Latest news with #PaulCole
The Independent
27-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
Derby-winning trainer Paul Cole announces his retirement
Legendary trainer Paul Cole has announced his retirement from horse training and will pass over the running of his yard to his son Oliver. The 83-year-old notched up 21 Royal Ascot successes, plus one in his recent partnership with Oliver and over 1,500 British winners, many out of his yard at Whatcombe in Oxfordshire, where he'd moved in 1987. Those included Generous, who gave Cole some great days, adding both the Irish Derby and King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Diamond Stakes to his Epsom triumph. Speaking to The Sun, Cole said: "I looked out at a horse this morning and just thought the time has come for me to retire. I've been sharing the licence with my son Oliver since 2020, and I'm just very old now. "Oliver knows what he's doing and is more than capable." At one time recognised for his prowess with juveniles, Cole won the 1990 St Leger with Snurge and also landed the 2003 Gold Cup at Royal Ascot with Mr Dinos. No stranger to success abroad, he won the 1992 Washington DC International with Zoman, plus two Italian Derbys and an Irish Oaks. He nominated Generous as the best horse he had trained. Cole attributed his success down to luck, determination and help from his late wife Vanessa who passed away in May of last year. He also revealed the best horse he ever trained was Generous who stormed to victory in the Derby in 1991. He said: "I have loved training but it was a way of earning some money, be able to get married and be able to educate the children. That's why we travelled the horses so much. So we could earn people money who owned the horses. "Generous was like Roy Rogers' famous animal Trigger in that he was a flashy chestnut and by Caerleon who wasn't that popular. "We did have to go above budget, to 200,000 Irish guineas, but we got him. Generous was the best I trained. He had an incredible turn of foot – he won over 5f first time out. "When he kicked nothing was going to pass him."
The Sun
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Legendary racehorse trainer famed for ‘spectacular' Derby winner announces retirement with son taking sole charge
PAUL COLE, the man I like to call 'Generous' and the trainer of the horse with that name who stormed to Derby victory in 1991, is set to relinquish his licence. "I looked out at a horse this morning and just thought the time has come for me to retire," Cole told me. 2 2 He said: "I've been sharing the licence with my son Oliver since 2020, and I'm just very old now. "Oliver knows what he's doing and is more than capable." With over 1,500 British winners to his name, Cole has been training out of his yard in Whatcombe, Wantage, since 1987 and has sent out a whole host of big-race winners during the last three decades, headlined by Generous, the spectacular 1991 Derby, Irish Derby and King George hero. Other notable triumphs for Cole, who was also crowned champion Flat trainer in Britain at the end of that memorable 1991 campaign, include the Classic victory of Snurge in the 1990 St Leger and the success of Mr Dinos in the 2003 Gold Cup at Royal Ascot. Other names familiar to a certain age group include Pass the Peace, Pouliches heroine Culture Vulture, Broken Hearted, Ruby Tiger and Bint Pasha. Cole could land a punt in big handicaps like the Lincoln and at one stage was 'King' of the two-year-olds. He also embraced the International scene, taking the 1992 Washington DC International with Zoman, two Italian Derbys, an Irish Oaks with Knights Baroness and Group 1s in Germany with Ibn Bey. Snurge banged in a Canadian International and Rubyt Tiger an EP Taylor. At Royal Ascot, Cole had 21 victories and one in partnership with Oli. They included juvenile successes with the likes of Dilum, Magic Ring, Fair Cop and Sri Pekan. Cole puts his success down to luck and a strong determination, helped very much by his late and much loved wife Vanessa, who sadly passed in May last year. He said: "Vanessa was a fantastic wife and a fantastic trainer's wife. She brought calmness and understanding. I could not have found anyone better." Of how it all started, Cole revealed: "My dad had farms but he sold then in the war which wasn't a great idea. "However, I was always around horses and went hunting. But we didn't have a lot of money. "My father knew someone who had a caravan park in Bournemouth and asked him if he would lend me the money to lease a yard. "One way or another I got a few horses together and I went to the Jockey Club to get a licence but I saw straight away there was a 'no' by my name. "You see, back then, you had to be in the right group of people to get accepted. "It was just after National Service was ending and the Jockey Club didn't understand that it was suddenly going to be approached by younger people who wanted to get in on the scene. "I had to re-apply but I wasn't going to give up. I wasn't that academically bright and it was just a case of thinking, 'what can I do?'. "I was thinking about being a stud manager when I was 21. But in the end I had no doubt what I really wanted to do. "I always had a feeling I would end up at Whatcombe and I'll continue living here and Oli will train here. "It was one of my ambitions to be here. I just had to facilitate how I was going to get here. "When we arrived it was nothing like it is now. It was all creosote and nails. Not much else." The 'Generous' year came about in unusual circumstances. The famed trainer told me: "Anthony Penfold was racing manager for Fahd Salman, and we met at Heathrow before heading to Goffs's. "I said to Anthony there would be some big buyers in Ireland and we would have to go for a horse with an unusual colour or pedigree. We got both. "Generous was like Roy Rogers' famous animal Trigger in that he was a flashy chestnut and by Caerleon who wasn't that popular. "We did have to go above budget, to 200,000 Irish guineas, but we got him. "Generous was the best I trained. He had an incredible turn of foot – he won over 5f first time out. "When he kicked nothing was going to pass him." Cole always trained with a mission. He said: "I have loved training but it was a way of earning some money, be able to get married and be able to educate the children. "That's why we travlled the horses so much. So we could earn people money who owned the horses.' Cole continued: "I loved to buy a cheap horse and win a big race. I think we got Sarab for £1800 and he won the Foret. That was special. "Snurge went everywhere. A warrior and a traveller." Cole has used many jockeys in his time, but Richard Quinn, Alan Munro and most recently, Jamie Spencer, a good friend of another of Cole's sons, Alexander, have been most in demand. Cole said: "Richard Quinn started with me. But Fahd Salman had a lot of advisors and they didn't always want him. "That said, I never really had any falling out with jockeys. "Quinn did the job that was needed. Alan Munro won the Derby on Generous and Jamie Spencer has done very well. He's a jockey for a certain type of horse." It's the end of an era with the retirement of Paul Cole. It follows the departure of the late Sir Henry Cecil, Sir Michael Stoute and Roger Charlton, huge names of the game. They all loved this sport. Cole finished off by saying to me: "What a lucky decision I made to go into racing. I started very humbly. And we won some of the biggest races." . Remember to gamble responsibly A responsible gambler is someone who:
Yahoo
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Looking back on Cumbria Pride as we celebrate LGBTQ culture
June is Pride Month, and we're remembering how we've celebrated the LGBTQ community, especially at the county's flagship event, Cumbria Pride. Paul Cole, left, chairman of Proud Sainsbury's and regional Pride Group with staff from Sainsbury's in Carlisle city centre (Image: Paula Thanner) The month commemorates the contributions of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer (LGBTQ) culture and community and coincides with the anniversary of the 1969 Stonewall riots, a series of gay liberation protests. Jamie Davidson, 16, and Sarah Purkis, 16, from Stanwix at Cumbria Pride (Image: Newsquest) The first Pride marches were held in four US cities in June 1970, a year after the riots at the Stonewall Inn. The New York City march, promoted as 'Christopher Street Liberation Day', alongside the parallel marches in Chicago, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, marked a watershed moment for LGBT rights. The crowd enjoys live music and acts in Carlisle city centre in 2016 (Image: Newsquest) An organiser of some of the first marches named Fred Sargeant stated the goal was to commemorate the Stonewall riots and further push for liberation. He noted that while the first marches were more akin to a protest than a celebration, they helped to remind people of LGBT communities and how they may include one's family and friends. Matthew Pagan performing at Cumbria Pride (Image: Newsquest) Transgender women and people of colour, including Marsha P Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, and Stormé DeLarverie, were largely excluded or silenced during the early marches, despite their prominent participation in the initial riots. Phoebe Robinson, five, and Sebastian Robinson, two, from Currock at Cumbria Pride (Image: Newsquest) Following the Stonewall riots and the first Pride marches, the number of LGBT groups rapidly increased, and the Pride movement spread across the United States after a few years. While many Pride celebrations around the world are held in June, some cities vary the observation at different times, partially due to local weather conditions. Lisa Hart as Madonna performs at Cumbria Pride (Image: Newsquest) Polyamory Pride Day is celebrated every year on a day in Pride Month. Mike Story and daughter Olivia, 12, from Currock (Image: Newsquest) Cumbria Pride aims to bring the community together with Pride events that celebrate diversity, inclusion, love and unity, with musical performances, inspirational speakers, and a wide range of stalls. The celebration is held each year in Carlisle in September. Glenn Anderson, chairman of Cumbria Pride, outside LGBT headquarters at Fisher Street, Carlisle (Image: Newsquest)
Los Angeles Times
12-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
In the slender and lovely ‘The Actor,' an amnesiac clings to his identity
'The Actor' is an identity-crisis fable set sometime in post-WWII America, when jazz was still as raucous as music got. The year is hazy, the location is vague and the images are soft and fuzzy around the edges. Crisp details can't exist because our lead, Paul Cole (André Holland), has amnesia. A member of a traveling theater troupe, Paul has been abandoned in a small-town hospital after a cuckolded husband conked him on the head. At least, that's the story he's been told. The movie is as slim and ephemeral as Paul's reality. One thing that's sure is that Paul is from the first generation to grow up absorbed in screens. Film and TV are the framework these characters use to explain life, from the soap opera that assures its viewers that the show is a place 'where everyone knows their lines' to a maniac who suggests Paul be clobbered again because she once saw a movie in which that fixed a broken brain. In turn, the filmmaker Duke Johnson (who co-directed Charlie Kaufman's soul-wrenching stop-motion drama 'Anomalisa') uses art to explain his characters. Stranded somewhere in the Midwest with no family, friends or hobbies, Paul wanders into a movie theater that's playing a cartoon in which Casper the Friendly Ghost meanders to the moon. The implication is clear: Paul is a lost soul. 'The Actor,' co-written by Johnson and Stephen Cooney, is based on 'Memory,' a lost book by the prolific pulp novelist Donald E. Westlake, which was published only after the author's death in 2008. (Westlake is most famous for his Parker series that's been reworked to star everyone from Robert Duvall to Jason Statham, and he also wrote the script for the John Cusack and Annette Bening crime caper 'The Grifters.') Technically, the story is a mystery-thriller. Paul doesn't know who he was — or should be — and his quest to find out is beset by antagonists. A rural cop (Toby Jones) wants to arrest him for adultery. A loan shark (also Jones) demands a cut of his wages from a tannery where Paul's trying to earn bus fare to the Manhattan address on his driver's license. But really, the core struggle is Paul's inner conflict. He can't decide whether he should stay put in the embrace of a charming local kook, Edna (Gemma Chan), or head back to the city where he suspects he enjoyed a more glamorous life. Arcade Fire instrumentalist Richard Reed Parry's fantastic score translates his options into music: Homespun Americana is all passionate strings, while New York City is hard and fast percussion that keeps pace with the pitter-patter of Paul's racing heart. It's the sound of an approaching breakdown. The amnesia conceit allows the film to highlight its artificiality: painted backdrops, stages that recede into blackness, supporting players recast in multiple roles. (Stay for the end-credits reveal of which actor played what — the MVP is 71-year-old Irish actress Olwen Fouéré, who disappears into both male and female disguises.) Editor Garret Elkins is deft at disorientation. I loved a gag where Paul gets whacked from one side of the frame by a bird and from the other side by a duffel bag. Meanwhile, cinematographer Joe Passarelli moves the camera like it's playing catch-up, using pans to show us that Paul isn't aware of anything that's not right in front of his face. Hours, even weeks, race by in the seconds Holland takes to walk from one set to another; later, a shot of Halloween stars melts into an image of Christmas snow. Johnson has been trying to adapt 'Memory' for 10 years. But of all the amnesia tales in existence, I'm not sure why he wanted to make this one. He's uninterested in the book's driving point: Paul's struggle to make sense of a world where petty rules have supplanted community and common sense. Between the high cost of housing, the unhelpful unemployment offices and the cops finding excuses to harass him, Paul can't find his footing, let alone his way home. Over the course of the novel, he learns again and again that the system sets people up to fail. His memory lapse hasn't made folks meaner — it's just made Paul unaccustomed to the hassle. 'It's too absurd to be a tragedy,' Westlake's Paul sighs. 'This whole place is stupid.' Ultimately, that Paul realizes it doesn't matter who he is. The daily grind dehumanizes everyone. But Johnson has bent the novel inside out and turned it into, of all things, a romance. Beyond a vague hamlet-good, urban-bad critique — a sleight of hand in which the heartland folks win out over those rapacious city dwellers — he's less interested in the outside world than he is in Paul's own emotional landscape. Can a kinder society raise a man who deserves love? We get hints that Paul's previous self was a louse, but Holland's smile is so soft that it's hard to believe he was ever a nasty, selfish jerk. His version of the character can't even grow a personality. It's confounding that Johnson ignores the book's brutal existentialism. But it's equally fascinating that other parts of the story get their hooks in him. A novel — any piece of art, really — functions like a dream. You grab onto the bits that resonate. It's why people can leave the same movie with totally different interpretations. They might disagree, yet that doesn't make either of them wrong. Willfully obtuse, perhaps, but that applies more to bad-faith viewers trying to get their hot takes to go viral. Perhaps Johnson's own decade-long struggle to make 'The Actor,' only his second film, inspired him to dwell on the value Paul puts on being an artist. Actors are special, this Paul believes; he can hear it in a nurse's excited trill when she reveals to him his past job. 'I was — I am — an actor,' Paul tells Edna on their first date, even though he couldn't quote a line of Shakespeare. As a counterpoint, when Paul makes the same boast to the hiring manager at the local tannery, she circles 'unskilled labor.' Paul clings to his old status — it puffs him up. But I suspect that Johnson appreciates the gulf between the glamorous idea of working in the arts and the bitter reality of intermittent paychecks. And the type of acting Paul has done — stage shows, live soap operas — evaporates as soon as his work is over. Art is nowhere near as permanent as, say, the penny loafers Paul helps make at the factory. Art may not even be a sturdy enough foundation on which to build a life. Even though 'The Actor' sticks to the misty past, its anxieties are crystal clear in the present.
