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    Takeaways from Britney Spears’s Memoir ‘The Woman in Me’

    The pop star’s new book, “The Woman in Me,” recounts her rise to fame, struggles that became tabloid fodder and her efforts to escape a conservatorship that long governed her life.There came a point during the 13 years that a conservatorship strictly governed Britney Spears’s life and career that she gave up fighting it, the singer recalls in her memoir, “The Woman in Me,” which is being released on Tuesday.Her father, James P. Spears, had been put in charge of her affairs in 2008 after she was twice hospitalized for involuntary psychological assessments. At times over the years that followed, she pushed back privately, but ultimately her exhaustion and fear of losing access to her two young sons won out, she recalls in the book.“After being held down on a gurney,” the memoir reads, “I knew they could restrain my body any time they wanted to. And so I went along with it.” Spears adds, “My freedom in exchange for naps with my children — it was a trade I was willing to make.”In the much-awaited 275-page memoir, which The New York Times obtained from a retail store in advance of its authorized release, Spears writes about her career as a teen idol, her struggles that became tabloid fodder, her time under the conservatorship and her eventual push for its termination in 2021, when she regained the right to make her own decisions.Throughout, she describes the feeling of being too much in the public eye, too scrutinized, whether by her parents or the paparazzi, or even by the doctors who she says “took me away from my kids and my dogs and my house.” But the story is, by nature, incomplete, referring cheerily to Spears’s post-conservatorship marriage to Hesam Asghari, known as Sam, who filed for divorce in August after a little more than a year.Below are other notable moments from the book.Rise to fameFrom performing her first solo — the Christmas carol “What Child Is This?” — at her mother’s local day care to auditioning with Whitney Houston’s “I Have Nothing” in rooms full of record executives, Spears tracks her rapid ascent to fame as a child and teenager.When she was 10 years old, she recalls, she was on the show “Star Search,” where the host, Ed McMahon, asked her if she had a boyfriend. After she replied that she didn’t, because they were “mean,” McMahon responded, “I’m not mean! How about me?” She “kept it together” until she left the stage, Spears writes, “But then I burst into tears.”After appearing on “The Mickey Mouse Club,” Spears writes, she decided that she wanted to live a “normal life” back in Kentwood, La., until Larry Rudolph, a lawyer whom her mother met on the audition circuit, suggested that she record a demo. She won a record deal at 15, and Rudolph became her longtime manager.Spears performing in 1999 during her … Baby One More Time Tour.Hulton Archive, via Getty ImagesMounting fame, and attentionSpears quickly rose from a teenager performing at malls to a 16-year-old pop princess with a hit single: “ … Baby One More Time.” She went on tour with the boy band ’N Sync, and had a high-profile romance with Justin Timberlake.She writes that she “couldn’t help but notice” that talk show hosts asked Timberlake different kinds of questions from the ones that she was asked: “Everyone kept making strange comments about my breasts,” the book says, “wanting to know whether or not I’d had plastic surgery.” The pressure only grew as she became a fixture on MTV, and the public criticism ultimately led her to start taking Prozac, she recalls.Spears describes a loving relationship with Justin Timberlake but says she was pained by what she describes as his unwillingness to have a child together when she became pregnant. She had an abortion, she writes.Mark J. Terrill/Associated PressBreaking up with TimberlakeSpears recounts her connection with Timberlake as magnetic and describes their breakup — which she said he initiated over text message — as leaving her “devastated” and fantasizing about quitting show business.She recalls her reaction to the release of Timberlake’s music video “Cry Me a River,” in which, as she describes it, “a woman who looks like me cheats on him and he wanders around sad in the rain.” She viewed the media as portraying her as a “harlot who’d broken the heart of America’s golden boy,” she writes, when in reality: “I was comatose in Louisiana, and he was happily running around Hollywood.”As first revealed in excerpts released by People magazine earlier this week, Spears recounts in detail the decision to get an abortion after she became pregnant while in the relationship with Timberlake. She said she didn’t view the pregnancy as “a tragedy,” but that he thought they were too young, leading her to agree “not to have the baby.”After the breakup, Spears says, she felt forced by her father and her management team to participate in an interview with Diane Sawyer, during which Sawyer pressed her on what she did to Timberlake that caused him “so much pain.” (In the book, Spears confirms a longtime rumor when she says she kissed the choreographer Wade Robson during her relationship with Timberlake, but she suggests that her behavior was related to rumors of Timberlake’s unfaithfulness.) Spears recalls that interview as a “breaking point” for her. “I felt like I had been exploited,” she writes, “set up in front of the whole world.”Relationship to drugs and alcoholTackling the peak years of her notorious stint as a paparazzi and tabloid fixture, Spears writes about her early adulthood forays into partying and nightlife with a sense of disbelief about how they were portrayed in the media.Of her time being photographed alongside celebrity peers like Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan, Spears writes, “It was never as wild as the press made it out to be,” saying that she had no interest in hard drugs and “never had a drinking problem.” Instead, Spears describes her “drug of choice” as the ADHD medication Adderall, which “made me high, yes, but what I found far more appealing was that it gave me a few hours of feeling less depressed.”Spears writes that during some of her most widely known public episodes — shaving her head and attacking a paparazzo’s car — she was “out of my mind with grief” following the death of her aunt and a custody fight with her ex-husband, Kevin Federline. “With my head shaved, everyone was scared of me, even my mom,” she writes. “Flailing those weeks without my children, I lost it, over and over again. I didn’t even really know how to take care of myself.”Spears adds: “I am willing to admit that in the throes of severe postpartum depression, abandonment by my husband, the torture of being separated from my two babies, the death of my adored aunt Sandra, and the constant drumbeat of pressure from paparazzi, I’d begin to think in some ways like a child.”Spears with her parents. She says in her book that her father, Jamie, became so controlling of her career while running her conservatorship that at one point he declared, “I’m Britney Spears now.”Denise Truscello/WireImage, via Getty ImagesThe conservatorshipIn early 2008, amid her public struggles, the singer’s father, known as Jamie, was appointed conservator of her finances and personal life by the state of California, an arrangement that lasted in various forms until 2021. Even as she returned to work as an entertainer, Spears writes that her every action was monitored, including who she could date or spend time with.“I know I had been acting wild, but there was nothing I’d done that justified their treating me like I was a bank robber,” Spears writes in her memoir. “Nothing that justified upending my entire life.” She describes the decision as being made by her father along with support from her mother and a business manager, Louise Taylor, known as Lou, who has denied being an architect of the conservatorship. (Jamie Spears has long defended his involvement as an effort to protect his daughter from financial exploitation.)“Too sick to choose my own boyfriend and yet somehow healthy enough to appear on sitcoms and morning shows, and to perform for thousands of people in a different part of the world every week,” Spears writes, adding of her father: “From that point on, I began to think that he saw me as put on the earth for no other reason than to help their cash flow.” Elsewhere, Spears recalls her father saying, “I’m Britney Spears now.”“I went from partying a lot to being a total monk,” Spears writes. “Security guards handed me prepackaged envelopes of meds and watched me take them. They put parental controls on my iPhone. Everything was scrutinized and controlled. Everything.”Any pushback by Spears was frowned upon, ignored or minimized, she writes: “I even mentioned the conservatorship on a talk show in 2016, but somehow that part of the interview didn’t make it to the air. Huh. How interesting.”Fans in the #FreeBritney movement often showed up outside court proceedings where they urged that she be released from the conservatorship. Spears writes of how much that lifted her spirits. Chloe Pang for The New York TimesFighting back and #FreeBritneyWhile Spears had intermittently pushed back against the conservatorship behind closed doors to no avail, she traces the beginning of the end of the arrangement to disputes with her father near the end of 2018, when she was made to undergo further mental health evaluations and then spend more than three months in rehab.“My father said that if I didn’t go, then I’d have to go to court, and I’d be embarrassed,” Spears writes, adding that he threatened to make her look like an “idiot.”In addition to being prescribed lithium at the facility, Spears says, she was allowed only an hour of television before a 9 p.m. bedtime. “They kept me locked up against my will for months,” she writes. “I couldn’t go outside. I couldn’t drive a car. I had to give blood weekly. I couldn’t take a bath in private. I couldn’t shut the door to my room.”It was there, in a $60,000-per-month Beverly Hills rehab, that Spears says a nurse showed her clips of fans representing the viral #FreeBritney movement that was questioning the need for the singer’s conservatorship. “That was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen in my life,” Spears writes. “I don’t think people knew how much the #FreeBritney movement meant to me, especially in the beginning.”She writes that “it felt like every day there was another documentary about me on yet another streaming service” (including one, “Framing Britney Spears,” by The New York Times). “Seeing the documentaries about me was rough,” she writes. “I understand that everyone’s heart was in the right place, but I was hurt that some old friend spoke to filmmakers without consulting me first.” She adds, “There was so much guessing about what I must have thought or felt.”When her father was removed as her conservator, not long before the arrangement was ended entirely, “I felt relief sweep over me,” Spears writes. “The man who had scared me as a child and ruled over me as an adult, who had done more than anyone to undermine my self-confidence, was no longer in control of my life.” When she received the call from her new lawyer, Mathew S. Rosengart, that the conservatorship was officially over, Spears writes, she was at a resort in Tahiti.But Spears remains raw about the aftermath of the conservatorship, writing of her continued estrangement from much of her family. “Migraines are just one part of the physical and emotional damage I have now that I’m out of the conservatorship,” she writes. “I don’t think my family understands the real damage that they did.”The memoir is scheduled to be released on Tuesday.Gallery Books, via Associated PressA return to music?While some say the conservatorship saved Spears’s life, she writes, “No, not really. My music was my life, and the conservatorship was deadly for that; it crushed my soul.”Throughout her time performing a revue in Las Vegas, Spears writes, she was not allowed to update the show. “When I wanted to perform my favorite songs, like ‘Change Your Mind’ or ‘Get Naked,’ they wouldn’t let me,” she writes. “It felt like they wanted to embarrass me rather than let me give my fans the best possible performance.”Now that she has the opportunity to create freely again, the singer writes, she does not feel motivated to do so, although she mentions a one-off collaboration with one of her musical heroes, Elton John, released last year. “Pushing forward in my music career is not my focus at the moment,” Spears says. “It’s time for me not to be someone who other people want; it’s time to actually find myself.”Sarah Maslin Nir and Chris Kuo contributed reporting. More

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    Annette Bening Knows a Thing or Two About Difficult Women

    In our 2023 Greats issue, out Oct. 22, T celebrates four talents across music, film, art and fashion whose careers are a master class in curiosity, composure and defiance. Whenever I read the profiles for this, our annual Greats issue, I’m always struck by the same thing: how many of our subjects say that their […] More

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    Queen Latifah Redefined Being a Multihyphenate — and Made It Look Easy

    In our 2023 Greats issue, out Oct. 22, T celebrates four talents across music, film, art and fashion whose careers are a master class in curiosity, composure and defiance. Whenever I read the profiles for this, our annual Greats issue, I’m always struck by the same thing: how many of our subjects say that their […] More

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    ‘To Kill a Tiger’ Review: The Survivor Who Refused to Be Shamed

    In this unflinching documentary, a young girl in rural India and her father fight an entrenched village culture to seek justice for her brutal rape.Nisha Pahuja’s documentary “To Kill a Tiger” opens with a startling image: a 13-year-old girl braids her hair in close-up as her father relates, in gutting voice-over, how she was raped by three men. Pahuja had planned to mask the girl’s face in post-production, but when Kiran (her pseudonym in the film) saw the footage at age 18, she chose to reveal herself in the film. It’s a defiant gesture on her part, to refuse the shroud of shame.“To Kill a Tiger” is a film bristling with such invigorating defiance. It follows Kiran and her parents, who live in a village in northeastern India, as they seek justice with the help of activists from Srijan Foundation, an advocacy organization. Interviews with other villagers reveal the tribalist, deeply patriarchal values that ensnare Kiran. Both men and women chastise her for her supposed irresponsibility and suggest brazenly that she marry one of her rapists to restore her “honor” and the village’s harmony.Kiran and her family are heroes, but this isn’t a simple tale of heroism. The film lays bare the uneasy and inadequate avenues available to survivors seeking justice. Is the long ordeal that pushes the family into debt and forces Kiran to repeatedly rehash her trauma making a difference? Is a fight that pits the family against their entire community worth it? Does the imprisonment of the perpetrators offer any real succor to the victim or upend the patriarchy?“To Kill a Tiger” doesn’t offer any easy answers. But in staying close to Kiran’s father, who refuses to let his daughter bow her head, and to the girl, who speaks with hope and flinty confidence, one thing is clear: The revolution begins at home.To Kill a TigerNot rated. In Hindi, with subtitles. Running time: 2 hours 5 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Waiting for the Light to Change’ Review: Listless in a Lakeside Cabin

    In her feature debut, the director Linh Tran tries to capture the longing and inertia between adolescence and adulthood.Unspoken longings charge the atmosphere of a chilly beach getaway in the elegantly titled “Waiting for the Light to Change,” directed by Linh Tran. The film, which won the Grand Jury prize at the Slamdance Film Festival this year (a Sundance alternative showcasing microbudget works), observes a group of 20-somethings as they lounge about a lakeside cabin during a weeklong vacation in Michigan.The story hews closest to Amy (Jin Park) as she reconnects with her best friend Kim (Joyce Ha) after some time apart. Complicating their reunion are Amy’s lingering feelings for Kim’s boyfriend, Jay (Sam Straley), and Amy’s recent dramatic weight loss. During the trip, spliff-smoking breaks and strolls through the dunes offer some variation amid the interminable idling, which seems to take the same sluggish forms no matter whether they are drunk, high or hung over.There are traces of films by Eric Rohmer and Hong Sang-soo in this lonely and sometimes drowsy drama, which unfolds almost entirely in a series of static long takes. In her feature debut, Tran is intermittently successful at capturing the listlessness that defines that liminal space between adolescence and adulthood; as “Waiting” progresses, malaise envelops her characters like the gray fog over the shoreline. Since the dialogue can feel stilted, the film’s best scenes are nearly wordless: silent surveys of the wreckage of things unsaid.Waiting for the Light to ChangeNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 29 minutes. Rent or buy on most major platforms. More

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    ‘Silver Dollar Road’ Review: Black Land Loss Is Still Happening

    The 20th century saw a mass dispossession of Black farmers. This intimate documentary focuses on one family’s recent battle to keep their home in North Carolina.Sixty five acres on the coast of North Carolina were purchased by Mamie Reels Ellison’s great-grandfather in the aftermath of slavery. That land on Silver Dollar Road became a home, a place to farm and fish, and a sanctuary, stretching from its pine and gum-tree woods to a sandy beach, where the Reels family relaxed for generations.By the 2000s, though, the Reels homestead was in jeopardy. Developers had claimed the waterfront property, and Mamie’s two brothers, Melvin Davis and Licurtis Reels, lost eight years in jail for refusing to vacate their houses. Directed by Raoul Peck, “Silver Dollar Road” adapts a 2019 ProPublica feature by Lizzie Presser into an intimate portrait of the family’s forbearance in the face of dispossession.Mamie and her niece Kim Duhon lead the family’s effort to hold onto the land, but while dipping into the legal morass, Peck’s film is more about sitting with the two women and their relatives, hearing out their fears and hopes as their ancestors’ land sits in limbo. Peck, who directed the fierce and engrossing James Baldwin documentary “I Am Not Your Negro,” refrains from systemic-style analysis to let the family speak for themselves about their experience.A birthday gathering for 95-year-old Gertrude Reels sets the tone early on for the family’s tight-knit circles and sense of continuity. Interviews with Mamie and Kim evoke fond memories of their childhood haven, illustrated with faded photographs; and Melvin, a fisherman with a winning flair, gives us an on-the-ground sense of the land, roaming through woods and waterways. (Peck draws on 90-odd hours of footage originally shot by Mayeta Clark for ProPublica.)Their legal trouble dates back to the 1970s when a Reels patriarch, suspicious of Southern courts, died without leaving a will. His land was passed to his children, but one of the co-owning relatives secretly sold the land to a developer through a legal loophole. It’s only one maneuver among many that have been exploited in a vicious history of Black land dispossession, as the film’s concise captions make clear: Over the course of the 20th century, Black Americans lost about 90 percent of their farmland.The film’s second half shifts to the battle to free Melvin and Licurtis from a sentence whose substantial length feels racially motivated. But Peck doesn’t give the film over to talking-head experts explaining how the Reels are symptomatic victims. Their weariness and sadness comes through in interviews with them, but they’re also palpably borne up by love and belief. (Animated intertwining branches in the film’s illustrations evoke their family tree.)While videotaping outsiders on the Reels property during the brothers’ time in jail, Mamie minces zero words about racism among whites. But no one here is defined by this struggle, and amid the looming threats to a cherished home, Peck’s accomplishment is to let the Reels family own their emotional space.Silver Dollar RoadRated PG. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes. Watch on Amazon Prime Video. More

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    ‘Another Body’ Review: A Cowardly New World

    This film, directed by Sophie Compton and Reuben Hamlyn, follows a woman as she attempts to find the person responsible for posting her face on a deepfake porn video.When Taylor Klein, an engineering student, receives a message from a friend advising her to open a link, she’s cautious. Eventually she clicks, and finds herself staring back at herself. Taylor’s face has been stolen to make a deepfake video, which was posted with her personal information on a pornography site.The documentary “Another Body” takes us into this cowardly new world, one in which the images of a person — most often a woman — can be lifted from social media and digitally repurposed.When Taylor contacted the police to report what she thought was a crime, she didn’t get far. Currently only five states have laws making nonconsensual deepfake pornography a criminal act.The film, directed by Sophie Compton and Reuben Hamlyn, follows Taylor as she attempts to track down the person responsible. Along the way, she discovers two others whose faces have also been used for deepfake porn: Julia, a woman she recognizes from college, and Gibi, an ASMR actor and streamer.The twist is that Taylor’s and Julia’s names are pseudonyms and that they are portrayed by “face veil” actors (that technology came to the fore in the documentary “Welcome to Chechnya”).“Another Body” is most persuasive when experts weigh in on the reality-upending aspects of deepfake technology and image-based sex abuse. That the documentary does this by utilizing some of that technology to protect Taylor and Julia’s identities raises its own ethical questions — ones that, even with the filmmakers’ compassion and transparency, “Another Body” doesn’t quite resolve.Another BodyNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘The Persian Version’ Review: A Bumpy Road Out of Iran

    An Iranian American woman navigates her family life and her personal life in this semi-autobiographical feature from Maryam Keshavarz.“I dreamed of being the Iranian Martin Scorsese,” confesses Leila (Layla Mohammadi), the lead character in “The Persian Version,” Maryam Keshavarz’s semi-autobiographical reverie about a rising Iranian American director and her tumultuous family life.The film won the audience award at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, the second of Keshavarz’s movies to take that prize. (Her first, the 2011 queer romance “Circumstance,” launched her career — and got her banned from Iran.)The movie opens at a costume party where Leila sports a niqab over a pink bikini, her cultural contradictions on brazen display. Leila, reeling from a split with her wife, Elena (Mia Foo), has a one-night stand with Maximillian (Tom Byrne) and becomes pregnant. To her conservative parents and eight brothers, Leila’s impending motherhood is yet another of her outrageous scandals.Throughout, Keshavarz wields her Scorsese influences. There are disorienting time-jumps, abrupt edits and heavy narration paired with shots of Leila strutting through New York City. But Keshavarz samples other genres, too, from westerns and twee indies to go-for-broke slapstick. Maximillian, the would-be boyfriend, stammers adorably like he’s in a Hugh Grant rom-com and spends most of the film in drag. (He’s playing the lead in a production of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” at the time.)The result is a personal film that feels oddly impersonal. The tonal clutter overwhelms Keshavarz’s genuinely interesting story. On the page, it might have sounded clever to have Leila hide under a gorilla mask when she bumps into her ex-wife at the grocery store. Onscreen, however, the gag feels contrived and distracting.The script most resembles a herky-jerky one-woman show, a string of memories and cheeky, self-conscious declarations. Keshavarz has propped up her story line with refrains that don’t quite coalesce. Her breakup with Elena is echoed by her description of the acrimony between Iran and America: “Like any great romance, it ended in a bitter divorce,” she says, an analogy she uses twice. Her father, Ali (Bijan Daneshmand), spends the movie in a hospital awaiting a heart transplant; her mother, Shireen (Niousha Noor), is deemed “heartless.”Gradually, Keshavarz shifts her focus from Leila, essentially her fictional self, to Shireen as a way to re-examine her own mother, Azar Keshavarz, through adult eyes. The sequences that star Shireen are fantastic. The first segment, set in the early 1990s, charts her climb from uneducated immigrant housewife to real estate dynamo. The film also goes back to the late ’60s when Shireen was a rural child bride. We’re staggered by her journey to empowerment, a grueling stretch of which shows her desperate, alone and pregnant, riding a donkey. Kamand Shafieisabet, the phenomenal teenage actor who portrays young Shireen, continues to live in Iran. She deserves a global spotlight.Keshavarz seems so awed by her mother’s resilience that she only hesitantly sketches a through-line from that tale to her own. Instead, having shuffled through scores of ideas, Keshavarz ends the film saluting all women fighting to live on their own terms — a struggle raging in Iran and beyond.The Persian VersionRated R for language and sexual references. Running time: 1 hour 47 minutes. In theaters. More