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Yahoo
7 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘90s Actress From Iconic Movie Series, 66, Looks Ageless During Rare Public Appearance
'90s Actress From Iconic Movie Series, 66, Looks Ageless During Rare Public Appearance originally appeared on Parade. Veteran actress Wendy Makkena made a radiant appearance at the Sunderland Shorts Film Festival last month, standing out at the premiere of her latest project. Dressed with effortless style and confidence in a black outfit with a wide-brimmed cream-colored hat, the Sister Act star, 66, captivated festival-goers and photographers alike with her ageless appearance—even moreso due to the rarity of the public outing. At the film festival—an acclaimed BIFA-qualifying event marking its 10th anniversary—Whispers of Freedom—in which she plays Karin Gueffroy—had its world premiere on May 16, with Makkena among the key cast present. 🎬SIGN UP for Parade's Daily newsletter to get the latest pop culture news & celebrity interviews delivered right to your inbox🎬 Makkena first captured audiences' hearts in the 1992 smash hit Sister Act, playing Sister Mary Robert, the soulful voice shy nun who was a notable character in what became one of the most beloved comedy-musicals of the era. She reprised the role in Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit a few years later and remains best known for those performances. Beyond the beloved film series starring , Makkena has amassed an impressive filmography, including roles like Jackie Framm, the mother of the basketball-playing dog star, in the fan-favorite Air Bud (1997) film series, Camp Nowhere (1994), State of Play (2009), Rabbit Hole (2010), and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019), showcasing her range from family films to intense dramas. She's also featured in numerous TV roles, including a standout arc in The Mob Doctor, earning her status as a respected figure on both the small and big screens. Next: '90s Actress From Iconic Movie Series, 66, Looks Ageless During Rare Public Appearance first appeared on Parade on Jun 23, 2025 This story was originally reported by Parade on Jun 23, 2025, where it first appeared.
ABC News
12 hours ago
- Entertainment
- ABC News
Why Death Stranding 2 is set in Australia and other things we learned speaking with Hideo Kojima
It's not every day you get to meet one of the most visionary storytellers in gaming — let alone sit across from him in a Sydney boardroom. But that's exactly what happened when I joined a small group of journalists to speak with Hideo Kojima, the legendary creator of Metal Gear Solid and Death Stranding . A genre-defying, post-apocalyptic epic about connection and isolation, Death Stranding cemented Kojima's reputation as gaming's great auteur. He was in town for the Sydney Film Festival, where he shared the stage with filmmaker George Miller ( Mad Max ) in a dream pairing of cinematic minds. With Death Stranding 2: On the Beach on the horizon, Kojima opened up about sequels, storytelling, and why Australia is the perfect place to end the world. Sam Bridges (Norman Reedus) treks across Australia in Death Stranding 2: On The Beach ( Supplies ) On why Death Stranding 2 is set in Australia Hideo Kojima: Death Stranding was based in North America, and we kind of recreated it from east to west — like going after gold back in those days. So I was thinking for DS2 , "What's a good continent that's similar to DS1 ?" Eurasia is too big. Africa might be too long. So I thought Australia would be a perfect fit. This is a game where Sam walks — he traverses. So you need a lot of things: great environments, desert, mountains. Animals as well. It's almost like a very specific area in the world that has its own animals, plants, species. That's another reason. But the real reason I selected Australia is this: usually when I decide on a location, I go location scouting. I go there to scan, or to do interviews-things like that. Last time, it was Iceland. It was great-but it was a little cold. So this time I thought, let's make it a little warmer-Australia. But then, no. The pandemic happened. On what inspired Death Stranding 2 Kojima: Sometimes I see movies and get ideas. But usually, it's just talking to people. Eating, walking, or maybe when I'm in the bath-I kind of come up with these ideas. It's almost like a disease, I call it, you know? "I'm imagining things all the time. Even when I'm talking with my family, in my head I'm in a totally different world." So even when I travel, I'm not working-but in my head, I'm always thinking about this stuff. When I talk to George Miller, he understands, because he has the same disease. He says, "I've been like this since I was a child — I've been imagining." A teacher once told George, "If you didn't imagine so much, your grades would go up." He told me that story. And I think for me, it's the same. I'm imagining things. I'm happy to be in this job because I'm free to imagine whatever I want. On the biggest difference between Death Stranding 1 and 2 Kojima: DS1 was a delivery game. It was the very first game of its kind. So I wanted players to understand it. Now people know this is a game about delivery, so I thought for DS2 , I would add more rhythm. More weapons and things you can use — and with that combination, you can now decide: do you battle, go stealth, or avoid? It's more like you have this rhythm, this beat, where you have the choice to change and decide. It's still a delivery game, but you can fight if you want. "So the recommendation is: don't go back to DS1 after you play DS2. You should play DS1, then go straight into DS2." On the hazards of over-connectivity and digital overload Kojima: During the pandemic, everyone got so isolated in real life. It was almost like Death Stranding . The world of Death Stranding came out three months before the pandemic. But we had the internet. It wasn't like the Spanish Flu — they didn't have that. During our pandemic, we could order things online. We could work online. We could connect via Zoom. Even concerts — they did live concerts on the internet. Society kind of shifted to being very digital. Even Kojima Productions had to do that-everyone was working remotely. But I felt that during the pandemic, the direction of the world was heading further and further into digital. And I thought-is that really good? When we were animals, we were born in the ocean. In the water. But we came out, moved to land, and became human. So I think everything on the internet — too much of it-is not healthy. Especially in the digital society we have today. George Miller provides a motion capture performance for Death Stranding 2's Tarman On casting famous filmmakers in his games Kojima: Okay, I'll tell you the truth. It's all people I like. "I want to work with people I like-people I respect, and who respect me back." Like, for instance, George-he's my god. And if I work with him, I'm really happy. But if I put my god in the game, I can't escape. I have to really make him perfect in the game. I can't forfeit that once I commit. On what idea lies at the heart of Death Stranding 2 Kojima: The apes created the stick. You see it in 2001: A Space Odyssey — they become human, but the first tool was a stick. The second was a rope, to pull something you like closer to you. That stick and rope led us to civilisation. With Death Stranding , I thought: if you look at all games, they're stick games. Even though you're connected online, like a big rope, you're still fighting over everything-with a stick. So in DS1 , I wanted to make a rope game. But looking at the world, you can't really connect everything with just the rope. That's one of the themes in DS2 . In the gameplay, you have a lot of weapons-and that has meaning too, in terms of the theme. On what you should feel playing Death Stranding 2 Kojima: I want you to use what you experienced in the game in your real life. Connecting people. Rope and stick. Isolation. Not just in Death Stranding , but when you go outside, I want you to feel something in your real world. And then when you turn the game off, go outside-you realise something different. You see a road, electricity, a bridge. Like the bridge here in Sydney. Someone made that. Someone who created that bridge might have passed away years ago, but you're connected to them. On what makes a great sequel Kojima: You know Ridley Scott's Alien ? It was so scary because you don't see the alien until the very end. Everyone wanted to buy that figure. But then, once you have that figure, it's not scary anymore. Same in Death Stranding . You had the handprints, the BTs come out-that was scary because you didn't know what was happening. But now you do know. So when you do a sequel, it's not scary anymore. "But with Aliens — James Cameron was so smart. He turned the movie from horror into action." DS2 is not 100% action, but it's more like that. You already know what Death Stranding is. So topping that — creating surprise in a world people already know — that was the biggest challenge in making the sequel. Death Stranding 2: On The Beach asks whetner connection is really worth it in a psot-pandemic world. On how the pandemic influenced development Kojima: DS2 is quite special because we had the pandemic-everyone experienced it. We couldn't meet face to face. I've been creating games my whole career, but DS2 was the most difficult challenge I've ever had. I know everyone went through similar things. We all experienced that — and we overcame it. So I think we're a little stronger now. I wanted to go one level higher because of that shared experience. So I created a game about connections. It got to a point where I almost gave up. But I came back. I reconnected-with myself, with this project. And that's another reason I'm doing this world tour now. I couldn't travel or meet people for the past five years. So I thought — it's about time. Angus Truskett presents Culture King, a weekly dive on all things pop culture on triple j Drive each Thursday afternoon.
Geek Vibes Nation
14 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Geek Vibes Nation
‘Charliebird' Filmmakers On Winning Best Narrative Feature And Why They Chose To Make A Film In A 1:1 Aspect Ratio
When attending a seasoned film festival like Tribeca, it's difficult for a film to truly surprise you. This isn't to suggest the many lovely indie narratives debuting at the festival don't have their merits, but with limited resources often comes limited opportunities to reinvent the wheel. However, Charliebird is an exception to that rule, if only because it is the only film across the entire festival (and likely several editions of the festival) to be presented in a 1:1 aspect ratio. Notably thinner than a standard 1.33:1 aspect ratio often seen in classic cinema but not thin enough to evoke a smartphone screen, it's a bold choice to make for your directorial debut. Yet, it came naturally for Charliebird's director, actress Libby Ewing. 'It all happened really organically,' Ewing told Geek Vibes Nation mere hours before it was announced the film won two Tribeca Festival awards, including Best U.S. Narrative Feature. 'I was really drawn to the images of Petra Collins and snapshots, frames within frames, and portraits. When Luca got on board, he suggested turning an anamorphic lens vertically.' Rather than shoot the film with a traditional widescreen lens and crop in to present the film in a thinner aspect ratio, cinematographer Luca Del Puppo took a 1.5:1 anamorphic lens and squeezed it to make for a taller, longer image. 'The idea was to not start with a spherical lens on a digital negative, which is usually a 1.78:1 sensor or a 1.5:1 cropped in, but instead apply a 1.5:1 anamorphic to a 1.5:1 sensor and extend the negative vertically,' Del Puppo says. 'It's uncropped, but you'll never know that watching it.' 'For me, it always comes back to story,' Ewing said. In Charliebird, screenwriter Samantha Smart portrays Al, a music therapist who works with terminal children in a Texas hospital. Most of her patients are very young children, but one day she is assigned to Charlie (Gabriela Ochoa Perez, who won the Tribeca Award for Best Performance in a U.S. Narrative Feature), a teenage patient who has already given up on her own life. As Al breaks down Charlie's walls and makes a true friend, Al's own trauma begins to bubble up to the surface. 'This woman is boxed in by her own design. For me, it was a no-brainer. She is not facing her past; she's immediately in the center of her life and not doing anything about it. For me, [1:1] was a no-brainer.' 'Something that was immediately important to us was that we were using the full canvas, the full digital negative,' explains Del Puppo. 'By compressing and re-expanding, it seems like you're doing needless work, but it does affect the depth of field and the size of the image…you're going to see a very restricted frame, but it's a much wider vertical than anything you're used to seeing.' This is how Del Puppo could shoot extremely intimate scenes with Smart without losing any visual information. For example, Del Puppo shot many scenes of Smart driving a truck while in the passenger's seat. This is extremely close to his subject, but the film's full format sensor allowed Del Puppo to have a broader depth of field that could capture Smart and her surroundings while still being close up. Naturally, this made for a uniquely intimate shoot. 'There was a kinship there,' said Smart, referring to the trust she had with both Ewing and Del Puppo on set. 'After every take, Libby was holding my hands with ice cubes because she knew, as an amazing actress herself, what I was going through and what I needed. Luca and our sound mixer were so delicate and tender and emotionally with me that it felt a little bit like flying…it was like I knew he was there, also like I didn't know he was there. We just knew it felt sacred, and I cannot imagine having done this film without them, with that energy and that trust.' Moments after our virtual interview, Tribeca announced Charliebird's twofold awards win, a delightful surprise for a competition slate featuring big names and seasoned veterans. Shortly after the announcement, Ewing took to Instagram. 'I have no words…just immense gratitude.' In our full interview with the trio, condensed for brevity and clarity below, they dive into the process behind making the 1:1 aspect ratio a reality, how they formed trust on set, and how Smart dug into her own experience to write a deeply personal story. – Let's cut right to the chase: this is the first time I've seen a 1:1 aspect ratio on screen. What was the conception behind it, as well as the unique challenges that come from making a film this way? Libby Ewing (director): As I was pulling my look book together, I was really drawn to the images of Petra Collins and snapshots, frames within frames, and portraits. When Luca [Del Puppo] got on board, he suggested turning an anamorphic lens vertically. Sam [Smart] was gracious enough to do some test runs with us, and we sent it to our colorist. It came back, and it was the choice that made the most sense to us. It all happened really organically. It feels like a bold idea – this is my first feature, is this like a statement I'm making? – but it was so supported by the story. For me, it always comes back to story. This woman is boxed in by her own design. She has no horizons forward. She is not facing her past; she's immediately in the center of her life and not doing anything about it. That fed into this idea that all the characters are boxed in. For me, it was a no-brainer. I know it's a really bold choice, but it didn't feel like a bold choice. Luca Del Puppo (cinematographer): Something that was immediately important to us was that we were using the full canvas, the full digital negative. The idea was to not start with a spherical lens on a digital negative, which is usually a 1.78:1 sensor or a 1.5:1 cropped-in, but instead apply a 1.5:1 anamorphic to a 1.5:1 sensor and extend the negative vertically. It's uncropped, but you'll never know that watching it. Ah! I assumed you were using a standard horizontal aspect ratio and cropping in. My interest is piqued! What did you shoot with? Del Puppo: We started with a full-frame camera, the Sony VENICE, which is a 1.5:1 native aspect ratio. It has the same aspect ratio as your dad's old Nikon that he used to take all the family photos, which comes back to something else Libby and Sam wanted. They wanted to have that feeling. Then, for the 1.5:1 anamorphic squeeze, Atlas makes these great lenses [the Orion series]. They're a new company, but they've been used on really major pictures like Anora and Everything Everywhere All at Once. They had two things. The lens is a 1.5 squeeze, so we knew we would get a one-to-one negative, and it had a great close focus, so I could get close to Sam in certain key moments. By compressing and re-expanding, it seems like you're doing needless work, but it does affect the depth of field and the size of the image so that it gets much closer to a medium format negative. You're going to see a very restricted frame, but it's a much wider vertical than anything you're used to seeing. It's a very different perspective shift. There are scenes in this movie where you are in the car with Sam, and there is so much more depth of field than if you were trying to shoot it with a typical digital close-up lens, right? Luca: Right. You're getting more depth of field vertically and less depth of field horizontally. That is amazing, thank you for that insight. Sam, you're both the star and screenwriter of Charliebird, and I love a good piece of autofiction. To the best of your ability, where exactly do you end and the story begin? Samantha Smart (screenwriter/star): Oh, that's a good question. God, it's funny, early on I was writing this film and presenting it to Libby and was like, 'I think I wanna play this character and I want you to direct it.' I always thought it would serve the story to have an outside perspective, and Libby's so brilliant and collaborative. I have such trust in her. I never once thought I would need to do more than what I did, but after a couple of years creating Al [Sam's character], I got to the point where I told Libby, 'You're gonna have to cast someone else. It's so far from me. She's bleach blonde, she's tatted up. I'm not gonna be able to do this.' I got a little bit scared, but Libby helped me find her. In a way, I think almost every character [in the film] is a triad of myself, someone else I knew in Texas, and then a third entity I can't really explain. Without wanting to sound lofty, it's all me and it's all not me. Once I found each character's voice and who they were, I just listened to them and wrote what they said, which sounds really…whatever. [laughs] I don't know another way to write. There's a very meta thing that happens as you watch the movie. You meet Al, and the first thing you learn about her is that she is forced to confront the most emotionally devastating things, and she is compartmentalizing that in order to do the job. Then, the audience is also forced to engage with that same material, and then they have to compartmentalize it in order to continue watching the movie. I'm curious if you had to confront that same compartmentalization. Smart: I had the idea [for the film] and then unfortunately went through some stuff that enabled me to write it, some personal loss that is very different from Al's. I've been leaving Texas my whole adult life, but when I began writing, I found myself right back where I started. The backstory of Al as a kid – even though we went with a more ambiguous choice – that's very much based on things that I experienced growing up, and I realized I needed to deal with it on the page. I want to go back to the camera work and the close focus. Sam, I can imagine this was a unique shooting experience given the intimacy of both the material and the camera. How did you approach your relationship to the camera on set? Samantha: It started with the trust between me and Libby. I've worked with her before. We're very close, and I knew that, with anything I was gonna try, she would hold me up, build me up, and direct me in the right way. Then, Luca and I had just filmed a short about a year before, so we had a dialogue and a comfort between us. The three of us are just film nerds, photography nerds. There was a kinship there. On day three, we were starting with the scene where Al is at home in a drunken state. That was obviously very difficult for many reasons, but Libby had given me choreography. After every take, Libby was holding my hands with ice cubes because she knew, as an amazing actress herself, what I was going through and what I needed. Luca and our sound mixer were so delicate and tender and emotionally with me that it felt a little bit like flying. I don't know what Luca was doing with his body to catch me, but it was like I knew he was there, also like I didn't know he was there. We just knew it felt sacred, and I cannot imagine having done this film without them, with that energy and that trust, because it allowed me to not have to think. From my perspective as a viewer, it seems like that scene was the most challenging scene to shoot, but maybe I'm wrong, Libby? Ewing: It wasn't in the most surprising way. There are always the scenes that you're nervous about, and the way that we built our schedule, having the crew and Sam do all of that early on, was nerve-wracking. But I have to say that day was really special because everyone was just so locked in, and everyone respected what was happening. The way that Sam brought herself to the role changed the alchemy of our set. The whole crew was like, 'Oh, I get it. I know what we're making.' Something happened that night where that trust was built, and then we led with that. When we brought in our other actors, Luca, Sam, and I had a real shorthand. Luca––I don't know what he is, he's not of this earth. I felt like he was connected to my brain all the time. Smart: Libby would, like, telepathically tell us to do something, and we would do it. Del Puppo: It's not every day that you get to work with two people who have what Libby and Sam have, and you recognize it pretty quickly. We didn't have tremendous resources on this film, but what Libby did so brilliantly as a director was find days ahead of time where we could shoot, build them into the schedule, and be super specific about all the shots so that then when Sam and I were alone together in the truck, for example, we knew what we were doing. One of the best experiences of my life was shooting the last scene. What made it holy was Libby setting us up, and Sam and I being in the moment. Luca, from a DP's perspective, is there a methodology to making sure you're capturing information when you're dealing with such a sensitive depth of field? Del Puppo: Look, the depth of field is tiny. We're at minimum focus, and I'm pulling focus and just trying to stay with Sam because what she's doing is amazing, and you can see it. There's also a two-stop iris pull, so you're doing two things with your fingers. You spend your whole life getting technical, so then what, so then you can be proud of yourself? You have to throw all that stuff away. I get really impatient with DP's saying things like, 'My frame, my light.' That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. I don't have patience for that. You try it and you get it and if you don't get it, then you feel like shit because Sam and Libby just did something that can't be replicated, so just do it. Smart: For the final scene, there was a lot of pressure. We had five minutes of light. By the time we were rounding the street to be able to go for it, our safety car had an issue. We lost contact on our walkie-talkie. Luca's in there holding the entire camera setup by himself. I was just ready and, this sounds so 'woo,' but we could feel Libby being like, 'Just fucking go.' So, I just started driving, and we got it. I don't know how we did it. It was a really special day. Ewing: Luca came back to our little home base in this vacant parking lot and showed me the playback, and I burst into tears. It was just perfect. All that trust built to that 15-minute shot, and it was just stunning. Del Puppo: The camera's 30 pounds, we're on an anamorphic lens. We don't have a three-person camera team. We shot the whole thing handheld without an easy rig. As a DP, at a certain point, you ask yourself, 'Is this big black easy rig thing going to distract from the film? If it is, then just hold the camera.' I know that it sounds banal, but some of these decisions were that simple. Knowing that you had that 30 pound set up shooting handheld with no rig is fucking crazy. Del Puppo: Well, I'm short and wide, so it works out. Ewing: He's a beast. He just needed a second dinner every night. You just gotta keep him fed and fueled. It's like Michael Phelps loading up carbs before a big swim. Ewing: That's right. Luca: Sam brought us to a great burger place on the first night. It really was a family affair, and we just kept going back there for more.
BBC News
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- BBC News
Isle of Man film festival to celebrate Pride month
An Isle of Man film festival is set to celebrate Pride Pride on Screen series will show a series of feature-length movies of personal stories at the town hall in Port St Mary over three nights from short film No Man Is An Island, which explores the events leading up to the decriminalisation of homosexuality on the island in 1992, will also be shown before each Michelle Haywood said the festival was a chance to celebrate the occasion and acknowledge the challenges still faced by the LGBTQ+ community. The 2014 film Pride will be shown on Friday, telling the story a group of gay activists who raised money to help families affected by the British miners' strike in 1984. 'Still challenges' On Saturday, viewers can watch Blue Jean. The 2022 drama focusses on a PE teacher at a secondary school in Newcastle as Section 28, which forbid the "promotion" of homosexuality in schools, was implemented in the final movie, to be shown on Sunday, is Call Me by Your Name. It follows the romantic relationship between 17-year-old Elio and Oliver, a 24-year-old assistant to Elio's archaeology professor Haywood said: "The festival says just because there's not a big parade doesn't mean that we're not alive to the fact that there are still challenges within our society for people depending on who they chose to love."Despite England decriminalising homosexuality in 1967, the Isle of Man did not follow suit until Craine, director of No Man is an Island, said the reaction from Manx audiences had "been really humbling".He said: "Although it feels it's something that happened 30 years ago and times have changed for the better, it still feels super relevant to today."It's important that the Manx viewers get to see it in a cinema because it's a story about us, it's our people, and our community." Read more stories from the Isle of Man on the BBC, watch BBC North West Tonight on BBC iPlayer and follow BBC Isle of Man on Facebook and X.
Japan Times
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Japan Times
‘Renoir': An impressionistic portrait of grief and girlhood
Screened in the main competition at this year's Cannes Film Festival, Chie Hayakawa's second feature, 'Renoir,' is rather unlike her first, 2022's 'Plan 75,' which also premiered at Cannes and became a favorite on the festival circuit. In contrast to the earlier film's clear concept — the elderly are encouraged to sign up for state-sponsored euthanasia in a near-future Japan — the movingly impressionistic 'Renoir' is a loosely plotted journey through the life and mind (including the vivid dreams) of an 11-year-old girl (talented newcomer Yui Suzuki) as her father succumbs to terminal cancer. In scripting and directing 'Renoir,' Hayakawa drew on memories of her own father's death from cancer when she was her protagonist's age and the film feels deeply rooted in the characters' pasts and intensely alive to their present moment. One parallel is the 1993 Shinji Somai masterpiece 'Moving,' which also features a strong-willed girl (Tomoko Tabata) dealing with a family crisis — in her case, her parents' divorce. Similar to Somai and Hirokazu Kore-eda, another master director famed for his work with young actors (see Suzu Hirose in his 2015 'Our Little Sister' for a pertinent example), Hayakawa draws out a performance from Suzuki that is true to her character's stubbornly individual nature while feeling natural and unforced. And like Tabata, who later went on to a flourishing career, Suzuki is a riveting on-screen presence, even when her character, Fuki, is silently observing the adults around her with a hard-to-read expression and distanced air. This attitude may impress as coldness, as if she hardly cares whether her father Keiji (Lily Franky), who looks frail and elderly, lives or dies. But the blank looks, we come to understand, are a sort of coping mechanism, as is Fuki's interest in psychic and mystic powers, from mind reading to magic spells (with failures by her and others serving as moments of mild comic relief). Although her mother, Utako (Hikari Ishida), is a busy career woman who seems to regard Keiji's illness and Fuki's presence as burdens, when we catch glimpses of earlier, happier times, we realize that Utako is not an ogre. Instead, she's trying to function in the face of overwhelming stress and, as Ishida's heartfelt performance reveals, deserves sympathy. The story, which unfolds in the summer of 1987, when Japan's bubble economy was at its height and digital distractions were nowhere to be found, is more a succession of incidents than a tightly woven narrative, but its development is not scattershot. Rather, its portrait of Fuki and her parents is cumulative in its power. There is also an undeniable sadness and darkness to it: Fuki becomes close to a classmate — a tall girl who shares her fascination with the supernatural — but their friendship does not last. Utako, on company orders, joins a therapy group, but the understanding leader turns out to have ulterior motives. Keiji tries to maintain his ties to his company from his sick bed, but his colleagues view him as a man of the past. 'Renoir,' however, does not descend to miserabilist drama. Like an 1880 painting by the title artist — a portrait of a girl whose cheap reproduction becomes Fuki's prized possession — it also glows with a youthful beauty and light. And we eventually see a smile from our protagonist that is not in a dream. Death hurts, but her life continues — and hope endures.
