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    Celine Song’s New Rom-Com ‘Materialists’ Takes a Deep Look at Love and Value

    In her 20s, long before she wrote and directed the Oscar-nominated “Past Lives,” Celine Song spent six months working as a matchmaker in New York. By day, she’d meet with single women rattling off requirements for a potential mate, from appearance and height to income. By night, over beers with her artist friends, she couldn’t help but notice a disconnect: Many of her favorite people would be instantly rejected based on those criteria.“I’d be like, ‘You guys would be not good mates for any of my clients,’” she said. “I spent all day listening to these women describe them as worthless people they do not want to meet, even though I ascribe so much worth to them because they are creative and brilliant and amazing.”That tension lies at the heart of Song’s new rom-com, “Materialists,” which stars Dakota Johnson as Lucy, a New York City matchmaker with an enviable track record of steering single women toward successful men. But when Lucy meets the handsome and rich Harry (Pedro Pascal), who’d prefer to woo Lucy instead of her clients, she must decide if the material things he can offer are more valuable than the deeper connection she feels with John (Chris Evans), her broke ex-boyfriend.Before making movies, Song worked as a matchmaker. Ryan Pfluger for The New York TimesSong wrote the screenplay for “Materialists” in 2022 as she awaited the release of “Past Lives,” about a South Korean immigrant reunited with the childhood friend who still carries a torch for her. When I met Song last month over drinks at a West Hollywood hotel, she spoke candidly about love and longing as a creative through line in her work.“When I talk to people who are really, really smart, who seem to know everything, if you start asking them about their romantic life, everything falls apart,” she said. “They’ll just admit that they don’t know things about love, or they’ll be like, ‘I don’t know, she makes me feel like a kid.’ They’ll say things that are not becoming of the put-together, intelligent people they are, because love is a mystery.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Remembering Sly Stone and Brian Wilson

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Amazon Music | YouTubeThis week, pop music lost a pair of world builders: Sly Stone, who created visionary psychedelic rock, soul and pop that helped integrate popular music and captured harsh social realities under the guise of big-tent cheer; and Brian Wilson, the macher of the Beach Boys, whose ear for elevated harmony helped create some of the defining sounds of the 1960s. Both men were 82.Wilson and Stone excelled in a moment in which the country was shaking off the staidness of the 1950s. Wilson’s work with the Beach Boys initially took on themes of American freedom before evolving into a more complex outfit on “Pet Sounds.” After that album, Wilson descended into mental instability, and remained largely out of view for decades. Stone had his commercial peak in the early 1970s with up-tempo funk numbers riven deep with social meaning. But he, too, lost his grip on his career, and was heard from only intermittently in subsequent years.On this week’s Popcast, a conversation about Stone’s improvisational genius, how he channeled his social moment through music, and what it took to turn the life stories of Stone and Wilson into books and film.Guests:Ben Greenman, a longtime journalist who collaborated with Stone on “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin): A Memoir” and Wilson on “I Am Brian Wilson”Joseph Patel, a producer of the documentary “Sly Lives! (aka the Burden of Black Genius)”Vernon Reid, a rock musician who was the founder of Living Colour and a co-founder of the Black Rock CoalitionConnect With Popcast. Become a part of the Popcast community: Join the show’s Facebook group and Discord channel. We want to hear from you! Tune in, and tell us what you think at popcast@nytimes.com. Follow our host, Jon Caramanica, on Twitter: @joncaramanica.Unlock full access to New York Times podcasts and explore everything from politics to pop culture. Subscribe today at nytimes.com/podcasts or on Apple Podcasts and Spotify. More

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    ‘Prime Minister’ Examines a New Zealand Leader and a Global Issue

    The film is a memoir of sorts for Jacinda Ardern, who governed at a time of multiple disasters. But it was misinformation that proved hardest to cope with.When she became prime minister of New Zealand in 2017, Jacinda Ardern was the world’s youngest female head of state, at 37. From the start, she was playing on hard mode. After giving birth to a daughter not quite eight months later, she led her country through a series of generational catastrophes — shootings at two mosques in Christchurch, a deadly volcanic eruption, the Covid-19 pandemic — all while pushing a hefty set of progressive reforms through the legislature and getting re-elected, too.The new documentary “Prime Minister” (in theaters) mostly covers this tumultuous period, showing how Ardern, the Labour Party leader at the time, navigated her choices while also giving space to her misgivings. But it’s not a biopic or a puff piece. It’s more of a memoir: a bigger story told through the events of one person’s life. That tale goes far beyond Ardern, even beyond New Zealand.The directors Lindsay Utz and Michelle Walshe drew on a variety of sources. There’s footage from 2024, with Ardern teaching as a fellow at Harvard and working on her new book, “A Different Kind of Power.” But that’s just the framing device. The bulk of “Prime Minister” leans on video that her husband, Clarke Gayford, shot during Ardern’s time in office, including intimate glimpses of her home life and private thoughts, as well as audio interviews that haven’t been previously released.The result can be uncommonly frank. Ardern talks about reluctant governing and impostor syndrome. Her political journey, she says, has been a battle between two parts of herself, “the one that says that you can’t and the one that says that you have to.” She speaks her mind but is also in tune with her emotions. You can hear her voice crack when she contemplates the grieving families of the people slain in the Christchurch massacre, or considers the implications of pandemic lockdown policies on children who depend on school for food and women who will face domestic violence in isolation.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Inside the Jury Room at the Weinstein Trial, Rancor and Recrimination

    As the panelists deliberated over whether the former Hollywood mogul should be convicted of sex crimes for a second time in Manhattan, accusations began to fly.Inside the jury room at the second New York sex crime trial of Harvey Weinstein, things were getting tense.The 12 jurors had already acquitted the former Hollywood mogul on one felony sex crime charge, and they had begun to deliberate on a second when the discussions suddenly turned pointed, and personal.One juror, who had been calm and had even prayed with the others, abruptly began accusing another of having been “bought out” by Mr. Weinstein or his lawyers.The moment, which occurred on the second day of deliberations in a case that was brought by the Manhattan district attorney’s office after its earlier sex crime conviction against Mr. Weinstein was overturned, foreshadowed the rancor and dysfunction that would ultimately consume the panel.Although it ultimately voted to convict him of the second felony sex crime, it reached no decision on the third charge in the case, deadlocking on Thursday over whether Mr. Weinstein raped an aspiring actress in a hotel room in 2013.This account of what occurred in the jury room is based on interviews with several jurors, particularly one panelist who came forward twice to voice concerns to the judge about the behavior of his fellow jurors.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Brian Wilson and Beach Boys’ Style Showed What California Living Looked Like

    In Pendleton shirts and khakis, Mr. Wilson and the Beach Boys showed the world what easy Southern California living looked like.The band name was a fluke. Looking to cash in on the burgeoning surf culture in the United States, the record executive who first brought Brian Wilson, Dennis Wilson, Carl Wilson, Mike Love and Al Jardine together on the obscure Candix Records label in Southern California wanted to call the assembled musicians “The Surfers.’’But another group, as it happened, had already claimed the name. And then there was an additional problem: only one of the band members, Dennis Wilson, actively surfed.And so, as Brian Wilson — the architect of the band’s sound and image, whose death, at 82, was announced by his family on Wednesday — tweeted back in 2018, the promoter Russ Regan “changed our name to the Beach Boys.” He added that the group members themselves found out only after they saw their first records pressed.Originally, the band had another name. It was one that speaks not only to the aural backdrop the Beach Boys provided for generations but also to their enduring influence on global style. As teenagers in the late 1950s and early ’60s, the band had styled itself the Pendletones. It was a homage to what was then, and in some ways still is, an unofficial uniform of Southern California surfers: swim trunks or notch pocket khakis or white jeans, and a blazing white, ringspun cotton T-shirt worn under a sturdy woolen overshirt.The shirts the Pendletones wore were produced by the family-owned company, Pendleton Woolen Mills of Portland, Ore., and had been in production since 1924. The shirts were embraced by surfers for their over-the-top durability and the easy way they bridged the intersection between work and leisure wear. The blue and gray block plaid, which Pendleton would later rename as the “Original Surf Plaid,’’ was worn by every member of the Beach Boys on the cover of their debut album, “Surfin’ Safari.” It was a look that, novel then, has since been quoted in some form by men’s wear designers from Hedi Slimane to Eli Russell Linnetz and Ralph Lauren.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Rigmor Newman, Behind-the-Scenes Fixture of the Jazz World, Dies at 86

    She was a concert promoter, a nightclub impresario and the producer of an award-winning 1992 film about the Nicholas Brothers dance duo.Rigmor Newman, who began her career in Sweden as a singer and beauty queen and went on to become a fixture in the U.S. jazz world as a concert and film producer as well as a talent manager, died on April 26 in the Bronx. She was 86.Her daughter, Annie Newman, said she died in a hospital from complications of Parkinson’s disease. Her death was not widely reported at the time.Ms. Newman, who sang at the Nobel Prize banquet in Stockholm in 1957, arrived in New York in the early 1960s after marrying Joe Newman, a standout trumpeter in the Count Basie and Lionel Hampton orchestras.She later managed the Nicholas Brothers, a gravity-defying dance duo that dazzled cinema audiences starting in the late 1930s, and became heroes to many Black Americans. Harold Nicholas of the Nicholas Brothers became her second husband.Among her many professional incarnations, Ms. Newman served as the executive director of Jazz Interactions, a nonprofit organization promoting jazz throughout the New York metropolitan area, which Joe Newman helped found in the early 1960s.Ms. Newman appeared with the trumpeter Joe Newman, whom she married, on the cover of his 1960 album “Counting Five in Sweden.” Given the racial climate of the day, the image was a symbolic triumph.World Pacific RecordsWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    James Lowe, Rock Outsider With the Electric Prunes, Dies at 82

    His band’s output ranged from the 1966 psychedelic hit “I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night)” to what he called a “Catholic Mass done in rock veneer.”James Lowe, the frontman of the 1960s rock band the Electric Prunes, whose “free-form garage-rock” approach, as he called it, yielded the swirling psychedelic hit “I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night),” died on May 22 in Santa Barbara, Calif. He was 82.His daughter Lisa Lowe said he died in a hospital of cardiac arrest.The Electric Prunes arrived on the rock scene with a jolt: a menacing electric buzz that sounded like an oncoming swarm of deadly hornets.The sound, which opened “I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night),” was the result of a playback error on a tape of the guitarist Ken Williams noodling with a fuzz box and a guitar tremolo bar. It was so raw and powerful that Mr. Lowe argued to keep it. The track would come to be hailed as a cornerstone of garage psychedelia.With its trippy title and astral sound, “Too Much to Dream” was widely interpreted as a drug song, but its lyrics actually detailed the woe of an abandoned lover. Then again, the Electric Prunes, who swung from paisley pop to proto-punk to, yes, religious hymns sung in Latin, were always difficult to pin down.“We were always outsiders,” Mr. Lowe recalled in a 2007 interview with Mojo, the British rock magazine. “We weren’t hip enough to be crazy, drugged-out characters.” In addition, he said: “The music was too eclectic. It sounds like 10 different bands on those records.”Despite its maximalist sensibility, the band, which emerged from the Woodland Hills neighborhood of Los Angeles, scored two early hits.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More