Eliana Willis

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    ‘Abbott Elementary’ and the Joys of Living Outside the Main Edit

    The sitcom has tweaked the mockumentary formula to teach an invaluable lesson about the value of life off-camera.There is a scene, early in the second season of ABC’s “Abbott Elementary,” that neatly captures some most contemporary questions about the power and ubiquity of video. Teachers at Abbott, a public elementary school, are in their lounge, watching something alarming. A charter-school company has been running what’s essentially an attack ad against them, featuring unflattering video clips of them on the job. As they process seeing themselves eviscerated onscreen, a question hovers over the proceedings like chalkboard dust: How did the charter school obtain this footage in the first place? The answer comes from the school’s principal, Ava Coleman, who explains that she welcomed in the interloping camera crew — because she had a hard time telling them apart from the regular camera crew, the one supposedly filming the show we’re watching.“Abbott Elementary,” now reaching the close of its second season, is a mockumentary sitcom; its narrative frame involves the production of a documentary about “underfunded, poorly managed public schools in America.” The teachers are used to being filmed, if not always happy about it. (Ms. Schemmenti, the resident South Philly toughie, turns on the regular crew: “See, this is why I never trusted any of youse! Now get the cameras out of my face before I give you a colonoscopy with it.”) They have been subject to a classic sitcom trope, the misunderstanding that leads to humiliation. But the root of that humiliation is unlike most every sitcom character before them: They’ve been captured by the wrong cameras.The show isn’t exactly subtle in its suspicions about what recording culture has done to education.The way “Abbott” deploys comic mix-ups is a technique the show shares with traditional sitcoms, the 20th-century kind with their multicamera setups, stagelike sets and audience laughter (real or simulated). But “Abbott” exists in a world that has been slowly shedding that style. Many examples still exist, but by the end of the aughts, multicamera shows were already seen as quaint compared with their critically acclaimed new counterparts — single-camera comedies like “Arrested Development,” “The Bernie Mac Show” or “Modern Family.” These shows could borrow techniques from film, documentary and reality TV — cutaways, confessional interviews, voice-over — to access jokes unavailable in the old studio-audience setup. The most obvious predecessors of “Abbott” were among them: the American adaptation of “The Office” and, later, “Parks and Recreation,” both long-running NBC mockumentary sitcoms about close-knit workplace colleagues.“The Office” framed itself as a documentary about work at an ordinary company, then let that premise recede into the background; it wasn’t until its final season that it began to reckon with the camera crew’s yearslong presence. “Abbott” has introduced this quagmire much earlier. Across its sophomore year, it has repeatedly turned its attention to the inescapable surveillance we face today — not just from professional camera crews but from one another. Coleman’s gaffe is, in reality, just another expected incursion. The staff’s flabbergasted reaction is an instance of the characters’ not so much breaking the fourth wall as routinely banging their heads against it.The attack-ad scene parallels one from the show’s pilot, in which the premise is introduced. Principal Coleman barges into the teachers’ lounge boasting about the staff’s chance to become famous. After an older teacher, Mrs. Howard, reminds her why the crew is filming — the school is being cast as both underresourced and badly managed — Coleman replies that “no press is bad press.” It’s often unclear whether the biggest challenge facing the teachers is a lack of resources or the fact that Coleman is such an ineffective, uninterested leader. But the charter-school episode marks the first time that the main threat to their work is their own comfort with being observed. The principal may be hilariously awful, but in this case the teachers have ceded their privacy — and that of the small children they teach — to random strangers with cameras.The whole misunderstanding mirrors what the critic Ian Penman once called “the relentless publicity of modern life,” a quality that leads many of us to constantly re-evaluate our relationships with recording technology. On “Abbott,” the main characters have various levels of attachment to cameras and microphones, which wind through plots in countless ways. In one episode, Ms. Teagues — the idealistic protagonist played by the show’s creator, Quinta Brunson — introduces her co-workers to a TikTok challenge that helps them fund-raise for school supplies. Mr. Hill, the dorky young history teacher, tries to help his students start a podcast. Mr. Johnson, the school’s custodian, helps quash a TikTok-style fad and later mugs for the camera at a Sixers game.They’ve been captured by the wrong cameras.But the show sieves most of its video-​age anxiety through Principal Coleman. She pulls out her phone to record videos of teachers arguing. She spends her time watching survivalist reality-TV shows in her office. She live-streams online auctions. The show isn’t exactly subtle in its suspicions about what recording culture has done to education, for either the children or the staff, but Coleman’s online hustles and schemes are a joke that can point in either direction: Sometimes they’re selfish manipulations that waste everyone’s time, and sometimes they pop up in the final act to rescue the school.Crucially, though, it’s the least-pertinent footage that carries an important lesson “Abbott” has for viewers: the value of life lived outside the main edit. In real documentaries, the richest parts often capture something secret or ancillary, something “caught” from outside formal interviews. But these mockumentaries are scripted, meaning showrunners can simply write those moments in. Their use of such footage suggests that the real meaning of our lives is often found outside the stuff we’re presenting on camera for others to see. Even the attack ad speaks to this: Viewers know that the moments captured in that commercial represent only a sliver of what the characters have to offer.“Abbott” uses such incidental footage to interesting effect. In a first-season episode, we watch Mrs. Howard and Mr. Hill try to plant a garden, though neither really knows how. A stoic former substitute, Mr. Eddie, whose father owns a landscaping company, grumbles about the project. Over the course of the episode, the garden mysteriously improves — until, in the closing minutes, we see that Mr. Eddie has been tending to it in secret. In another episode, Ms. Teagues and her visiting sister get into an argument about deep-seated family trauma — one we see play out incidentally, caught by rolling cameras even though it has nothing to do with the supposed theme of the documentary.The question of why the fictional cameras of “Abbott” take this approach has, thus far, gone unanswered. But the show’s sustained critique of our video-saturated era — conditions that models like “The Office” and “Parks and Recreation” never had to contend with — suggests that the narrative function of this “minor” footage is crucial. TikTok and Instagram, two of Principal Coleman’s favorite platforms, might feature much comedy and the language of storytelling, but neither is all that good at doing what great sitcoms have always done: revealing the ways that people are messy and contradictory and fail to align their private and public selves. In this era of curated video, the way “Abbott” treats seemingly throwaway moments is a reminder that our biographical B-roll, in memories and private impressions, is the most valuable viewing material.Source photographs: Gilles Mingasson/ABC; Tim Robberts/Stone/Getty Images; Manu Vega/Moment/Getty Images.Niela Orr is a story editor for the magazine. Her recent work includes a profile of the actress Keke Palmer, an essay about the end of “Atlanta” and a feature on the metamusical “A Strange Loop.” More

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    Stephen Colbert Calls Nashville Shooting ‘Horrible and Familiar’

    “Not doing anything about this is an insane dereliction of our collective humanity,” Colbert said on Tuesday.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.‘Horrible and Familiar’An armed assailant shot and killed six people at a Nashville elementary school on Monday.Stephen Colbert called the situation “horrible and familiar, and horrible because it is so familiar,” noting that the tragedy was “the 130th mass shooting of 2023, and 2023 is only 87 days old.”“Not doing anything about this is an insane dereliction of our collective humanity. And the obvious solution here is one President Biden has proposed: an assault weapons ban. We’ve had one before, from 1994 to 2004 — and it worked. During that ban, the risk of dying in a mass shooting was 70 percent lower than it is today. That just makes sense. Fewer guns equals fewer shootings.” — STEPHEN COLBERT“It’s not complicated. It might be hard, but it’s not complicated. That’s just math. It’s the same reason these days we have fewer strangulations with a landline.” — STEPHEN COLBERTBoth Colbert and “The Daily Show” guest host John Leguizamo reacted to U.S. Representative Tim Burchett’s comments that, “It’s a horrible, horrible situation, and we’re not going to fix it. Criminals are going to be criminals. And my daddy fought in the Second World War, fought in the Pacific, fought the Japanese, and he told me, ‘Buddy,’ he said, ‘If somebody wants to take you out and doesn’t mind losing their life, there’s not a whole heck of a lot you can do about it.’”“Yes, I suppose as a lawmaker, he could, I don’t know, make a law, but that sounds like a lot of work. Despair — despair is so much more efficient. It reminds me of that sign on the subway: ‘If you see something, whatevs. Bombers gonna bomb.’” — STEPHEN COLBERT“That’s the best you have to offer? You’re a congressman! If you don’t have any ideas for how to keep our kids safe, get the [expletive] out of the way — yes! — and go work at a Pinkberry or some [expletive]!” — JOHN LEGUIZAMO“And, by the way, no disrespect to his father, but if going to school in America feels like fighting in World War II, that should be a sign that things are seriously [expletive] up in America, OK?” — JOHN LEGUIZAMO“Counterpoint: Elementary school is not supposed to be like World War II.” — STEPHEN COLBERTThe Punchiest Punchlines (Pity Party Edition)“The grand jury in New York is not expected to convene tomorrow, which means the earliest they can vote on an indictment is now next week. In the meantime, Trump has been busy saying goodbye to old friends. Last night, he threw quite a pity party on his pal Sean Hannity’s show.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“Former President Trump was interviewed last night by Fox News host Sean Hannity. ‘Thanks for having me back,’ said Hannity and Trump at the same time.” — SETH MEYERS“Yeah, apparently Trump was there to promote his next indictment: [imitating Trump] ‘It’s gonna be huge.’” — JIMMY FALLON“Save it for your cellmate, Donald. We don’t want to hear it anymore.” — JIMMY KIMMELThe Bits Worth WatchingJohn Leguizamo challenged legendary B-boy Crazy Legs to a break-dance battle on Tuesday’s “Daily Show.”What We’re Excited About on Wednesday NightThe actor Adam Scott, who stars in “Party Down,” will sit down with Seth Meyers on Wednesday’s “Late Night.”Also, Check This OutJoaquin Phoenix praised his working relationship with the director Ari Aster, noting his “willingness to push yourself, and to be pushed and to push back.”A24The “Midsommar” writer-director Ari Aster’s new dark comedy, “Beau is Afraid,” has an all-star cast including Joaquin Phoenix, Patti LuPone and Parker Posey. More

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    ‘According to the Chorus’ Review: Backstage Truths

    In Arlene Hutton’s play at 59E59 Theaters, the members of a Broadway cast reveal their hopes and fears tucked away in a quick-change room.Even longtime theatergoers could learn a few fun tidbits from the new play “According to the Chorus.” That, for example, when members of a Broadway ensemble are in costume, they are not supposed to eat, smoke or hold a dog. Or that they often drive the dressers who help them in and out of said costumes bonkers — and vice versa.Spry and zippy — to a fault, as it skims rather than digs — Arlene Hutton’s backstage story, presented by New Light Theater Project (“I Wanna F*ck Like Romeo and Juliet,” “Imagining Madoff”), has found an appropriate home in the smallest venue at 59E59 Theaters. The show takes place in a Broadway quick-change room, a hive of activity in cramped quarters, and the audience is sitting inches away, adding to the sense of immersion in a tight-knit community.A former dresser herself, Hutton (“Last Train to Nibroc”) zeros in on the worker bees who keep shows going. And the unnamed musical in the play has been going for years when we catch up with it, in 1984. Based on the stage outfits we see, it looks like an old-fashioned tuner, à la “42nd Street” or “Dames at Sea.” It also sounds like quite a workout, which partly explains why during breaks the chorus tends to avoid climbing the several flights of stairs to the dressing rooms and instead head to the basement to hang out with the dressers.The latter are led by the crusty veterans Audrey (Karen Ziemba) and Brenda (Judith Hiller). They often treat the cast members with gruff impatience, and you get the feeling the pair have heard and seen it all. Audrey has been at her gig so long, she knows the answer to every backstage variation on the light bulb joke.One fast-paced scene after another reveals confidences and arguments, hopes and fears, and of course the eternal quandaries: How much should you tip your dresser? Is it a good idea to go on tour if you’re in a Broadway show? What’s best, zippers or Velcro?We watch this busy little microcosm through the eyes of newcomer KJ (Dana Brooke), who used to be a dresser at the more leisurely City Opera and leads a parallel life as an aspiring playwright. Good-natured and eager to please, KJ used to be in a relationship with a featured dancer, Peter (Brandon Jones), who eventually came out as gay.This gives KJ a personal connection to the AIDS epidemic as it ravages the ranks of the company and the staff. “I’ve been through six dance partners since we opened,” the saucy Linda (Joy Donze) says. “No, seven.”And of course, there are the usual theater worries: rumors that the show could close, the ever-present threat of an injury that can endanger a performer’s livelihood.The show, efficiently directed by Chris Goutman, tracks the women — the men are peripheral here — over the course of several months. Or at least it attempts to, because “According to the Chorus” ends up stretching itself too thin. With a cast of 12, Hutton does not have the time to flesh out her many characters, leaving us with tantalizing glimpses of lives half-told, personalities half-sketched. These women are finally spending some time in the spotlight, and it’s still not enough.According to the ChorusThrough April 15 at 59E59 Theaters, Manhattan; 59e59.org. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. More

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    Bill Zehme, Author With a Knack for Humanizing the Famous, Dies at 64

    A prolific biographer, he charmed his way into access to, and insights about, Frank Sinatra, Hugh Hefner, Johnny Carson and many others.Bill Zehme, whose biographies and magazine profiles humanized the celebrities he described as “intimate strangers” — the “shy, succinct” Johnny Carson; the “blank” Warren Beatty; Frank Sinatra, whose “battle cry” was “fun with everything, and I mean fun!” — died on Sunday in Chicago. He was 64.His partner, Jennifer Engstrom, said the cause was colorectal cancer.Mr. Zehme’s biography of Mr. Sinatra, “The Way You Wear Your Hat: Frank Sinatra and the Lost Art of Livin’” (1997), was a best seller. He also shared the author credit on best-selling memoirs by Regis Philbin (“I’m Only One Man!” in 1995 and “Who Wants to Be Me?” in 2000) and Jay Leno (“Leading With My Chin” in 1996).His other books included “Intimate Strangers: Comic Profiles and Indiscretions of the Very Famous” (2002), “Lost in the Funhouse: The Life and Mind of Andy Kaufman” (1999) and “Hef’s Little Black Book” (2004), a stream-of-consciousness collaboration with Hugh M. Hefner, the founder and publisher of Playboy magazine.Mr. Zehme’s biography of Frank Sinatra, published in 1997, was a best seller, and he and Mr. Sinatra remained close.Mr. Zehme (pronounced ZAY-mee) conducted what is widely believed to have been the last major interview with Johnny Carson, whom he called “the great American Sphinx” and whom the CBS anchor Walter Cronkite called “the most durable performer in the whole history of television” when Mr. Carson retired in 1992 after some 4,500 episodes of “The Tonight Show.”Mr. Zehme’s “Carson the Magnificent: An Intimate Portrait” was published in 2007, but he never completed the full-fledged biography he had planned.The Chicago-born Mr. Zehme was often said to have cultivated recalcitrant sources with his Midwestern charm. His portraits were not hagiography, but neither were they tell-alls, and he remained close to some of the subjects he interviewed, including Mr. Sinatra and Mr. Hefner.“Bill didn’t dig around for dirt or comb through the proverbial closet hunting for skeletons,” David Hirshey, a former deputy editor of Esquire magazine, said by email. “What interested him was more subtle than that. Zehme looked for the quirks in behavior and speech that revealed a person’s character, and he had an uncanny ability to put his subjects at ease with a mixture of gentle playfulness and genuine empathy.”That’s why,” Mr. Hirshey continued, “Sharon Stone covered by nothing but a sheet allowed Bill to interview her while lying side by side as they enjoyed a couples massage.”Mr. Carson, Mr. Zehme wrote in an essay for PBS in conjunction with an “American Masters” documentary on him, “rose to reign iconic as the smooth midnight sentinel king whose political japes and cultural enthusiasms mightily swayed popular taste at whim or wink.” That wink, Mr. Zehme noted, transmitted “surefire stardom to aspiring personalities, especially comedians, and privileged co-conspiracy to regular viewers who became his spontaneous partners in sly mockery.”Andy Kaufman, Mr. Zehme wrote, was “a pioneering practitioner of various cultural trends long before they ever became trends.”Delacorte PressOf Mr. Beatty, Mr. Zehme wrote: “He speaks slowly, fearfully, cautiously, editing every syllable, slicing off personal color and spontaneous wit, steering away from opinion, introspection, humanness. He is mostly evasive. His pauses are elephantine. Broadway musicals could be mounted during his pauses. He works at this. Ultimately, he renders himself blank.“In ‘Dick Tracy,’ he battles a mysterious foe called the Blank. In life, he is the Blank doing battle with himself. It is a fascinating showdown, exhilarating to behold. To interview Warren Beatty is to want to kill him.”Mr. Zehme provided tips from Mr. Sinatra about what men should never do in the presence of a woman (yawn) and about the finer points of his haberdashery: “He wore only snap-brim Cavanaughs — fine felts and porous palmettos — and these were his crowns, cocked askew, as defiant as he was.”“Mr. Sinatra’s gauge for when a hat looked just right,” Mr. Zehme wrote, was “when no one laughs.”He described the unorthodox and at times controversial comedian Andy Kaufman as “the pre-eminent put-on artist of his generation” and “a pioneering practitioner of various cultural trends long before they ever became trends.”William Christian Zehme was born on Oct. 28, 1958, the grandson of a Danish immigrant. His parents, Robert and Suzanne (Clemensen) Zehme, owned a flower shop in Flossmoor, a village south of Chicago and not far from South Holland, where Bill was raised.Mr. Zehme in 2017. “Bill didn’t dig around for dirt or comb through the proverbial closet hunting for skeletons,” a colleague said. “What interested him was more subtle than that.”Loyola University Chicago School of CommunicationHe graduated from Loyola University in Chicago in 1980 with a degree in journalism.One of his first books was “The Rolling Stone Book of Comedy” (1991). In 2004, he won a National Magazine Award for his profile of the newspaper columnist Bob Greene.In addition to Ms. Engstrom, Mr. Zehme is survived by Lucy Reeves, a daughter from his marriage to Tina Zimmel, which ended in divorce; and a sister, Betsy Archer.Mr. Zehme bridled at being identified as a celebrity biographer, although most of the people he profiled had been famous long before he wrote about them. They had not, however, seemed as familiar as next-door neighbors until Mr. Zehme wrote about them.“The celebrity profile is the bastard stepchild of journalism, and I’m embarrassed sometimes to be associated with it,” he told Chicago magazine in 1996.“The truth is, I have never written about a celebrity,” Mr. Zehme wrote in “Intimate Strangers.” “I have always written about humans, replete with human traits and foibles and issues, who also happen to be famous.” More

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    An ‘Obsession’ With Philip Glass Inspires a Director’s Memory Play

    In “Tao of Glass,” Phelim McDermott, who has directed three Glass operas, turns to his personal history with the composer’s work.The first piece of theater that Phelim McDermott made after college, decades ago, used music by Philip Glass. And directing productions of three of Glass’s operas has brought McDermott — and Improbable, the theater company he helped found in 1996 — glowing reviews and sold-out houses.So it’s not surprising that McDermott’s “Tao of Glass,” which arrives at the NYU Skirball on Thursday, is a loving tribute to his long relationship — what, in an interview, he called “my obsession” — with Glass’s seemingly repetitive yet constantly transforming music.“Philip’s music has been like this river that’s gone through my creative life,” McDermott said on a video call from London, where he was completing rehearsals for a revival of his juggling-heavy production of Glass’s “Akhnaten” at English National Opera. “It connects me to a part of myself that sometimes I neglect and have forgotten about. It’s like an invitation to return to myself.”Improbable’s productions tend to be built from everyday stuff, but “Tao of Glass” is even more modest than most. It is essentially a one-man show for McDermott. (Glass doesn’t perform live in the piece, but is present in ghostly form through a sophisticated player piano that plays back precisely what he put down on it, including every detail of touch and phrasing.)Onstage, McDermott is surrounded by shadow play, sticky tape and creatures formed from tissue paper as he tells stories about his life; his history with Glass, both the work and the man; his experiences in meditation-encouraging flotation tanks; and his encounters with the writings of Lao Tzu, the open-minded principle of “deep democracy” espoused by the author and therapist Arnold Mindell, and a shattered coffee table made of, yes, glass.In the interview, McDermott talked more about his relationship with Glass and how the show came together. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.The composer Philip Glass in 1980.Jack Mitchell/Getty ImagesTalk about the roots of your relationship with Glass’s work.I was at college in London, what was then Middlesex Polytechnic, and I became very obsessed with his music. This was in 1982 or ’83, and I would take out VHS tapes of him playing with the Glass Ensemble, and footage of the operas and so on. And then, in the last six weeks of my degree course, I made an adaptation of an Ian McEwan short story, “Conversation With a Cupboard Man.”It was a monologue about a guy who lives in what, in the U.K., we call a wardrobe — quite a dark, sort of strange piece about this guy who’s a misfit. And Philip’s music from “Glassworks” was so appropriate to that piece. It became the music we used in the show.And when did you take on one of the operas?I was approached by John Berry at English National Opera. It was 2005, and I was performing a show called “Spirit” at New York Theater Workshop, literally around the corner from where Philip lives, and he met me at Atlas Cafe. I’d been asked to do “Einstein on the Beach,” and I thought it was a stupid idea. Philip asked me, “Why do you want to do ‘Einstein’?” And I said, “I don’t.” So we talked a bit, and he said, “Your genuine reluctance to do this piece makes me think you should do it.”But then he mentioned “Satyagraha.” And I went away and listened to it, and it’s not a bio-opera about Gandhi; it’s about a concept. I got excited by this idea of collective social activism, of big groups of people and how they can exchange ideas. And it resonated with Arnold Mindell’s “worldwork”: If you want to do social activism and change, you have to work on yourself. If there’s an outer conflict, you also have to work on that conflict within yourself. That idea of “deep democracy” is in “Tao of Glass.”Your stagings of “Satyagraha,” “Akhnaten” and “The Perfect American” have different unifying concepts.With “Satyagraha,” which we first did in 2007, it was big-scale spectacle, but using humble materials: sticky tape, newspaper — building those into large-scale puppetry. That became a model or metaphor for how, collectively, you can create something powerful even with humble materials. For “The Perfect American” (2013), which is about Walt Disney, it was about animation, and about all the work that goes into it between every frame. And for “Akhnaten” (2016), about the Egyptian pharaoh, it was juggling — and it turned out the very first image of juggling is in an ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic.The countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo, center, as the title character in McDermott’s staging of Glass’s “Akhnaten.”Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesHow did “Tao of Glass” come about?It’s a show that happened when another one didn’t, which I talk about in “Tao of Glass.” Philip and I were supposed to adapt Maurice Sendak’s “In the Night Kitchen.” I’d come out to New York; I’d done a storyboard and what musical bits might happen; but Maurice’s sad death, in 2012, meant that project veered into not happening.John McGrath at the Manchester International Festival said even if that project’s not happening, if I was to dream what I might make with Philip, what might that be? And I got a vision, floating in the flotation tank, of me and Philip onstage together. I went to Philip and said, “I have a vision: I’m doing the puppetry, and you’re at the piano.” And he never said no.Part of the story is my dream of getting him back into a rehearsal room the way I imagine he did when he was just starting out, just a downtown rehearsal space and some musicians. And it happened: There was this week where Philip did come into the rehearsal room, and I told stories — about him, about Taoism, about Arnie Mindell — and he would riff, and then he went away and arranged those bits of music he’d played. And, in a way, the show made itself. In the breaks, he would take us to a Tibetan curry house where they all knew him. It was Philip having a good time, really.They say don’t meet your heroes, but I did, and I ended up making a crazy show with him that’s one of the things I’m proudest of. When you’re making a show like this, you have to trust something, and what you end up trusting is just doing the next step and the next step and the next step. And that’s what Philip’s music does. People say it’s repetitive, but it’s not really repetitive. It’s cyclical and it changes, and you get to a place where you don’t know how you got there, a deeper place.What comes next for you and him?The last time I saw Philip — we always have a little conversation about what happens next, and he said, “When we work together, it seems to go quite well.” And at the moment we’re talking again about “Einstein,” to complete the trilogy with “Satyagraha” and “Akhnaten.”There’s probably vocabularies from those other productions that will go into our version of “Einstein” — probably a new vocabulary, too, but also elements of those other productions. When we met, he talked about various things, but the thing he’s most excited about is the trilogy: that we’ve got to do our Improbable version of “Einstein,” so that we can do all three operas across a city at the same time.He’s a bit slow now, but he said, “You’ve got me all fired up.” So I know that that’s what Philip wants to happen — and I’m saying that publicly so that it does. That’s how you make things happen. More

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    In ‘Unstable,’ the Sins of the Father Are Comedy Gold

    LOS ANGELES — John Owen Lowe was 11 or 12 when he first realized that his father wasn’t quite like the other dads. So what was it like to grow up with a father this famous, this problematically handsome?“How about ‘unbelievably’ handsome?” John Owen’s father, Rob Lowe, 59, interjected from the other end of a sofa in a Netflix conference room in early March. His son grimaced.The short answer: Not great, especially for a kid with social anxiety. “I remember thinking, I didn’t ask for all this extra attention,” John Owen Lowe, 27, said. “But the truth is, nobody wants to hear you complain about that.”A few years ago, he found an alternative to complaining. He began to troll his father on social media, dinging him for each humblebrag. “The subtle art of taking a selfie in front of ur Emmy nominations,” an early comment on one of Rob’s thirst traps read. Others include “Maybe skip chest day for awhile” and “Plz god no.”The elder Lowe took the mockery in stride. Eventually he helped to give it a new platform. He had tried to dissuade both of his children — an older son, Matthew, is now a venture capitalist — from pursuing careers in the entertainment industry. But after John Owen graduated from Stanford, with a degree in science technology, he announced that he wanted to write and act. While writing on “9-1-1: Lone Star,” the Fox emergency responder drama starring his dad, he began to suspect that their barbed dynamic was actually pretty funny. So funny that it just might undergird a show of its own. The elder Lowe immediately signed on as a creator and executive producer.That half-hour comedy, “Unstable,” created with Victor Fresco (“Better Off Ted,” “Santa Clarita Diet”), debuts on Netflix on Thursday. Rob stars as Ellis Dragon, a volatile biotech guru grieving his wife’s death, with John Owen as Jackson, the son brought into his company to steady him. The show exaggerates their personal relationship for comic effect — in reality Rob is more self-aware and John Owen is less mean. But according to both men, it doesn’t exaggerate all that much. And it may have improved that relationship, if only up to a point.In the Netflix series “Unstable,” Rob Lowe plays a grieving biotech guru whose son is brought into the company to help steady him.John P. Fleenor/Netflix“Unstable,” both Lowes say, exaggerates the dynamics of their personal relationship for comic effect, but not all that much. Netflix“I have learned to treat him with some level of respect that feels earned,” John Owen said. “But then they call ‘cut’ and he’s like, ‘If you wear your hair like that, people aren’t going to take you seriously.’ And I’m like, ‘Now it’s time for you to get lost.’”In that small conference room, with John Owen in a baggy dotted suit and Rob in a tight, white T-shirt that set off his ridiculously blue eyes, the two men discussed family, trauma and the idea that despite its billionaire, high-tech trappings, “Unstable” is mostly just a story of a child deeply embarrassed by his parent.“The secret weapon of the show is how relatable it is,” Rob said.These are edited excerpts from the conversation.John Owen, when did you realize that your father was famous?JOHN OWEN LOWE It isn’t something you’re born knowing. But there is a time where you go, ‘Oh wait, my existence isn’t like everybody else’s.’ Probably around fifth or sixth grade, I remember looking back and re-evaluating certain things. Like, oh, it’s not a normal experience to get nervous to walk a red carpet with your dad when you’re 8 years old.When you were growing up, did he behave differently in public?JOHN OWEN There’s not that big of a difference. There’s just not.ROB LOWE I came into acceptance of living a public life really, really early, because I’ve seen two types of people: They either come to terms with it and embrace it or they don’t. The don’t crowd is not for me. My heroes are the people who wear it well.JOHN OWEN There’s a certain type of celebrity who’s like, “Just treat me like a normal person.” And I’m like, “But you’re not! You aren’t a normal person. Your life is the furthest thing from normal.” So don’t give me this spiel, because it’s fake. Rob, on the occasional night that he’s feeling it, he’ll say, “Let’s go giraffe.” And we’ll go to a place where he might be seen.Giraffe?ROB Because you can’t walk a giraffe down the street without people pointing.John Owen, when did you start making fun of your father in public?JOHN OWEN I’ve made fun of him my whole life. It’s our love language. He made it really easy for me to do it publicly when he started to become more present on social media — that was when I found it impossible to not chime in. Like when you took a non-ironic workout selfie in front of your Emmy nominations, I had to say something.ROB First of all. I will never, ever, ever——JOHN OWEN ——win an Emmy.ROB ——take an ironic workout photo. You just wait. You get north of 50, there’s no more irony left.JOHN OWEN I don’t think you know what irony means.“I’ve made fun of him my whole life,” John Owen said of his father. “It’s our love language.” Chantal Anderson for The New York TimesDoes his social media persona actually embarrass you? Or do you just enjoy trolling him?JOHN OWEN It’s not a bit. This is very real. He’s very, very embarrassing.Is it funny to you, Rob, or does it hurt?ROB I love it. You have to understand, one of the highlights of my life was my Comedy Central roast.JOHN OWEN He’s a really good sport. I will give him credit there. I’ve said some cutting stuff to you before, for sure.ROB The more cutting, the more I like it.How did “Unstable” come about?JOHN OWEN I was writing on “Lone Star.” The proximity to my dad was driving me insane, the idea of never escaping his shadow. I had a weekly phone call with my manager and agent where they basically served as de facto therapists. I would say, “I’m going crazy. I’ll never separate from him. Is this my destiny?” They would laugh at my pain, but I thought to myself, Maybe there’s something interesting here, like, this might be a show. Then we got Victor Fresco involved, who really helped us structure it.So you made a Netflix show as therapy?JOHN OWEN It’s wildly cathartic for me. For sure. First of all, I get to make fun of him on a public platform. But it’s sweet and rewarding, honestly, to act with him.How close are both of you to your characters?JOHN OWEN Pretty close.ROB Pretty close.JOHN OWEN Ellis is like 90 percent Rob, truly. I do believe that.ROB It’s definitely my worldview and essence, on steroids.What are some of the other inspirations for Ellis?JOHN OWEN Elon Musk. Because he’s an insane person and keeps failing upward.ROB The other was the Zappos founder [Tony Hsieh], who was obsessed with fire and eventually died in a fire. It was just the notion of these brilliant, amazing geniuses, who always have to keep pushing and testing and searching.“Watching Johnny do the hours was amazing,” Rob said. “He’s like a hothouse flower. He’s like, ‘I’m so tired.’ I’m like, ‘Bro, you’re in the prime of your life.’”Chantal Anderson for The New York TimesWhat has it been like working together so closely?JOHN OWEN We do have a seamless work flow. I’ve worked with him in different facets before this, but this is the most hands-on we’ve ever been. I’ve never shared carrying a show with him.ROB Watching Johnny do the hours was amazing. He’s like a hothouse flower. He’s like, “I’m so tired.” I’m like, “Bro, you’re in the prime of your life.”JOHN OWEN I learned a lot from him on “Unstable.” How somebody in that position carries himself, when so many people are counting on you to deliver day in and day out. I was impressed. That’s as much of a compliment as I’m going to give you right now.And what was acting opposite him like? Because this man, he’s a brick wall of charisma — it’s a little shattering.JOHN OWEN He does have a lot have charisma. In a scene, if people aren’t bringing it, he’ll suck attention into himself. He’s a black hole of energy and positivity. I use that. There’s two ways to match an actor doing something like that: One is to try and meet them where they are; the other is to just let them go. And that’s really what Jackson’s doing, because that’s what I do in real life around him. Even in the writing, I’ve helped craft set pieces that are built for him to be the spectacle.Has it given you anything new to troll him with?JOHN OWEN Where do I even begin? He may have had to read a line off a cue card. I have that cue card in my car. I’m keeping it.And what has it given you, Rob?ROB I get to do what is probably one of the last great network hits [“9-1-1: Lone Star”], then I get to do this and fulfill my goofy, nerdy comedy side. It’s the dream. It’s literally the dream.JOHN OWEN It’s Rob’s world. We’re all just living in it.John Owen called working on “Unstable” with his father “wildly cathartic.” “First of all, I get to make fun of him on a public platform,” he said. “But it’s sweet and rewarding.”Chantal Anderson for The New York Times More

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    Late Night Recaps Donald Trump’s Waco Rally

    Hosts raised their eyebrows over the former president’s choice of venue, near the Texas compound where the Branch Davidian cult met with disaster 30 years ago.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.‘If I Did It’Donald Trump held a rally in Waco, Texas, on Saturday, near the site where dozens of members of a religious cult died by fire as federal agents besieged their compound 30 years ago. During his speech, the ex-president addressed the investigation into his alleged payment of hush money to a porn star.“That wouldn’t be the one!” Trump said of the porn star, Stormy Daniels, quickly adding, “There is no one. We have a great first lady.”“Yes, her name is Jill Biden,” Jimmy Kimmel said on Monday.“But, just to be clear, he didn’t do it, he wouldn’t do it, but if he had done it, he wouldn’t have done it with her.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“I love that Trump’s running for office and from the law at the same time.” — JOHN LEGUIZAMO, guest host of “The Daily Show”“Trump chose Waco because it’s a powerful metaphor for his campaign: He’s going down in flames, and he’s taking his cult followers with him.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“Former President Trump held a rally on Saturday in Waco, Texas, near the site of the Branch Davidian cult’s compound. Or, as it’s now known: campaign headquarters.” — SETH MEYERS“Former President Trump held a campaign rally on Saturday in Waco, Texas, making him the first cult leader ever to escape that city alive.” — SETH MEYERS“Yep, you could tell Trump was nervous about getting arrested, because he gave his speech with one foot in Mexico.” — JIMMY FALLONThe Punchiest Punchlines (Final Four Edition)“The teams in this year’s Final Four are Miami, Florida Atlantic, UConn and San Diego State. Really? The only way your bracket’s got those four teams is if you filled it out this morning.” — JIMMY FALLON“This Final Four was on nobody’s bracket.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“In a strange turn of events, I found myself rooting for this imaginary school on Saturday. I was all in on Gonzaga because, they’re, really, they’re the ultimate Cinderella story, in that, like Cinderella, they’re also fictional characters who do not exist.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“I’ll be honest, I think two of those teams might just be online universities.” — JIMMY FALLONThe Bits Worth WatchingLil Nas X joined James Corden for “Carpool Karaoke” on Monday’s “Late Late Show.”What We’re Excited About on Tuesday NightThe singer-songwriter and actress Mary J. Blige will appear on Tuesday’s “Late Show.”Also, Check This OutLana Del Rey’s new album is “as sprawling, hypnotic and incorrigibly American as an interstate highway,” our critic says.Neil KrugLana Del Ray’s ninth album, “Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd,” asks big, earnest questions and isn’t afraid to get messy. More

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    ‘Perry Mason’ Season 2, Episode 4 Recap: More Than Meets the Eye

    Perry, Paul and Della aren’t the only people searching for answers about Brooks McCutcheon.Season 2, Episode 4: ‘Chapter Twelve’Life, like a murder case, has its ups and downs. First, the down: Perry, Paul and Della have learned that the brothers Mateo and Rafael Gallardo have been lying and did indeed murder Brooks McCutcheon. Now, the up: Perry, Paul and Della all hooked up. Call it a glass-half-full situation.First, let’s focus on the amorous success of our three heroes. Della scores with her screenwriter inamorata, Anita, at Anita’s retreat in Palm Springs. Paul and his wife, Clara, carve out a little alone time during a rare 40-minute stretch when they’re alone in their crowded house. (Her sultry dance to Louis Armstrong proves persuasive.) And Perry seems downright stunned to discover the fetching schoolteacher Miss Aimes at his door during the small hours.Miss Aimes’s visit caps off the miserable days during which Perry learned of the Gallardos’ guilt, which stretch into a long night during which he briefly takes Lydell McCutcheon’s prize racehorse out for a joyride as retaliation for the negative headlines McCutcheon’s pals have been planting about him in the press. (No one does pointlessly petty like Perry.) It all culminates when Perry shows up at school to pick up his son and winds up socking another parent for calling him “Maggot Mason,” per the nickname generated by the radio firebrand “Fighting” Frank Finnerty (John DiMaggio).Is it reasonable to assume that decking that dude is part of what attracts Miss Aimes to Perry? I’ve never known an educator to respond to an outburst of violence on school grounds by thinking, “Ooh, that guy’s a catch!” Perhaps it’s Perry’s willingness to stick up for himself, and by extension his clients — guilty or not, they’re the victims of vituperative racism among the city’s chattering class — that revs her engine. Either way, we officially have ourselves another new love interest for one of our legal eagles.I wonder if there might be another on the way, too. As part of her research into Brooks McCutcheon’s stadium scheme, Della pays another visit to Camilla Nygaard. A true Renaissance woman, Camilla teaches piano and researches nutrition when she isn’t overseeing her oil empire. Most important, she encourages Della to be direct about her frustration with Perry’s moodiness and about her ambition to have her name on the firm’s front door.Sure, Nygaard may just be providing inspiration as a powerful woman — or, in a more sinister possibility, attempting to throw Della off the scent of her own potential involvement in Brooks’s murder. But considering Della’s already established wandering eye, I don’t think we can completely rule out the possibility of another affair.Getting back to business, Paul is the linchpin figure this week. (Like Juliet Rylance, Chris Chalk has an intense screen presence during his solo sequences that more than compensates for the absence of the title character.) Paul has every confidence that his conclusions about the murder weapon were correct and that the Gallardos used it, just as they later confessed to Perry and Della from jail. But that’s just it: Their confession lines up exactly with what the prosecutors Hamilton Burger and Thomas Milligan say took place. How often does that happen? Paul was a cop long enough to learn that the official story is rarely the correct one.So he does some more digging, bribing the gun dealer who provided the weapon to the Gallardos into admitting that they rented the piece every day for target practice. Where would they get that kind of money, Paul wonders? And is it a coincidence that Brooks’s murder required the skills of an expert marksman?The final scene hints at an answer. Using one of Rafael’s prison drawings as a guide, Mateo’s wife, Sofia, retrieves a huge cache of cash from beneath a nearby car. And since Perry is, ahem, busy at that moment, I’ll provide you a theory of my own about it: The Gallardos were paid to assassinate Brooks in such a way as to make it look like a mugging gone wrong.By whom, though? Was it his disapproving father? A business competitor like Camilla? A rival in the semi-legal casino business? Could it have to do with his violent sexual proclivities, which it seems left Noreen Lawson — the sister of the city councilman in charge of the ward where Brooks’s stadium was to be erected — in her mentally diminished state?Perry, Paul and Della aren’t the only people searching for answers about Brooks, by the way. His employee turned successor aboard the casino boat, Detective Holcomb, is on the hunt for how the guy managed to procure free food. More precisely, he is eager to know how Brooks and his business partners were making money off the operation, since he isn’t seeing a dime. Stumbling upon the man whom Brooks’s father, Lydell, maimed in the previous episode, he learns that Brooks was accepting huge shipments of produce from offshore vessels on a regular basis — from the McCutcheon shipping fleet, no less.Why bring in fruits and veggies in such an expensive manner when California is overflowing with them? Was daddy dearest aware his son was skimming from the family operation? Or, as I suspect, was there a lot more aboard those ships than just potatoes?From the case files:The show’s director of photography, Darran Tiernan, and the director Jessica Lowrey sure know how to light a scene. The huge blue-white stadium lights that illuminate Perry’s devil-may-care ride on that racehorse, the golden sun that illuminates Della and Anita as they kiss and undress, even the familiar flicker of a movie-theater newsreel taken in by Perry (and the sex worker he pays double to leave him alone) — gorgeous stuff from start to finish.“He seems a bit broken,” Camilla says of Perry, nailing it. In fact, it seems she is going to assess his character even more accurately when she says, “It can be a bit difficult to be in the trenches.” But after a pregnant pause, she adds, “with someone like that,” indicating that she was speaking metaphorically instead of speaking about his experience during the Great War. That remains his hero-slash-villain origin story, as far as I’m concerned.The deer-in-the-headlights look Miss Aimes wears when Perry asks her if she wants to come in is priceless. It truly is as if neither of them has any idea what her answer to that question could possibly be — until she answers it by coming in.At the start of the episode, it’s unclear whether Paul will hand over the murder weapon to Perry. Then, it seems as if they and Della might cover it up together. Then it seems as if Perry might quit the case rather than defend guilty men. In all three cases, idealism and illegality go hand in glove. More