of Harry Hunt's Playing Piano for Dad album — of moments like Anna and the three children sprawled across the couch watching TV; a reprieve from separation tension during a family hiking and picnic day, when they pick wild mushrooms and berries; the kids skating on a frozen pond; gently handling fluffy, freshly hatched chicks; or playing basketball as the family's scene-stealing Icelandic sheepdog Panda (Pálmason's own dog) darts about barking, wanting to join in. As imaginative as the surreal departures are, it's the magic of those quotidian moments in a fractured family's life that resonate most. Best of The Hollywood Reporter 13 of Tom Cruise's Most Jaw-Dropping Stunts Hollywood Stars Who Are One Award Away From an EGOT 'The Goonies' Cast, Then and Now
