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    Leo Reich Likes Nothing Better Than a Movie Where Nothing Happens

    “Any movie by Alexander Payne, Lena Dunham, Greta Gerwig, anything European,” said the comedian, who has a special on Max. “Anything where a woman with ennui wanders around a medieval town.”Like a lot of comedians, Leo Reich works out the kinks in his stand-up routines by pacing the floor and talking to himself.During the pandemic, that process reached a fever pitch.“I think that’s where a lot of the angst in the show was from,” he said about “Leo Reich: Literally Who Cares?!,” his Gen Z lampoon now streaming on Max, “the fact that I was at home in the childhood bedroom where I’d always lived with all of my old posters on the wall, just furious about the state of affairs that I was finding myself in.”Under that strain, what began as a confessional, rather traditional set eventually morphed, he recalled in a video call from London, into a kind of self-parody “of the worst excesses of my own personality.” During the new set, Reich, 25, flop-sweats across the stage in short shorts and black eye makeup.“It’s so funny having done a show that tries to send up on some level that whole idea of the fetishization of young talent,” he said, before elaborating on snobbery, eating animals and the freedom of humiliation, “and then essentially become what I was trying to lovingly criticize.”These are edited excerpts from the conversation.1Two Pints of Beer and a CigaretteIt can be hot sun, Coronas and a Camel Blue. It can be dead of winter, subzero temperatures, two pints of Guinness and a Marlboro Red. What I will say is that after you’ve had two pints of beer and a cigarette, that is actually scientifically peak physical performance that a human being can get to. You will never feel as good as that in any other context.2Bird Watching and Pondering the Natural WorldThere was a period when I was 9 to 15 where I was a really obsessive bird watcher. Not to get religious about this, but sometimes in our lives we have to sit back and be in awe of the majesty of nature. It also makes you think, “God, I really know nothing about the universe because this little guy is dressed in bright, bright blue, and there is no possible explanation for that that I could possibly make sense of.”3Bad Sketch ComedyI passionately believe that perfection is the enemy of joy. To watch someone onstage do something that is on some level quite humiliating, but have the absolute best time doing it, you get a feeling of freedom and human connection that is unparalleled.4Movies Where Nothing HappensAny movie by Alexander Payne, Lena Dunham, Greta Gerwig, anything European. Anything where a woman with ennui wanders around a medieval town and runs her hand along a curtain. Something where someone wonders, “Is this all there is to life?” That’s perfect to me.5OffalIf you’re going to kill and eat an animal, you should do it in the style of a Renaissance king and make sure that you eat the whole thing. The perfect intersection of that for me is eating a liver, a kidney, some intestines — something where you truly cannot hide away from the fact that what you are doing out of your own free will as a human being is biting into something that was once alive.6Snobbery and Reverse SnobberySome things I’m a snob about: superhero films, interior design, restaurants, grammar, weirdly. Things I’m not a snob about: coffee, wine, reality TV, pop music. You’ve got to choose a couple of things where you’re like, “Listen up, I know more than you about this.” And some other things where you’re like, “Don’t over-intellectualize it. I’m just here to have fun.”7PiningYou don’t need any material reason or justification for it. You can pine after literally anyone, and your brain and heart will create the most gorgeous back story out of absolutely nothing that will sustain you, in my experience, years at a time.8Dancing to ’80s PopI mean, if you are dancing in a club that’s got lasers in it and, I don’t know, some Pet Shop Boys, come on. It rewires your brain forever.9Novels Where Nothing HappensThe person wandering around the city is probably from the ’20s or ’30s, and they’re doing something like planning a party or collecting a package. The whole novel is a metaphor for civilizational decline. I’m talking “Mrs. Dalloway” — almost any novel by Virginia Woolf will work for this. I’m talking Flaubert’s “Sentimental Education.” Something that if someone saw you reading it, they’d go, “Oh, the guy’s an intellectual.” Little do they know you don’t understand a thing that’s going on.10Saying Something StupidI think that one of the nicest things in the world is to embarrass yourself in a social setting and just accept that it’s happened. More

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    ‘The Curse’ Season 1, Episode 7 Recap: The Power of Delusion

    This week characters young and old are indulging in magical thinking.Can you make yourself believe something even if it isn’t true? The characters on “The Curse,” either consciously or unconsciously, seemingly think that might be possible. It’s certainly a disease of sorts that Asher and Whitney have, and it seems like it might be trickling down to Nala.The episode this week is bookended by two scenes of Nala in school. It opens with her in gym class. As her bully climbs a rope Nala whispers, “fall,” trying to see if she can hurt her. For a moment both Nala and the audience are convinced that maybe she’ll plummet. Nala’s focus is intense. There is a close-up of the hook holding the rope to the ceiling. It quivers. It wouldn’t be surprising if it breaks. But it doesn’t. The girl makes it down safely.Has Nala convinced herself she has magical powers? Has Asher convinced her she does with all of his questions? Regardless, whether or not she thinks she can make her classmate fall, she gives it a shot. At first it seems fruitless, but then in the episode’s final moment her enemy runs into a wall in the playground. Maybe there’s something to Nala’s belief after all.Not that Nala actually really knows all that much. As her enemy crashes into the wall we hear Nala telling another girl there’s makeup you can wear for an entire month. We are reminded that she has the knowledge of a child and probably doesn’t wield metaphysical power.Whitney has a similar, parallel story line specifically centered around the artist Cara Durand. Whitney and Cara’s relationship has always seemed one sided — Whitney thinks they are friends; Cara seems less convinced. Whether or not they can actually be called pals, it’s clear that Whitney’s interest in Cara isn’t entirely about camaraderie: For Whitney, Cara’s friendship is also a business partnership. If Cara likes her, she’ll sign the release to let her art be featured on “Fliplanthropy.” If Cara likes her, she’ll agree to be a consultant on the show, bolstering Whitney’s credibility with the Native community.In an effort to make this happen, Whitney shows up at Cara’s door bearing a truly strange gift. She buys an offensive statue that Cara had pointed out to Dougie from a mini golf course, and gives it to Cara, explaining that she can use it in her art and “recontextualize it.” Cara appears disturbed. Whitney’s sense of altruism is askew — in thinking she is helping a Native artist she just brought a terrible stereotype into her house. Yes, Cara clearly plays with these images in her work, but Whitney doesn’t realize how off-putting it is for a white person to essentially force her to grapple with this kind of depiction.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?  More

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    Why We Can’t Get Enough of Cult Documentaries

    The stories are juicy, but the volume is perhaps tied to a persistent question: Why do so many people believe so many crazy things?Nobody joins a cult. They just joined an exciting group of people trying to change the world. They just wanted to empower themselves, to feel better, to know Jesus, to do drugs with interesting people, to be different from their parents, to live off the grid. Then things got hairy and now here they are, sagely describing this process to a dutiful filmmaker.Our current cult documentary boom has been going strong for years now, beginning in earnest with 2018’s “Wild Wild Country” and not really letting up. There has been “Jonestown: Terror in the Jungle,” “Heaven’s Gate: The Cult of Cults,” “The Way Down,” “Keep Sweet: Pray and Obey,” “Stolen Youth: Inside the Cult at Sarah Lawrence,” “Waco: American Apocalypse,” “Shiny Happy People,” “The Deep End,” “In the Name of God: A Holy Betrayal.” There were two Nxivm documentaries — “The Vow” and “Seduced: Inside the Nxivm Cult” — and two more on the online romance group Twin Flames Universe: “Desperately Seeking Soulmate” and “Escaping Twin Flames.” In the past month or so there has been “Love Has Won” on HBO and “Born Into Synanon,” on Paramount+. This is nowhere near a comprehensive list.So what’s to account for our apparently bottomless appetite for such tales? (Streamers wouldn’t keep making them if nobody was watching.) Well, on a purely craven level, these stories are juicy as hell — sex, love, murder, redemption, ecstatic connections and a rending of the social fabric. Money, money, money. You’d be crazy not to make a documentary about all of it, about all the weird hairdos and strange lingo, all the anguish and absurdity.But the volume and repetition perhaps reflects a broader, persistent sense of unease, a need to ask, over and over: How in the world do people believe things like this? Why do people worship lies? Is there a way to show them the light?Oh, gosh, if anyone knew the answer to that, we’d be living in a very different world. Individually, these documentaries demonstrate that lots of people believe lots of garbage. Taken as a whole body, though, they suggest that, actually, nearly everyone believes at least a little garbage.Some of the better documentaries stress the relationship between high-control groups and general social ills: “Seduced,” the shorter but more perceptive Nxvim documentary, highlights the misogyny that drove much of the organization. “The Way Down” traces an Evangelical leader’s message from intense body shaming to even more intense advocacy for corporal punishment.The less curious instantiations, which present the leaders’ hectoring and philosophizing at length, can start to feel misguided. They’re like those 1990s girls-magazine articles about the dangers of eating disorders that also doubled as how-to guides for budding anorexics.But even as quality and particulars vary, there is a sameness to a lot of these shows. Subjects ready themselves and chat to off-camera producers. We see joyous footage of the early days, and then usually an ex-member says, “Or that’s what I thought,” or sometimes, “But then things started to change.” Some former members are horrified by what they’ve done, and others want to make sure the story includes the good parts, too, or they even still believe. Sometimes family members describe their heartache.Many of these groups have already been the subjects of at least one podcast or article before making the leap to television. If you’re interested in high-control groups in general, this can make the TV documentaries feel even more repetitive.In format, perspective, style and distribution, the contemporary cult exposé nestles in comfortably with two other recent booms: true crime and scam sagas. Cults are also adjacent to conspiracies, another growth industry — both are forms of tribalism defined by their distance from reality. Synanon and the like sit alongside stories of Theranos, crypto frauds, pyramid schemes and QAnon not just on streaming services, but also within the greater misinformation and disinformation diaspora.“Wild Wild Country” was a hit for Netflix in 2018.NetflixThere’s a gawking appeal to this programming, of course, and a reasonable desire to hold people accountable for causing so much despair. But after spending hundreds of hours hearing from all sorts of devotees, what becomes clear is that participation in a cult is often a response to the sorrows of the world, to its shortcomings and capricious cruelty, to being stuck or maligned or afraid. No, we are not all equally susceptible to undue influence, but if you’ve ever bought something because of advertising, easy does it on that high horse.In “Escaping Twin Flames,” a former member says her deconstruction occurred when the leader told her to write a report on the two Nxivm documentaries to affirm the ways he was not a cult leader. “Every point we were coming across when we were doing this research was pointing to the fact that he was, in fact, a cult leader,” she says. “Things started to churn at that point.”Perhaps things start to churn for viewers, too. The drive to understand others is also a drive to understand ourselves. Could it be that the appeal of cult stories partly reflects a desire to deconstruct pernicious control in our own lives? Or to at least reconsider the extent to which we’ve substituted the standards of capitalism, patriarchy, diet culture, consumerism, improv comedy, whatever, for our own? If we can nail down how other people get fooled and then unfooled, then maybe we’d know what to do when something seems not quite right.It is scary when you begin to think that the institutions, leaders and premises that define your life and way of thinking may be corrupt and illegitimate. But maybe if you could watch, oh, hundreds of people in a variety of smaller contexts on every streaming platform and cable network go through that process, the path forward would become a little clearer. You would have some idea of where to head. You might feel less isolated. Actually, maybe we could watch together. In fact, we could form a little group. More

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    The Artists We Lost in 2023, in Their Words

    The many creative people who died this year built their wisdom over lives generously long or much too short, through times of peace and periods of conflict. Their ideas, perspectives and humanity helped shape our own: in language spoken, written or left unsaid; in notes hit, lines delivered, boundaries pushed. Here is a tribute to just some of them, in their voices.“I never considered giving up on my dreams. You could say I had an invincible optimism.”— Tina Turner, musician, born 1939 (Read the obituary.)“Hang on to your fantasies, whatever they are and however dimly you may hear them, because that’s what you’re worth.”— David Del Tredici, composer, born 1937 (Read the obituary.)“Ever since I can remember, I have danced for the sheer joy of moving.”— Rena Gluck, dancer and choreographer, born 1933 (Read the obituary.)“The stage is not magic for me. It never was. I always felt the audience was waiting to see that first drop of blood.”— Lynn Seymour, dancer, born 1939 (Read the obituary.)Paul Reubens.Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images“Most questions that are asked of me about Pee-wee Herman I don’t have a clue on. I’ve always been very careful not to dissect it too much for myself.”— Paul Reubens, actor, born 1952 (Read the obituary.)“If you know your voice really well, if you’ve become friends with your vocal apparatus, you know which roles you can sing and which you shouldn’t even touch.”— Grace Bumbry, opera singer, born 1937 (Read the obituary.)“Actors should approach an audition (and indeed, their careers) with the firm belief that they have something to offer that is unique. Treasure who you are and what you bring to the audition.”— Joanna Merlin, actress, born 1931 (Read the obituary.)Glenda Jackson.Evening Standard/Hulton Archive, via Getty Images“If I have my health and strength, I’m going to be the most appalling old lady. I’m going to boss everyone about, make people stand up for me when I come into a room, and generally capitalize on all the hypocrisy that society shows towards the old.”— Glenda Jackson, actress and politician, born 1936 (Read the obituary.)“I don’t see myself as a pioneer. I see myself as a working guy and that’s all, and that is enough.”— William Friedkin, filmmaker, born 1935 (Read the obituary.)“Some people, every day you get up and chop wood, and some people write songs.”— Robbie Robertson, musician, born 1943 (Read the obituary.)“I wasn’t brought up in Hollywood. I was brought up in a kibbutz.”— Topol, actor, born 1935 (Read the obituary.)Jimmy Buffett.Michael Putland/Getty Images“I don’t play at my audience. I play for my audience.”— Jimmy Buffett, musician, born 1946 (Read the obituary.)“I’m still not a natural in front of people. I’m shy. I’m a hermit. But I’m learning a little more.”— Andre Braugher, actor, born 1962 (Read the obituary.)“Some poets do not see reaching many in spatial terms, as in the filled auditorium. They see reaching many temporally, sequentially, many over time, into the future, but in some profound way these readers always come singly, one by one.”— Louise Glück, poet, born 1943 (Read the obituary.)“I paint because I believe it’s the best way that I can pass my time as a human being. I paint for myself. I paint for my wife. And I paint for anybody that’s willing to look at it.”— Brice Marden, artist, born 1938 (Read the obituary.)“Writing is about generosity, passing on to other people what you’ve had the misfortune of having to find out for yourself.”— Fay Weldon, author, born 1931 (Read the obituary.)Ryuichi Sakamoto.Ian Dickson/Redferns, via Getty Images“I went to see one of those pianos drowned in tsunami water near Fukushima, and recorded it. Of course, it was totally out of tune, but I thought it was beautiful. I thought, ‘Nature tuned it.’”— Ryuichi Sakamoto, composer, born 1952 (Read the obituary.)“I hate everything that is natural, and I love the artificial.”— Vera Molnar, artist, born 1924 (Read the obituary.)“A roof could be a roof, but it also could be a little garden.”— Rafael Viñoly, architect, born 1944 (Read the obituary.)“True architecture is life.”— Balkrishna Doshi, architect, born 1927 (Read the obituary.)Sinead O’Connor.Duane Braley/Star Tribune, via Getty Images“Words are dreadfully powerful, and words uttered are 10 times more powerful. The spoken word is the science on which the entire universe is built.”— Sinead O’Connor, musician, born 1966 (Read the obituary.)“Before I can put anything in the world, I have to wait at least a couple of years and edit them. Nothing is going out that hasn’t been edited a dozen times.”— Robert Irwin, artist, born 1928 (Read the obituary.)“An editor is a reader who edits.”— Robert Gottlieb, editor and author, born 1931 (Read the obituary.)Matthew Perry.Reisig & Taylor/NBCUniversal, via Getty Images“Sometimes I think I went through the addiction, alcoholism and fame all to be doing what I’m doing right now, which is helping people.”— Matthew Perry, actor, born 1969 (Read the obituary.)“It was the period of apartheid. You know, it was very hard, very difficult and very painful — and many a time I felt, ‘Shall I continue with this life or shall I go on?’ But I continued. I wanted to dance.”— Johaar Mosaval, dancer, born 1928 (Read the obituary.)“God would like us to be joyful / Even when our hearts lie panting on the floor.” (“Fiddler on the Roof”)— Sheldon Harnick, lyricist, born 1924 (Read the obituary.)“I remember back in the day, saying it’s so cool that the Beatles, Stevie Wonder, David Bowie are still played. That’s what we wanted hip-hop to be.”— David Jolicoeur, musician, born 1968 (Read the obituary.)“Civilization cannot last or advance without culture.”— Ahmad Jamal, musician, born 1930 (Read the obituary.)Harry Belafonte. Phil Burchman/Hulton Archive, via Getty Images“Movements don’t die because struggle doesn’t die.”— Harry Belafonte, singer and actor, born 1927 (Read the obituary.)“Some people say to artists that they should change. Change what? It’s like saying, ‘Why don’t you walk differently or talk differently?’ I can’t change my voice. That’s the way I am.”— Fernando Botero, artist, born 1932 (Read the obituary.)“Performing is my way of being part of humanity — of sharing.”— André Watts, pianist, born 1946 (Read the obituary.)Renata Scotto.Evening Standard/Hulton Archive, via Getty Images“Singing isn’t my whole life.”— Renata Scotto, opera singer, born 1934 (Read the obituary.)“It’s through working on characters in plays that I’ve learned about myself, about how people operate.”— Frances Sternhagen, actress, born 1930 (Read the obituary.)David Crosby.Mick Gold/Redferns, via Getty Images“I don’t know if I’ve found my way, but I do know I feel happy.”— David Crosby, musician, born 1941 (Read the obituary.)“I’m very abstract. Once it becomes narrative, it’s all over. Let the audience decide what it’s about.”— Rudy Perez, choreographer, born 1929 (Read the obituary.)“I don’t have a driven desire actually to be in the act of writing. But my response to any form of excitement about reading is to want to write.”— A.S. Byatt, author, born 1936 (Read the obituary.)“I don’t think I ever wrote music to react to other music — I really had a very strong need to express myself.”— Kaija Saariaho, composer, born 1952 (Read the obituary.)Richard Roundtree.Celeste Sloman for The New York Times“Narrow-mindedness is alien to me.”— Richard Roundtree, actor, born 1942, though some sources say 1937 (Read the obituary.)“The reason I’ve been able to dance for so long is absolute willpower.”— Gus Solomons Jr., dancer and choreographer, born 1938 (Read the obituary.)“My practice is a resistance to the glamorous art object.”— Phyllida Barlow, artist, born 1944 (Read the obituary.)“My lifetime ambition has been to unite the utmost seriousness of question with the utmost lightness of form.”— Milan Kundera, author, born 1929 (Read the obituary.)Mary Quant.Hulton Archive/Getty Images“The most extreme fashion should be very, very cheap. First, because only the young are daring enough to wear it; second, because the young look better in it; and third, because if it’s extreme enough, it shouldn’t last.”— Mary Quant, fashion designer, born 1930 (Read the obituary.)“I spontaneously enter the unknown.”— Vivan Sundaram, artist, born 1943 (Read the obituary.)“The goal is to wander, wander through the unknown in search of the unknown, all the while leaving your mark.”— Richard Hunt, artist, born 1935 (Read the obituary.)Angus Cloud.Pat Martin for The New York Times“Style is how you hold yourself.”— Angus Cloud, actor, born 1998 (Read the obituary.)“I have an aura.”— Barry Humphries, actor, born 1934 (Read the obituary.)“Intensity is not something I try to do. It’s just kind of the way that I am.”— Lance Reddick, actor, born 1962 (Read the obituary.)Alan Arkin.Jerry Mosey/Associated Press“There was a time when I had so little sense of myself that getting out of my skin and being anybody else was a sigh of relief. But I kind of like myself now, a lot of the times.”— Alan Arkin, actor, born 1934 (Read the obituary.)“I have always thought of myself as a kind of vessel through which the work might flow.”— Valda Setterfield, dancer, born 1934 (Read the obituary.)“You spend a lot of time thinking about how to write a book, you probably shouldn’t be talking about it. You probably should be doing it.”— Cormac McCarthy, author, born 1933 (Read the obituary.)Elliott Erwitt.Steven Siewert/Fairfax Media, via Getty Images“In general, I don’t think too much. I certainly don’t use those funny words museum people and art critics like.”— Elliott Erwitt, photographer, born 1928 (Read the obituary.)“Every morning we leave more in the bed: certainty, vigor, past loves. And hair, and skin: dead cells. This ancient detritus was nonetheless one move ahead of you, making its humorless own arrangements to rejoin the cosmos.” (“The Information”)— Martin Amis, author, born 1949 (Read the obituary.)Magda Saleh.Vincent Tullo for The New York Times“I did not do it on my own.”— Magda Saleh, ballerina, born 1944 (Read the obituary.)“The word ‘jazz,’ to me, only means, ‘I dare you.’”— Wayne Shorter, musician, born 1933 (Read the obituary.)“What is a jazz singer? Somebody who improvises? But I don’t: I prefer simplicity.”— Astrud Gilberto, singer, born 1940 (Read the obituary.)“It’s who you are when time’s up that matters.”— Anne Perry, author, born 1938 (Read the obituary.)“When I think about my daughter and the day that I move on — there is a piece of me that will remain with her.”— Ron Cephas Jones, actor, born 1957 (Read the obituary.)“Let us encourage one another with visions of a shared future. And let us bring all the grit and openheartedness and creative spirit we can muster to gather together and build that future.”— Norman Lear, television writer and producer, born 1922 (Read the obituary.)Tony Bennett.Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images“Life teaches you how to live it if you live long enough.”— Tony Bennett, musician, born 1926 (Read the obituary.)Photographs at top via Getty Images. More

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    The World Has Finally Caught Up to Colman Domingo

    Colman Domingo was at the Equinox on 43rd Street and Fifth Avenue when his agent called. A rush of hope overtook him: After a week spent auditioning for eight film and television roles, finally he was about to get something.This was in 2014, which Domingo experienced as a year of incredible highs and dangerously low lows. He had just come off a successful, soul-enriching transfer of the stage musical “The Scottsboro Boys” in London, but upon returning to New York, he felt quickly cut down to size. Despite his Tony nomination for the Kander and Ebb musical, Domingo was stuck auditioning for “under-fives,” screen roles that had little more to offer than a line or two. Still, he felt backed into a corner, praying that one of them would hit.The most promising was a callback for HBO’s Prohibition-era drama “Boardwalk Empire”: To audition for a maître d’ at a Black-owned nightclub, Domingo had donned a tuxedo to sing and tap dance for the producers. You can imagine how he felt, then, when his agent began that call at the gym by saying that everyone on “Boardwalk Empire” had loved his audition. This is the one that’s going to change it up for me, Domingo thought. This is the one that’s going to finally be my big break.There was just one problem, his agent said. After the callback, a historical researcher on the show reminded producers that the maître d’s in those nightclubs were typically light-skinned, and Domingo was not. “Boardwalk Empire” had passed.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?  More

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    What to Know About ‘Maestro’: A Guide to Bradley Cooper’s Bernstein Biopic

    Now on Netflix, the movie tracks the life of the American conductor and composer and his wife, the actress Felicia Montealegre, played by Carey Mulligan.Pop quiz: Who wrote the score for Bradley Cooper’s new Leonard Bernstein biopic, “Maestro”?Trick question: Bernstein. But you might not realize it, or learn of some of his more lasting accomplishments (“West Side Story” erasure!), even after watching the entire film, which focuses on the personal life of the prodigiously talented musician.Which is to say, the film — which Cooper directed and starred in, and which is now streaming on Netflix — does not hand-hold. It assumes some basic familiarity with one of America’s most storied conductors and composers. Here’s a guide to help you get up to speed.His careerWhat is Bernstein best known for?One of the rare virtuosos to compose for musical theater, write classical music and conduct august bodies like the New York Philharmonic, Bernstein is probably best remembered as the composer of the 1957 musical “West Side Story.”The Manhattan-set tale of urban gang warfare in New York City, based on “Romeo & Juliet,” includes standards like “Tonight,” “I Feel Pretty” and the aching, wistful “Maria.” The classic show, a collaboration with Arthur Laurents, who wrote the book, and Stephen Sondheim, who penned the lyrics, won two Tony Awards in its original incarnation.In his day, Bernstein was known first and foremost as an animated, passionate conductor. After his spectacular fill-in debut at the Philharmonic at age 25 in 1943 — on just a few hours’ notice, because the scheduled guest conductor fell ill — Bernstein would be affiliated with the orchestra for four decades and conduct symphonies around the world.He also wrote classical music, including three symphonies, “Jeremiah,” “The Age of Anxiety” and “Kaddish,” and made the classical realm accessible to ordinary Americans through his Young People’s Concerts. Those televised lectures, which ran on CBS for 14 years, covered a broad range of subjects including humor in music, and the composers Gustav Mahler and Igor Stravinsky.What is Tanglewood?Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and its training academy in the Berkshire Hills in Massachusetts, is where Bernstein studied with Serge Koussevitzky, then the director of the ensemble. The two met in 1940, when Koussevitzky selected a 22-year-old Bernstein as one of three inaugural conducting fellows for the Berkshire Music Center, now known as the Tanglewood Music Center.Bernstein went on to teach and perform there nearly every summer for 50 years, becoming the head of orchestral conducting at Tanglewood after Koussevitzky died in 1951. In 1990, Bernstein led the final performance of his life there — a gripping account of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony.How much of the film’s score is Bernstein’s music?That cue you hear when Bernstein finds out he’ll be making his conducting debut at the New York Philharmonic? That’s from “On the Waterfront,” the 1954 Marlon Brando drama for which Bernstein wrote the music. That spiky, horn-filled composition that signals tension when Bernstein and a male lover arrive at the family’s Connecticut home? That’s the prologue from “West Side Story.”In fact, most of the music you hear was written by Bernstein. (Also see if you can spot classical excerpts from his ballets “Facsimile” and “Fancy Free,” his opera “A Quiet Place,” and parts of his second and third symphonies.)His personal lifeWas Bernstein gay or bisexual?Though he was married to his wife, the actress Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan), for 26 years, he had numerous relationships — with both men and women — before and during their marriage, and after her death in 1978.The film focuses on two of them — his dalliance with the clarinetist David Oppenheim (Matt Bomer), whose bottom Bernstein slaps at the beginning of the film, and the musician Tom Cothran (Gideon Glick), whom he steals kisses with at a party and brings to his Connecticut home.What was society’s attitude toward gay people at the time?Anti-gay prejudice was rampant in America in the 1940s and 1950s, and the Lavender Scare — a fear that homosexual people had infiltrated the federal government and were a threat to national security — led to the dismissal of gay and lesbian employees, and those assumed to be, en masse. Gay, lesbian and transgender people — particularly public figures — faced intense pressure to conceal their identities, and Bernstein worried that the public revelation of his sexual orientation would hurt his conducting prospects.Did Montealegre know Bernstein was gay or bisexual when she married him?Yes, according to a letter she wrote to him the year after they were married, which the couple’s children discovered after her death. “You are a homosexual and may never change,” she wrote, adding later, “I am willing to accept you as you are, without being a martyr.” She went on to tell him, “Let’s try and see what happens if you are free to do as you like, but without guilt and confession.”Was Bernstein open about his affairs with men?At first, he was discreet, heeding Montealegre’s request to not embarrass her publicly. But, as “Maestro” shows, he became “sloppy” later or, rather, decided that he no longer wanted to hide what he viewed as a fundamental part of himself amid society’s changing attitudes.In 1976, he briefly left Montealegre to live openly with his boyfriend, Cothran, though he returned to her a year later when she learned she had lung cancer and cared for her until she died at age 56.What did Bernstein say about his sexuality?Nothing, at least, publicly. But privately, he suffered through years of therapy, apparently in the hope that he could be “cured” of his attraction to men. That desire lasted a lifetime: “I have been engaged in an imaginary life with Felicia,” he wrote in a letter to his sister, Shirley, from Israel in 1950, “having her by my side on the beach as a shockingly beautiful Yemenite boy passes.”Did Bernstein love his wife?Bernstein was “a gay man who got married,” his “West Side Story” collaborator Arthur Laurents once said in response to the assumption that Bernstein, who had three children with Montealegre, was bisexual. “He wasn’t conflicted about his sexual orientation at all. He was just gay.”But what is clear, from their children’s memories and from Bernstein’s own letters, is that he and Montealegre had an abiding affection for one another, and that their relationship was built on tenderness and mutual respect.“Bernstein absolutely loved her — there was no question about that,” Paul R. Laird, the author of “Leonard Bernstein,” a 2018 biography, recently told Time magazine. “It was as sincere a marriage as you’re going to get between a male homosexual and a woman at a time when a lot of male homosexuals married women.”Bernstein’s oldest daughter, Jamie, has spoken about her parents’ friendship. “They were really great friends, and probably that counts for the most in the long run, that they could still make each other laugh,” she said in a 1997 PBS interview.How did Bernstein die?He had received an emphysema diagnosis in his mid-20s — he would struggle with addiction to cigarettes and alcohol for most of his life — and died on Oct. 14, 1990, at 72, of a heart attack caused by lung failure.He was often depressed in his later years, intimidated that he would be best remembered as a conductor, resigned to the fact that he could never live up to the success of “West Side Story,” and guilty about his wife’s death from cancer, which he held himself responsible for. More

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    Colbert Cheers G.O.P. Chaos as Trump Banned From Colorado Ballot

    Stephen Colbert likened the current state of the Republican primary to grocery “shopping carts that are shaped like cars so the kids can pretend they’re driving.”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.What’s the Alternative?Despite former President Donald Trump potentially being off the primary ballot in Colorado for 2024, Republicans are still supporting his candidacy while other candidates compete to be runner-up.“Right now, the Republican primary is like when you go to the grocery store and they have those shopping carts that are shaped like cars so the kids can pretend they’re driving,” Stephen Colbert said on Thursday’s “Late Show.”“According to a new poll, 54 percent of Americans approve of Colorado kicking Trump off the ballot, including — including a shocking 24 percent of Republicans. But MAGA conservatives are officially P.O.’d about it, and some of them are seeking vengeance against the guy who did not do it, because Republicans are threatening to take Joe Biden off the ballot in states they control. Yes, they’re going to kick him off the ballot for the same constitutionally sound reason they’re impeaching him — I don’t know.” — STEPHEN COLBERT“Of course, there’s no guarantee Trump’s even going to be the nominee. And there’s been a huge shake-up in the Republican primary because, according to the polls, Nikki Haley has surged into second place behind Trump in Iowa. Yaaass, queen! It is so important to show little girls out there that they, too, can never be president.” — STEPHEN COLBERTThe Punchiest Punchlines (Winter Solstice Edition)“Well, everyone, today is officially the first day of winter, and it was also the shortest day of the year. Yeah, it was fun around 3 p.m. when you weren’t sure whether to take DayQuil or NyQuil.” — JIMMY FALLON“Happy winter solstice, everybody — unless you’ve got seasonal affective disorder, in which case, hang in there! Tomorrow is going to be three seconds longer.” — STEPHEN COLBERT“One popular solstice tradition is to dance around a bonfire, but I already did my drunken fire dance two nights ago when Colorado kicked Trump off the ballot.” — STEPHEN COLBERTThe Bits Worth WatchingSeth Meyers revisited an old Playboy interview with Trump from 1990 for his last “A Closer Look” segment of 2023.Also, Check This OutAndrew Scott in “All of Us Strangers.”Chris Harris/Searchlight PicturesAndrew Scott plays a man alienated from himself and looking for answers in Andrew Haigh’s new film, “All of Us Strangers.” More

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    ‘Real Women Have Curves’ and ‘Heart Sellers’: Snapshots of Immigrant Lives

    A musical adaptation of “Curves” and a play about two Asian women becoming friends both look at immigrants’ experiences, with mixed results.Body positivity was not at all the cultural vibe in 1990, when Josefina López’s play “Real Women Have Curves” was new. There was a rebelliousness to its climactic strip-down scene, in which a group of Latinas sewing dresses in a roasting-hot Los Angeles factory peel off layers of their clothing and shed a bit of shame, reveling in their lived-in bodies.In the 2002 film adaptation starring America Ferrera, the scene is similarly feel-good — a refutation of everything the women know to hate about the way they look, because the world around them reinforces their self-loathing every day.In the new musical adaptation currently making its world premiere at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, Mass., under the direction of Sergio Trujillo, the scene becomes a skivvies-clad, song-and-dance display of female empowerment. A dressmaker’s dummy, tiled with mirrors, is lowered like a disco ball, and the show’s title figures in the lyrics. It’s an upbeat crowd-pleaser of a number.Yet in a musical that pushes body image to the periphery, bursting into defiant song about it feels oddly out of place. With a book by Lisa Loomer, music and lyrics by Joy Huerta and Benjamin Velez, and additional material by Nell Benjamin, this ungainly iteration of “Real Women Have Curves” is primarily interested in the tensions and vulnerabilities of immigrant life.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?  More