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    Watch Zoe Saldaña Confront Corrupt Politicians in ‘Emilia Pérez’

    The director Jacques Audiard narrates the star’s passionate musical performance from the film.In “Anatomy of a Scene,” we ask directors to reveal the secrets that go into making key scenes in their movies. See new episodes in the series on Fridays. You can also watch our collection of more than 150 videos on YouTube and subscribe to our YouTube channel.The actress Zoe Saldaña dons a red suit and fiercely works the room in this high-intensity sequence from the musical drama “Emilia Pérez.”Saldaña’s character, Rita, a lawyer in Mexico City, attends a gala with politicians while the title character Emilia (Karla Sofía Gascón) delivers a speech. This dreamlike sequence has Rita going table to table to confront attendees about their scandals, misdeeds and corruption as she sings the song “El Mal.” Emilia contributes verses from a lectern.The film’s French director, Jacques Audiard, narrates the sequence, discussing the rapid tempo of the song (they sped it up because Saldaña’s singing and dancing skills could meet the challenge), as well as working with nonprofessionals on intricate choreography (by Damien Jalet).Sign up for the Movies Update newsletter and get a roundup of reviews, news, Critics’ Picks and more. More

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    The 25th Latin Grammys Showed Their Age

    While Latin music looks ahead, its biggest awards show, broadcast live from Miami on Thursday night, looked back.The 25th annual Latin Grammy Awards, broadcast live on Univision from the Kaseya Center in Miami on Thursday night, consciously looked backward. Frequent winners collected more top awards. Clips from past shows bracketed live shots. There were fervent tributes to departed superstars and nods to musical dynasties.In an era when many Latin musicians are experimenting and gleefully warping genre boundaries, the Latin Grammys flaunted the familiar. Perhaps that’s inevitable for an institution marking a milestone. But that earnestness cut back on the old Latin Grammy carnival spirit. The show still had some visual flair — particularly in the surreal, asymmetrical dresses worn by women who appeared as presenters and attendees. But its music held back.The Dominican songwriter Juan Luis Guerra and his group 4.40 won awards for album of the year for “Radio Güira,” a six-song EP, and record of the year for the single “Mambo 23.” “Radio Güira” also won the award for bachata/merengue album and “Mambo 23” for tropical song. Guerra has won 28 Latin Grammys, dating back to two at the first event in 2000.Jorge Drexler, who won song of the year on Thursday night, now has 15 Latin Grammys.Zak Bennett/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesThe Uruguayan songwriter Jorge Drexler’s “Derrumbe” (“Collapse”) — a brief, poetic ballad with turbulent studio undercurrents — was named song of the year. It also tied with Kany García’s “García” for cantautor (singer-songwriter) song. Drexler now has 15 Latin Grammys.The Latin Grammy broadcast, like the Grammy Awards show, focuses on performances, not presentations. Only nine of the 58 Latin Grammy categories received awards on the broadcast; the others were presented earlier Thursday afternoon on a webcast. Edgar Barrera was named both songwriter and producer of the year, and the Argentine songwriter Nathy Peluso won three awards. The Portuguese-language categories included two awards for the Brazilian songwriter Jota.Pê and a third for the engineers of his album “Se o Meu Peito Fosse o Mundo” (“If My Chest Were the World”).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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    Review: The Philharmonic Gives a Master Class in Programming

    The composer John Adams led the New York Philharmonic in a program of contemporary works that didn’t make a big deal of contemporary music.For a master class in orchestral programming, look to this week’s concerts at the New York Philharmonic.Blink, though, and you might miss them. The program, while the best-crafted of the season so far, opened on Thursday night at David Geffen Hall and repeats only once, on Saturday. Led by John Adams, our greatest living American composer, in his occasional capacity as a conductor, it is a rarity for this orchestra: an evening billed as ordinary yet featuring mostly contemporary work, with the sole “classic” just eight decades old.You could see the concert as parallel halves, each with a brief, spare 20th-century work (Arvo Pärt’s “Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten” and Aaron Copland’s “Quiet City”) followed by a hefty modern portrait of California (Gabriella Smith’s new cello concerto, “Lost Coast,” and Adams’s “City Noir”).On a superficial level, you could also call it an evening of contemporary music. Of the four composers, three are alive: Adams, Pärt and the young, brilliant Smith. But even that doesn’t seem fitting for works that nod to centuries-old chant music and film noir.Regardless, these pieces have been assembled, as well as conducted, with thoughtfulness and care. And as an audience member, all you need to do is sit back and enjoy. This is contemporary sound to dispel clichéd fears of abrasive modernism while never cheaply pandering to mass appeal. It’s just fundamentally good music.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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    Sophie Straat Fights Gentrification With Folk Music

    Sophie Straat is reviving a style of music once popular in the working-class bars of Amsterdam to protest an increasingly expensive and homogenized city.On a recent Saturday night, the Dutch singer Sophie Straat took the stage before a raucous crowd at Garage Noord, a sweaty Amsterdam club. “Tonight is about a lot of things, but it’s especially about gentrification,” she said as she launched into “Groen Amsterdam” (“Green Amsterdam”) her ironic song about being priced out of the city.The crowd — largely female, young and Dutch-speaking — danced as the singer, dressed in a leather skirt bearing the words “no fun,” sang about the expensive cargo bikes that have become a fixture of Amsterdam’s increasingly wealthy central neighborhoods. “You watch how I took over the city,” Straat sang in Dutch, adopting the persona of a gentrifying newcomer. “It’s not my fault the bakery is closing.”Straat, 30, has gained a following in the Netherlands in recent years for modernizing a genre of folk music known as smartlap, with punk and pop sounds and lyrics about inequality and gentrification. It has made her a voice for a generation of young Amsterdammers fed up with a city they see as increasingly expensive and homogenized.“I was attracted to her music because it was in Dutch, then I realized it was about not being able to find a place to live — which is exactly what’s happening to me,” said Zoë Schaap, 35, a bartender attending the concert. “The music sounds old-fashioned, but it has a real vibe about what is going on right now.”Straat performing at Garage Noord in Amsterdam.Melissa Schriek for The New York TimesWe 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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    Jacques Audiard on ‘Emilia Pérez’ and Learning to Make a Musical

    For the filmmaker Jacques Audiard, creating a movie musical meant learning the genre conventions from scratch.The French filmmaker Jacques Audiard is known for hard-hitting crime dramas with incisive social commentary. He doesn’t often enjoy musicals and doesn’t speak Spanish. Yet his latest work, the offbeat “Emilia Pérez,” which began streaming Wednesday on Netflix, is a Spanish-language musical set amid Mexico’s drug wars.He lifted his protagonist from the pages of Boris Razon’s 2018 novel, “Écoute,” about our hyperconnected, perpetually online world. One chapter features a ruthless Mexican cartel boss seeking a gender transition who hires a lawyer to help with the logistics.For the titular role, Audiard, 72, cast the Spanish actress Karla Sofía Gascón (a trans woman herself), and changed the attorney in the book from a man to a woman played by Zoe Saldaña. To write the movie’s many tracks, the director enlisted the singer Camille Dalmais and the composer Clément Ducol.Shot almost entirely on soundstages in Paris, the film debuted in May at the Cannes Film Festival to mostly positive reactions that praised the film for its way of “testing the limits of character sympathy as well as shifting tones and moods,” as The Times’s chief critic, Manohla Dargis put it, though some reviewers expressed reservations about the portrayal of Emilia Pérez, herself. In the end, the film’s four stars — Gascón, Saldaña, Selena Gomez and Adriana Paz — shared the best actress award, while the film itself won the jury prize (essentially third place).Speaking through an interpreter during a recent video interview while in the United States, Audiard explained how he came to try his hand at musicals with this timely subject.These are edited excerpts from the conversation.Karla Sofía Gascón as the title character. Audiard said he had thought about making a musical and knew immediately that the “Emilia Pérez” story was the right subject for the form.Page 114/Why Not Productions, Pathé Films and France 2 Cinéma
    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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    Allee Willis Documentary Sheds Light on Songwriter for Earth, Wind & Fire and ‘Friends’

    ‘The World According to Allee Willis’ shines a light on a musical artist whose creative spirit wasn’t limited to one genre or even to music.“I’m the world’s best-kept secret,” Allee Willis says at the start of a new documentary about her. Willis, a songwriter and artist, is being hyperbolic, but only a little: Unless you’re a music trivia hound, Willis’s remarkable career may have escaped your notice.I, for one, didn’t know until I watched “The World According to Allee Willis” (directed by Alexis Manya Spraic and in theaters starting Friday) that the same woman was a co-writer of Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September,” the Pointer Sisters’ “Neutron Dance” and the Rembrandts’ “I’ll Be There for You,” better known as the “Friends” theme song. She wrote dozens more hits, too — sometimes lyrics, sometimes music — and occasionally produced them as well. She even contributed music and lyrics to the Broadway version of “The Color Purple.”It’s unfair but axiomatic that the most influential people are often the ones who fly under the radar, and that’s Willis, who died in 2019 at 72. Spraic’s approach is two-pronged. There are interviews with Willis’s many friends and collaborators, so many that I couldn’t jot them all down, but here are just a few: Lily Tomlin, Pamela Adlon, Mark Mothersbaugh of Devo, the comedian Bruce Vilanch, the singer-songwriter Brenda Russell and Paul Reubens, a.k.a. Pee-wee Herman, one of Willis’s closest friends.Somewhat unexpectedly, the mogul Mark Cuban appears a lot in the film, speaking warmly and earnestly of Willis’s expansive imagination. She spent much of the 1990s, in the still-nascent days of the internet, developing a collaborative social network and story-driven interactive platform called Willisville, and Cuban was her business partner.A lot of this was captured on video by Willis, who turned on a camera as a girl in Detroit in the 1950s and filmed constantly throughout her life. That is the other prong of Spraic’s film: There is a lot of Willis’s footage, which fills in details of her life, the ups along with the downs.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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    Kim Deal Is Ready to Go Solo. It Just Took 4 Decades.

    In her pink-tiled bathroom with a sky-blue tub, Kim Deal gripped a wad of cables in one hand and squatted to peer down a laundry chute.She bought this modest Dayton, Ohio, house in 1990 when she was in two of the defining bands of the alternative era — Pixies and the Breeders — and turned its basement into a laboratory of rock. She eventually added recording gear to the main bedroom, and was demonstrating how she’d threaded its wiring up to the second floor.“There’s a snake down there that has many inputs,” she explained, then dashed up a flight of white wooden stairs with the deftness of someone who’s done it a hundred thousand times. She grinned and pointed at the cords’ destination. Wasn’t it great?It was a crisp October night in the unassuming Midwestern city that’s still home to the Breeders, and leaves rustled beneath Deal’s yellow-soled Hokas. The two-bedroom, like Deal herself, is low-key and designed for music-making. A collection of hard drives lay on the floor in front of a bookshelf holding paperbacks and 45s, though ironically, she’s never been good at keeping a record collection. “Supposedly I have some rare ones,” she said, thumbing through a handful. “This is El Inquilino Comunista, a Spanish band, they were good.”Trends and names come and go, but despite living very much out of the spotlight, Deal has had a grip on the popular imagination for nearly four decades with her confounding lyrics, starry nonchalance and a distinctive singing voice that’s like cotton candy cut with paint thinner. “Cannonball,” a crunchy earworm with a slippery bass line from the Breeders’ second album, “Last Splash,” is sonic shorthand for “the ’90s.” Kurt Cobain loved her songs and took the band on tour with Nirvana in 1993; the 21-year-old pop star Olivia Rodrigo did the same in 2024.This month, at 63, Deal is finally releasing a full album under her own name, titled “Nobody Loves You More,” that is more than a new twist on a familiar aesthetic. It’s a statement of evolution from a fiercely independent artist in maturity — a project that evolved over the tumultuous years as Deal sorted out her sobriety, pried open old band wounds and devoted herself to her aging parents. Her mother and father both passed before she turned these long-gestating songs into an album. After it was finished, the man who helped make it, her beloved co-conspirator Steve Albini, died suddenly of a heart attack. He was 61.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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    ‘All We Imagine as Light’ Review: Tender Comrades

    In Payal Kapadia’s extraordinary drama, three women in Mumbai search for connections amid the city’s vibrant and darkly alienating churn.“All We Imagine as Light” is a quiet drama about fragility, beauty and kinship, and what it takes to keep going in ordinary, difficult times. Set in contemporary Mumbai, it centers on three Hindu women, their everyday lives and the bonds that they share with one another as well as with the larger world. It’s the kind of modestly scaled and lightly plotted international movie — with characters who look and sound like real people, and whose waking hours are set to the pulse of life — that can get lost amid the year-end glut of Oscar-grubbing titles. So, it’s worth mentioning upfront that it is also flat-out wonderful, one of finest of the year.The women work together at a busy city hospital, where two are nurses and the third is a cook. The nurses, Prabha (Kani Kusruti), who looks to be in her late 30s, and the much younger Anu (Divya Prabha), are roommates and living with a runaway cat in a small, cluttered apartment. Both nurses have complicated personal lives. Prabha’s husband left her behind to work in Germany and has drifted away from her, leaving her achingly alone. Anu has a secret lover, a young, earnest Muslim man she’s trying to keep hidden from everyone, including her family and Prabha, a reserved woman of decorous sensitivity.The story develops organically to incorporate the cook, Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam), a headstrong, middle-age widow. She’s struggling to stay in the apartment that she had shared with her husband, which developers now plan to raze. They’ve threatened her, if she doesn’t leave on their timeline (they’ve sent goons to her door), but Parvaty talks tough and conveys a resiliency bordering on obstinacy. When Prabha finds a lawyer to support her through her legal troubles, Parvaty flatly rejects the offer. “I don’t need any help,” she says with her back turned to Prabha. Like the two nurses, Parvaty seems determined to go it alone.In time, all three the women grow closer, and their lives become more intertwined, a shift that the writer-director Payal Kapadia develops with unforced naturalness and a remarkable lightness of touch. Kapadia has a background in documentary — this is the first feature-length fiction film she’s directed — and she integrates brief streets scenes of a thrumming Mumbai throughout “All We Imagine as Light.” Crucially, she opens the movie with a series of nighttime images of unidentified men and women working and wandering about the city, milling through busy streets, riding on crowded trains, visuals that she overlays with voices speaking different languages. “I was pregnant,” says one woman, “but I didn’t tell anyone.”This opening — with its seductive blur of anonymous voices and moving, always moving bodies — efficiently sets the scene and tone. As important, it also introduces a characteristic modernist concern with the attractions and the drawbacks of cities, with their frenetic swarms and cacophonous din, their liberating and soul-crushing anonymity. The city gives and it takes in equal measure, though not always fairly. It’s where Anu and her lover, Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon), can escape and melt into the crowd to hold hands, yet the city imperils Parvaty and may leave her stranded amid the clutter of fast-rising luxury towers. “Class is a privilege,” a billboard for one such tower blares. “Reserved for the privileged.”Though all the women receive their due, Prabha is the most central and vividly drawn. Physically reserved, with deep-set eyes that shuttle between searching openness and downcast reserve, she is revealed gradually and often through her interactions with others. She’s unassuming, polite to the point of deference and seemingly unaware of her striking looks. When a doctor, Manoj (Azees Nedumangad), approaches her one night, asking if she’s been working late, she apologizes without apparent reason. “Sorry doctor,” she says, seemingly oblivious of his interest in her, “I lost track of time.” When they go their separate ways, he gives her a poem that he wrote for a competition, though also perhaps for her.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