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    Timothy West, Who Portrayed Kings and Prime Ministers, Dies at 90

    Timothy West, a versatile actor who portrayed a parade of historical and classical figures onstage and onscreen, and in between became a household name in Britain as a sitcom and soap opera regular, died on Tuesday in London. He was 90.His death was announced by his family on social media. They did not specify where he died but thanked the staffs at a London care home and a hospital for “their loving care” during Mr. West’s final days.With arched brows, narrow eyes and a strong jaw, Mr. West brought a commanding presence to historical figures like Winston Churchill, Joseph Stalin and King Edward VII, and to notables of classic theater like King Lear, Macbeth and Willy Loman.He was perhaps best known to American audiences for his performances in British television imports: the mini-series “Edward the King,” the movie “Churchill and the Generals” and the acclaimed mini-series “Bleak House,” an adaptation of the Charles Dickens novel that was shown on PBS’s “Masterpiece Theater” in 2005.Mr. West, kneeling, in 1970 in “Edward II” with Ian McKellen. He was known to bring a commanding presence to historical figures.AlamyMr. West, left, with Ian Richardson in the BBC drama “Churchill and the Generals.” It was the first of his three career portrayals of the British prime minister.RGR Collection/Alamy Stock PhotoAlthough Mr. West was a staple of British television, had dabbled in radio drama and had several small film roles, his lifelong passion was the theater.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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    in Television

    ‘Cross’ and ‘The Lincoln Lawyer’ Offer Different Spins on the Same Formula

    Within the boundaries of the crime-solving genius genre, “Cross” represents the dark yin and “The Lincoln Lawyer” the bright yang.On the page, Alex Cross, the embittered psychologist created by James Patterson, leads his fellow fictional crime solver Mickey Haller, the flamboyant lawyer created by Michael Connelly, 32 novels to seven. On the small screen, the tables turn: The Haller series “The Lincoln Lawyer” debuted its third season last month on Netflix while the first season of “Cross,” announced nearly five years ago, finally arrives Thursday on Amazon Prime Video.But who’s counting? There appears to be endless space in the current marketplace for brilliant but wounded investigators, and Haller and Cross share an essential marker of the contemporary crime-drama hero. Their personal traumas — Cross’s loss of his parents and wife, Haller’s issues with his father and with addiction — generate much of the tension in their stories, reducing the need for real complexity of personality or the clever unraveling of mystery.Formulas can be executed in different ways, however, and the two shows provide radically different viewing experiences. Within the boundaries of the problematic-genius formula, “Cross” represents the dark yin and “The Lincoln Lawyer” the bright yang. “Cross” goes for self-consciously heavy, “The Lincoln Lawyer” for perilously light. Most significant, perhaps, “Cross” is out to sanctify its protagonist; “The Lincoln Lawyer,” while it provides Haller with a full allotment of anguish, never asks us to feel sorry for him.The creator of “Cross,” Ben Watkins, previously created the eccentric neo-noir “Hand of God,” also for Amazon. The penchants he demonstrated then for hair-raising imagery, and for throwing together tones and styles, carry through to the new show. Choosing not to base “Cross” on a specific Patterson novel (unlike film adaptations including “Kiss the Girls” and “Along Came a Spider”), Watkins frees himself to cook up a lurid but not very exciting stew of serial-killer horror, buddy-cop action, social-justice point-making and sentimentality.Cross, played by Aldis Hodge (“Leverage”), is a District of Columbia police detective with a Ph.D. in psychology. We meet him on the occasion of his wife’s murder, and for eight episodes the character shuttles between dour grief and bellowing anger; Hodge, usually a magnetic performer, settles on a glaring, unmediated intensity.The A plot, in which Cross investigates the murder of a defund-the-police activist, blossoms into a richly nonsensical “Silence of the Lambs”-style fantasia. Common sense is left far behind, in matters large and small; at one slap-your-forehead juncture, a cop yells, “He could be anywhere!” seconds after the killer escapes, while his car can still be heard in the near distance.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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    Big Apple Circus Review: A City Tour, Pizza Rats Included

    The third poodle wouldn’t join the conga line. Its fluffy co-stars pranced on their hind legs, while the third one scampered from side to side, reluctant to keep the rhythm. The poodle’s trainer coaxed and gently urged. But sometimes a dog just doesn’t want to dance.This was at the Big Apple Circus, the annual, genial extravaganza that sets up its big-top shop in a corner of the Lincoln Center Plaza. The opening performance was on the Saturday after Election Day, the tent lit in nonpartisan red and blue. The city still felt unsettled and even here the vibes were arguably off — acrobats stumbled, jugglers dropped batons, a unicycle rider lasted barely a second on the pedals.Vibes aside, a circus is still a circus. And a circus, however wobbly, is still a joy. There are buckets of popcorn to eat, light-up toys to wave, clowns to cheer. If this year’s acts are not exactly death defying, some of us have enough to worry about these days and may welcome the presence of a net, a mat. A soft place to land, spangles for days and nachos covered in Day-Glo orange cheese, that’s escapism enough.Rafael Abuhadba and one of his poodles at the circus. Michelle V. Agins/The New York TimesThe circus’s theme this year is Hometown Playground. Whether the two-dozen or so performers and musicians actually call New York home is left unaddressed, but several of them are costumed as pizza rats (well, two pizza rats, one gamine pizza mouse), which is perhaps the next best thing.In a relatively brisk two hours, the show, which does without a ring master or mistress, visits a few tourist sites — Central Park, Coney Island, Harlem. Other acts are given vague tie-ins to the five boroughs. An acrobat performs an upside-down routine dressed as a construction worker. (Upside-down they don’t cat call.) He is followed by a trio on the Russian swing apparatus, also dressed as construction workers, which suggests certain imaginative limits. The poodles, all shelter rescues, arrive in a checkered cab. A couple of them are dressed as Ziegfeld girls.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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    in Television

    How Stingy Boomer Parents Became the Best TV Villains

    Older Americans hold an outsize share of the nation’s wealth and power. Television loves watching their children scramble for a taste.Plots about inheritance and succession are not a new phenomenon. The form could hardly be more familiar: Take an empire-straddling lion-in-winter, throw in some desperately competing heirs and watch as the shifting allegiances and loyalty tests devolve into bedlam. The Gospel of Luke gives us the parable of the prodigal son, in which one child does his duty and the other squanders his inheritance. Shakespeare had King Lear go mad after disinheriting his youngest and being betrayed by his older daughters.Still, even by the accustomed standards, recent television feels utterly awash in succession-themed stories. “Empire,” “Yellowstone” and “La Maison” all hinge on the promises and prevarications of parents and their offspring. On HBO alone, we’ve had “Succession” (children vying for control of a media empire), “The Righteous Gemstones” (children vying for control of a religious empire) and “House of the Dragon” (children vying for control of the family dragons).Neither is this trend reserved for fiction. Two recent documentaries revolve around an emergent archetype in succession stories: the crusty, vainglorious old man whose megalomaniacal allegiance to his business empire supersedes his capacity for common decency.Released in September, the six-part Netflix documentary “Mr. McMahon” explores the legacy of professional wrestling’s most consequential overlord, Vince McMahon, who took over the hardscrabble World Wrestling Federation — previously owned by his father, Vince McMahon Sr. — and transformed it into a global juggernaut. By the 1990s and 2000s, World Wrestling Entertainment (having changed its name in 2002) was drawing huge ratings by dramatizing McMahon’s dueling with his two children, Stephanie and Shane, who both desired, in the W.W.E.’s story line, to compete with and succeed their autocratic father.Professional wrestling is, famously, a strange admixture of reality and fiction; its in-ring beefs are often exaggerated versions of offscreen animosities. “Mr. McMahon” reveals the extent to which the McMahons’ televised rivalries were true to life. Shane, in particular, butted heads with his father around the height of what is known in wrestling lore as the Attitude Era. The two men ended up battling each other at WrestleMania 17 in 2001, following weeks of onscreen drama regarding the future of the W.W.E. The ensuing “street fight,” as it was billed, turned nasty as the father peppered his son with actual punches, rather than the usual pulled shots. It is unpleasant to watch and hard to turn away from.The wealth hoarding of older generations may be the lurking subtext of all these plots.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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    Small Streamers Like Hallmark+ and BritBox See Subscribers Surge

    Like Christmas shows? So does Hallmark+. Like horror? Dare to try Shudder. And British shows? There’s BritBox and more.Executives from the Hallmark Channel made a curious decision this fall: They started a new streaming service.It seemed like an awfully late date to do so. Most media companies entered the streaming fray years ago, and few have had success going head-to-head against titans like Netflix, Amazon and Disney.But Hallmark executives decided the timing was not an issue. Their app, Hallmark+, did not need to appeal to the whole country, they said, just their core audience — the people who regularly flock en masse to the network’s trademark holiday and feel-good programming.“We don’t have to make content that are all things to all people,” said John Matts, Hallmark Media’s chief operating officer.He might very well be onto something.For much of the past decade, conventional wisdom inside the entertainment world has been that only a small handful of megaservices would survive the streaming wars. After all, they had the stars, the budgets and the technological prowess.But numerous media executives now believe that there could be room for some more modest streaming services, too.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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    Jordan Klepper Isn’t Wild About the ‘First Buddy,’ Elon Musk

    “Trump’s been getting something that Elon’s 11 children will never receive: his full attention,” Klepper said on “The Daily Show.”Welcome to Best of Late Night, a rundown of the previous night’s highlights that lets you sleep — and lets us get paid to watch comedy. Here are the 50 best movies on Netflix right now.Buddy BuddyDonald Trump keeps making news with his appointments, choosing Kristi Noem, the governor famous for shooting her dog, to run the Department of Homeland Security. Elon Musk, who’s also been promised a post, seems to have the president-elect’s ear; on Monday, Musk posted on X, “I’m happy to be first buddy!”“Since the election, Trump’s been getting something that Elon’s 11 children will never receive: his full attention,” Jordan Klepper said on Tuesday’s “Daily Show.”“Oh, good. Good! The world’s richest man is helping the president-elect run the country. I’m sure by the time Elon’s done, his businesses will be unregulated, he’ll have billions in new government contracts, and it’ll be illegal to point and laugh at a Cybertruck.” — JORDAN KLEPPER“‘First Buddy’ sounds like a sequel to ‘Air Bud’ where we elect a golden retriever to be president — which, frankly, I’d take at this point. Looks nice. It looks nice! Just keep it away from Kristi Noem, you know?” — JORDAN KLEPPERThe Punchiest Punchlines (Hide Your Dogs Edition)“Kristi Noem shouldn’t be in charge of a PetSmart, let alone homeland security.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“One of his main messages during the campaign was about killing the pets: ‘They’re eating the dogs! They’re eating the cats!’ He goes out and hires the woman who shot her puppy.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“She’s supposed to get the border under control? She couldn’t even train her dog.” — JORDAN KLEPPER“This woman has no national security experience. She’s the governor of South Dakota. That isn’t even the best Dakota. It goes North, Fanning, Johnson, then the building John Lennon was shot outside of, then South Dakota.” — JORDAN KLEPPER“Noem has an impressive résumé. She was a congresswoman, a governor, and during the campaign, she was Trump’s most trusted backup dancer.” — JIMMY FALLON, playing a video of Noem dancing next to Trump onstage“I know, I know — it’s important not to focus on that one time Kristi Noem shot a dog, because it’s just as important to remember that she also shot and killed her family’s goat.” — STEPHEN COLBERTThe Bits Worth WatchingAmber Ruffin, a “Late Night” writer, struggled to get through a post-election edition of her regular segment, “Amber Says What.”What We’re Excited About on Wednesday NightThe stand-up comedian Emma Willmann will appear on Wednesday’s “Tonight Show.”Also, Check This OutWith the Gits, who became part of Seattle’s punk scene in 1989, the singer Mia Zapata was a formidable stage presence.Charles PetersonOn Nov. 13, Sub Pop will release remastered recordings by the Gits, the Seattle punk band whose frontwoman, Mia Zapata, was murdered in 1993. More

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    ‘Maybe Happy Ending’ Review: Darren Criss and Helen J Shen Are Robots in Love

    A supersmart musical about making a connection arrives on Broadway in a joyful, heartbreaking, cutting-edge production.Claire is low on energy, so she pops across the hall to Oliver’s pad for a pick-me-up. But Oliver, a creature of routine, doesn’t like being interrupted while listening to jazz and waiting for mail. She insists, he gives in, and a spark, maybe a literal one, is ignited.Never was a meet cute as cute — and as quietly ominous — as it is in the musical “Maybe Happy Ending,” which opened Tuesday at the Belasco Theater. That’s because the pair are robots, and Claire’s battery is running down fast. Hooking her up to his charger may signal, for Oliver, the beginning of love. It may also signal the end of it.That we nonrobots also connect, pair and empower one another to share a too-brief lifetime is the surprising double vision that makes “Maybe Happy Ending” a ravishing addition to the catalog of Broadway nerdicals. The term is high praise, honoring supersmart, usually small-scale shows — like “Fun Home,” “The Band’s Visit” and “Kimberly Akimbo” — that nevertheless have big emotional impact. This one, directed with breathtaking bravura by Michael Arden, gets bonus points for difficulty, too: Under cover of sci-fi whimsy, it sneaks in a totally original human heartbreaker.The sci-fi elements are handled lightly and humorously in the book by Hue Park and Will Aronson, thus dodging the invidious scrutiny that the genre often elicits. By 2064, when their story takes place, Helperbots — android servants like embodied Siris — have been assisting humans with daily tasks for decades. But Oliver (Darren Criss) and Claire (Helen J Shen) are now obsolete, living out their days in a pleasant retirement home in Seoul as their operating systems antiquate and replacement parts become scarce.Still, they remain fully sentient and distinct. Oliver, an early model Helperbot 3, is more stylized and herky-jerky than Claire, a later model Helperbot 5. His lips are pursed, his feet splayed, his language not quite natural (he can’t stop saying “thank you”) and his hair a hard helmet like a Playmobil figurine’s. Even so, he spent enough years with his former owner, James Choi, to have absorbed some human analog tastes — the jazz LPs especially — and to miss him fiercely. Surely Choi (Marcus Choi, excellent) will reclaim him one day.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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    ‘The Vegetarian’ Review: Putting a Nobel Prize Winner’s Work Onstage

    After Han Kang won the Prize in Literature last month, a stage version of her novel “The Vegetarian” sold out its run at a struggling Paris theater.Other Paris theaters may be a little envious of the Odéon this fall. In a stroke of good luck, long before the Nobel committee met to decide its 2024 honorees, the playhouse had scheduled a new stage adaptation of a work by Han Kang, the South Korean novelist and surprise winner of this year’s Prize in Literature.Now, Parisians are flocking en masse to “La Vegetariana,” an Italian-language version of Han’s “The Vegetarian,” directed by Daria Deflorian. The sold out run, through Nov. 16 at the Ateliers Berthier, the Odéon’s second stage, is a welcome opportunity to dive into Han’s surreal style, by way of a thoughtful, if at times muted, production.“La Vegetariana” is tightly focused on the novel’s central characters. Yeong-hye, whose sudden conversion to vegetarianism bewilders everyone around her, is watched closely by her nameless husband, sister and brother-in-law. In the novel, each of the three narrates a section. Here, too, they introduce Yeong-hye and comment on her directly to the audience in long monologues.In that sense, Deflorian, who coadapted the novel with Francesca Marciano and also appears in the role of the sister, treats the source material with reverence. Onstage, Yeong-hye remains an enigmatic figure, speaking as little as she does on the page. Initially afraid of meat, she later stops eating altogether. She requires no food, she says at one point, because she believes she is morphing into a tree.Unfortunately, without directorial intervention, an impenetrable heroine can also make for dull theater. As Yeong-hye, Monica Piseddu wanders the near-empty stage like a sleepwalker, dressed in an oversize T-shirt. While each scene is announced through projections with the abruptness of a movie script (“Couple’s House. Inside at Night.”), the shadowy lighting traps the characters in a kind of perpetual twilight, with gray walls as their cheerless background.Deflorian, left, in the role of the unnamed sister of Yeong-hye, played by Monica Piseddu.Andrea PizzalisWe 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