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    Book Review: ‘August Wilson: A Life,’ by Patti Hartigan

    The first major biography of the playwright recounts his life and boundless vision.AUGUST WILSON: A Life, by Patti HartiganIn 1986, David Mamet published his best book, a slim and semi-hardboiled treatise on theater and life titled “Writing in Restaurants.” This was decades before he became “the Kanye West of American letters,” as The Forward put it last year. Alas, the book was only vaguely about restaurants.Mamet’s title came back to me while I was reading Patti Hartigan’s biography of another essential American playwright, August Wilson. Wilson, who died in 2005, spent so much time lingering in diners that “Writing in Restaurants” is a plausible alternative subtitle for Hartigan’s “August Wilson: A Life.”Wilson was a large, bearded man, often in tweeds and a pageboy cap. He’d sit in the back with a cup of coffee and an overflowing ashtray. (He smoked five packs a day and didn’t pause while in the shower.) He’d write on napkins or receipts, whatever was handy.He wrote one early play, “Jitney,” in an Arthur Treacher’s Fish & Chips. As his fame grew, he’d find a place in each city where his plays were staged. He’d call this joint “the Spot.” In New York City, he liked the seedy charm of the Hotel Edison’s coffee shop, known to regulars as the Polish Tea Room. In Boston, it was Ann’s Cafeteria. In Seattle, Caffe Ladro. He’d bring newspapers, and sometimes a friend. Over breakfast he’d hold court for four or five hours at a time. It was his daily slice of experimental theater.Wilson was a raconteur, with an autodidact’s darting curiosity. He was born in Pittsburgh in 1945, to a single Black mother who raised him and his siblings largely on welfare checks. He mined that city, especially its historically African American Hill District, as if it were coal; he was tapping a seam. The family’s first house had no hot water and an outhouse in the backyard. Wilson dropped out of high school and had a brief stint in the Army. He educated himself in Pittsburgh’s libraries the way Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote that he did at Howard University: “three call slips at a time.”He thought he might be a poet. His early verse was ornate and indebted to Dylan Thomas; it made him a figure of gentle derision. He discovered Bessie Smith and the blues, and he fell sideways into theater. Amiri Baraka was a key influence; the poet, playwright and activist had come to Pittsburgh in 1968, at the height of the Black Power movement, and delivered a galvanizing speech. Wilson was 23 at the time.Baraka had founded the Black Arts Repertory Theater/School in Harlem in 1965. Wilson and his arts-world friends decided to start their own theater, which they called Black Horizons. No one volunteered to lead it, and Wilson was chosen by default. Material was needed, and Wilson began to write it. The words were simply there; the African American voices of an entire city came pouring out of him. His was a self-replenishing vision.This is the first major biography of Wilson, whose 10-play Century Cycle (also called the Pittsburgh Cycle) made him arguably the most important and successful playwright of the late 20th century. These plays, one for each decade of the 1900s, include “Fences” and “The Piano Lesson,” both of which won Pulitzer Prizes, as well as “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” and what might be his most electric play, “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone.”“Fences” and “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” became films starring, respectively, Denzel Washington and Viola Davis, and Davis and Chadwick Boseman. His plays provided career-boosting roles to Angela Bassett, Delroy Lindo and Samuel L. Jackson, among many others. They luxuriated in his language. He had a special gift for lowlife dialogue and camaraderie — the cries of characters craving to be understood.Hartigan is a former Boston Globe theater critic. Her book is an achievement: It’s solid and well reported. But it’s dutiful. It lacks ebullience and critical insight. The writing is slack and, by the second half, the clichés are falling so heavily you need a hat. A play is “a diamond in the rough” or “a well-oiled machine.” An event is, to grab just one example, “as likely as snow in July.”Yet Wilson’s story carries you along. Hartigan describes the then-novel system that Wilson and his most important director, Lloyd Richards, developed to nurture his plays. Before arriving in New York, they would open at a string of nonprofit regional theaters, in Minneapolis, Chicago, Seattle and elsewhere, allowing Wilson to make cuts (his early drafts tended to be unwieldy) and hone his material.Frank Rich, then the theater critic for The New York Times, was an essential early champion. This biography’s best set piece might be the lead-up to a public debate in the winter of 1997 at Manhattan’s Town Hall, between Wilson and a less generous critic, Robert Brustein of The New Republic. (Standing outside the theater, Henry Louis Gates Jr. called it the “Thrilla in Manila.”) The evening was moderated by Anna Deavere Smith. Even before the event, Wilson and Brustein had tangled over, among other things, color-blind casting, which Wilson had declared “an insult to our intelligence.” He thought developing Black playwrights was more important. Patti HartiganMarisa IhWilson never got over certain childhood racial slights. In one Pittsburgh store, only white shoppers received their purchases in paper bags. For the rest of his life, Wilson asked for anything he bought to be placed in one. He had a temper. He hated it when a waiter would say something like, “What’ll you have, boys?” He was light-skinned. His absent father was a white man. He disliked having this fact mentioned.Wilson was married three times and had two daughters. He was not an attentive father or husband; his work came first. His second daughter grew up referring to him as “the slippery guy.” He was also, Hartigan writes, a lifelong womanizer, a sexual locavore.Critics have noted the relative lack of strong women’s roles in his work. Some other Black playwrights felt his overweening success left them in the shadows — that American culture had room for only one of them.This book couldn’t have been easy to write. Wilson tended to have three or four projects going at once: a play in New York, one in development somewhere, a third he was starting to write. Hartigan is adept at keeping the lines straight.Wilson argued with his directors, and often with his actors. He delivered rewrites up to the last minute. He procrastinated. Everyone was forced to live on what they called “August Wilson time.” He never learned to drive.Wilson mostly avoided Hollywood. He knew too many talents who disappeared there. He turned down an offer to write the film “Amistad” for Steven Spielberg. He was a complicated man and, even in an imperfect book, it’s a pleasure to make his company.AUGUST WILSON: A Life | By Patti Hartigan | Illustrated | 531 pp. | Simon & Schuster | $32.50 More

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    What’s on TV This Week: ‘Outlander’ and ‘Hard Knocks’

    The Starz series comes back for a sixth season and the HBO documentary series on NFL training camp follows the New York Jets.Between network, cable and streaming, the modern television landscape is a vast one. Here are some of the shows, specials and movies coming to TV this week, Aug. 7-13. Details and times are subject to change.MondayCameron Diaz, Dermot Mulroney and Julia Roberts in “My Best Friend’s Wedding.”Tri-Star PicturesMY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING (1997) 8:10 p.m. on Starz Encore. In this movie, the sexual tension between Julianne Potter (Julia Roberts) and Michael O’Neal (Dermot Mulroney) (the ring-stuck-on-the-finger scene, if you know you know) makes the plot feel almost irrelevant. But, if we were to focus on plot, the story follows Julianne as she tries to end the marriage between her best friend, Michael, and his fiancée Kimberly Wallace (Cameron Diaz) before it has even started. The story is filled with mostly just shenanigans on the part of Julianne and culminates in an ending that is simultaneously happy and heartbreaking.THE GREAT AMERICAN RECIPE 9 p.m. on PBS (check local listings). If you took “The Great British Bake-off” but made it American and focused on cooking instead of baking, that would be this show. The eight-part competition series features cooks from all different parts of the U.S. who showcase their signature dishes.TuesdayHARD KNOCKS 10 p.m. on HBO. In mid-July, NFL players fly out to university campuses near home base for their respective teams and start the hard work that goes into training for the season. And since 2001, HBO cameras have been there filming one team as they prepare — this year the series focuses on the New York Jets. Most notably, sports fans will get a glimpse of the four-time MVP Aaron Rodgers as he begins his first season with the Jets.WednesdayErik Gunn, David Eigenberg and Tony Huynh in “LA Fire & Rescue.”Casey Dunkirk/NBCLA FIRE & RESCUE 8 p.m. on NBC. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you: that is Steve Brady (David Eigenberg) from “Sex and the City.” Perhaps even more important, it’s Lieutenant Christopher Herrmann from “Chicago Fire,” which has the same producers as this new docu-series that follows the days of firefighters at the Los Angeles County Fire Department. Wildfires, medical emergencies, crimes and accidents are featured in these episodes, and of course a station visit from Eigenberg.ThursdayFIGHT TO SURVIVE 8 p.m. on The CW. If you are a fan of “Survivor,” “Alone,” “Naked and Afraid” or “American Ninja Warrior,” you might be seeing some familiar faces on this show. Seventeen contestants, all alumni from those shows, are sent to a remote tropical island to try to survive for a chance to win $250,000 in this quasi social experiment.THE CHALLENGE 10 p.m. on CBS. If you prefer a competition show that is perhaps not as harrowing but still has familiar faces, this might be the show for you, because honestly they aren’t that much different. Alumni from “Big Brother,” “Love Island,” “Amazing Race” and “Survivor” compete in physical challenges and have the chance to win $250,000. T.J. Lavin returns as host.FridayOUTLANDER 8 p.m. on Starz. We’re halfway through the seventh season of the show that originated in the World War II era and there are lots of loose ends to tie up. Spoilers ahead! As Claire (Caitriona Balfe) discovers the body of Jamie (Sam Heughan) on the battlefield, she learns that a second Battle of Saratoga is imminent, and Roger (Richard Rankin) makes a plan to time travel back to his son.MEN IN KILTS 9:35 p.m. on Starz. Not so dissimilar to some aspects of “Outlander” I suppose (you’ve definitely seen a kilt or two on that fictional show), this documentary series follows the actors Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish on a road trip to learn more about their heritage. In the first season they traveled around Scotland but now their travels are taking them around New Zealand.SaturdayJudd Nelson, Emilio Estevez, Ally Sheedy, Molly Ringwald and Anthony Michael Hall in “The Breakfast Club.”Universal Pictures/Everett CollectionTHE BREAKFAST CLUB (1985) 7:30 p.m. on CMT. If you grew up in the 80s or 90s there is a good chance you daydreamed about your crush coming to your window with a boombox propped on their shoulders (no? just me?) — and you can thank an iconic scene in this movie for that. Watching this will answer the question: What happens when you gather up the athlete, the brain, the bully, the princess and the loner and put them in detention together? In this movie “which he wrote and directed, John Hughes lets the kids challenge, taunt and confront each other as if this were ‘Twelve Angry Men,’” Janet Maslin wrote in her review for The New York Times.HEAVEN KNOWS, MR. ALLISON (1957) 8 p.m. on TCM. Keeping up with our theme of survivalist competition show (and World War II, for that matter), this fictionalized version puts Mr. Allison, a Marine corporal played by Robert Mitchum, and Sister Angela, a Roman Catholic nun played by Deborah Kerr, stranded on an island in the South Pacific. As they are in constant danger of enemy attacks, they are forced to hide and survive together.SundayBILLIONS 8 p.m. on Showtime. This show, which dives into the world of New York City banking and insider trading, is Showtime’s longest running drama. And this week, it is coming back for its seventh and final season. The most anticipated part of this season is the return of the main protagonist, the hedge fund manager Bobby Axelrod (Damian Lewis). When the character left in season 5, he was moving to Switzerland to avoid prosecution from the Attorney General of New York Chuck Rhoades (Paul Giamatti), so his return is likely going to be anything but smooth.TELEMARKETERS 10 p.m. on HBO. Though a documentary about telemarketers may not catch one’s attention, this is less about the practice of telemarketing and more about the true crime scheme two employees of a New Jersey call center were unknowingly covering up. The documentary follows them as they work to uncover the conspiracy that’s been a part of their day to day for the past 20 years. More

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    Mike Epps’s Favorite Things

    The star of the Netflix sitcom “The Upshaws” borrowed some of his comedic timing from Redd Foxx and was inspired to act from watching Denzel Washington.When Mike Epps was growing up in Indianapolis, his grandmother’s house was home base for the entire family.“My grandma had 11 kids. And some of those 11 kids had five or six kids each,” he said in a phone interview in July, before the SAG-AFTRA strike began, adding: “You got aunts and uncles and all them coming over and hanging out, checking each other out — a house full of people.”In time, her house also became the place the future comedian tried out his earliest material.“That was my first breaking ground,” he said. “My first experimental jokes were in that house among my cousins and my family and my people.”It is part of the inspiration for “The Upshaws,” Epps’s sitcom about a blue-collar family in Indianapolis whose new season becomes available Aug. 17 on Netflix.“If you look at the show, it’s my voice. It’s who I am. It’s my city, my friends, it’s my family. It’s my everything,” Epps said.He talked about some of the other components — the books, TV shows, unicycle — that make up his life. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.1‘Sanford and Son’I love “Sanford and Son.” That was a show that modeled itself from our people, from Black people. It was definitely a template of what we are and who we are. I watched it every day. I borrow a lot of timing from that show. Redd Foxx’s timing was impeccable, more than you could chew off.2ChessI play chess so well in my normal life that it’s almost hard to do it on the board sometimes. The game is a reflection of who I am and the decisions that I make. So, sometimes I can play the board game and see where I was delinquent in my life or see where I could move better or see the sacrifice. The game is very parallel to my life. So, when I’m playing, I’m thinking about those decisions.3‘Rich Dad Poor Dad’Robert T. Kiyosaki’s “Rich Dad Poor Dad” changed the way I thought about money and people with money. It also reinforced how I grew up. It’s easy to be poor when you don’t have a lot of goals. Once I started having goals of wanting more, it was over with. I was like: I got to have more in life. I deserve more. There is more. I don’t have to settle for being poor.4‘Creed’I have some positive jealousy about “Creed.” I can really box, but I was too old to be in the movie, and I think Michael B. Jordan did a great job. When you’re a Black man and you see a Black movie like that that is macho, you know, you want to be a part of it in some capacity.5UnicycleI love riding one wheel. When I was a kid, I always tried to find something that made me stick out and be different from everybody else. So I learned how to ride a unicycle — short and tall. When people see me riding it, they look at me like I’m crazy and say: “What the hell you doing? Why did you do that?” And then they try to get on it. That’s what it does to you.6Denzel Washington“Glory” was the first movie that I saw that inspired me. When I saw Denzel Washington, I was like, That’s what I want to do, right there.7Jackson Hole, Wyo.I’ve vacationed in Miami, the islands, all the tropical spots. But I’m a Black cowboy. I love the cowboy feeling of something. I love dirt. I love desert. Jackson Hole, Wyo., is a really quiet, subdued place. To get a cabin there in the summertime — oh, man, it is breathtaking.8Killer MikeIt’s always good to hear a voice in our community speaking the truth. Killer Mike is one of those guys that has been blessed to have that voice for our people. His songs are thought-provoking, they move you in a lot of ways. He’s touching on a lot of good points in the hip-hop industry, in the Black community itself, and white America.9Treasure HuntingWhen I’m out on the road telling jokes, the first thing I want to hit is a vintage store. I want to hit the vintage clothing store, and I want to hit the antique furniture store. You go to a store in one of these cities outside of where you live, man, and you find some jewels up in there. Some of these old people, they bring stuff in these places that you wouldn’t believe, and in perfect shape.10DetroitMy favorite city to perform in is Detroit. They have the most fun. They love to come out and celebrate. My audience in Detroit, man, they got fur coats on, they got diamonds, they got thick glasses on, the women are looking good — they sparkling. That’s my audience. More

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    Mark Margolis, Scene-Stealing Actor in ‘Breaking Bad,’ Dies at 83

    His character, an ex-drug lord in a wheelchair, was unable to speak, but Mr. Margolis, who also appeared in “Better Call Saul,” didn’t need dialogue to wield fearsome power.Mark Margolis, the prolific actor whose simmering air of menace as the fearsome former drug lord Hector Salamanca in “Breaking Bad” transformed the innocent ding of a bellhop bell into a harbinger of doom, died on Thursday in Manhattan. He was 83.His death, at Mount Sinai Hospital following a brief illness, was confirmed in a statement on Friday by his son, Morgan Margolis. Mr. Margolis lived in Manhattan.Mr. Margolis notched more than 160 credits in movies and on television, gaining particular notice with memorable roles in Brian De Palma’s “Scarface” (1983), playing opposite Al Pacino as a cocaine-syndicate henchman, and in the Jim Carrey comedy “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” (1994), in which he played Ventura’s aggrieved landlord with delicious malevolence.He also became a go-to actor for the director Darren Aronofsky, appearing in his films “Pi” (1998), “Requiem for a Dream” (2000), “The Fountain” (2006), “The Wrestler” (2008), “Black Swan” (2010) and “Noah” (2014).But no role made him as instantly recognizable to millions of viewers as Hector in Vince Gilligan’s critically acclaimed series “Breaking Bad,” which ran for five seasons on AMC, starting in 2008, starring Bryan Cranston, Aaron Paul and Anna Gunn, and in its prequel, “Better Call Saul,” which ran for six seasons starting in 2015, starring Bob Odenkirk and Giancarlo Esposito — two of the many actors who appeared in both shows — as well as Rhea Seehorn.The role, in “Breaking Bad,” brought Mr. Margolis an Emmy nomination in 2012 for outstanding guest actor in a dramatic series.An aging former drug cartel don from Mexico, Hector, also known as Tio, had come to live in a New Mexico nursing home, unable to speak or walk following a stroke but still firmly in control of his power as a rival to Walter White (Mr. Cranston), a mild-mannered high school chemistry teacher who evolves into a coldhearted kingpin in the crystal methedrine trade.Despite his lack of dialogue in “Breaking Bad,” Mr. Margolis proved a scene stealer from his wheelchair, his eyes bulging, his face trembling with rage, despite the nasal cannula pumping oxygen up his nose and his palm furiously banging his bell, taped to an arm of the chair, whenever he needed attention.“Everybody says, ‘My God it must be difficult to work without words,’” he said in a 2012 interview with Fast Company. “My joke is, ‘No. I’m already grounded in the fact that I’ve been acting without hair for years, and that’s not a problem. So, now I’m acting without words.’”As a young actor, he added, he had trained to communicate emotions without dialogue. He also borrowed mannerisms, including a tobacco-chewing motion with the side of his mouth, from his mother-in-law, who had been confined to a Florida nursing home after a stroke.As viewers discovered in “Better Call Saul,” which featured Mr. Margolis as an ambulatory and verbose Hector, the character had wound up in a wheelchair after a defector in his organization switched his medication to incapacitate him, leading to the stroke.Despite the character’s broken moral compass and hair-trigger rage, Mr. Margolis managed to evoke Hector’s complexity — his humanity, even.“You don’t play villains like they are villains,” he said in a 2012 interview with The Forward, the Jewish newspaper. “You play them like you know exactly where they are coming from. Which hopefully you do.”Mark Margolis was born on Nov. 26, 1939, in Philadelphia to Isidore and Fanya (Fried) Margolis. He attended Temple University briefly before moving to New York, where at 19 he got a job as a personal assistant to the method acting guru Stella Adler. He also took a class with Lee Strasberg at his famed Actors Studio.After making brief appearances on television shows like “Kojak” and in movies like the Dudley Moore comedy “Arthur” and Mr. De Palma’s “Dressed to Kill” (both from 1981), Mr. Margolis got his first taste of renown in “Scarface,” playing Alberto the Shadow, a bodyguard and hit man for Alejandro Sosa (Paul Shenar), the Bolivian drug boss who shows Mr. Pacino’s Tony the ropes in the cocaine business.Mr. Margolis, left, played a bodyguard and hit man for a mobster (Paul Shenar, right) in Brian De Palma’s movie “Scarface,” from 1983.Universal/courtesy Everett CollectionIn one slyly comic moment in “Breaking Bad,” Hector is seen watching on television a famous scene from “Scarface” in which Tony spontaneously shoots Alberto in the head when he learns that Alberto’s planned car-bomb murder of a nosy journalist would also kill the journalist’s wife and children.Despite his turns as a Latin heavy, Mr. Margolis, who was Jewish, did not speak Spanish, a point that earned him no shortage of derision from native speakers.“I’ve lived in Mexico,” he said in 2016 interview with Vulture, New York magazine’s culture site. “I know enough of the grammar of it, and I’m pretty good with the accent of it. If I get a good tutor, I can lock into it pretty quickly.”In addition to his son, he is survived by his wife of 61 years, Jacqueline Margolis; a brother, Jerome; and three grandchildren.In the years between “Scarface” and “Breaking Bad,” Mr. Margolis’s prodigious output made him a known actor, if not a famous one. “People will often come up to me and say, ‘You’re that wonderful character actor,’” he told The Forward, apparently half seriously. “But I’m not a character actor. I’m a weird-looking romantic lead.”Unlike most romantic leads, though, Mr. Margolis struggled at times to make a living. Fans, he told The New York Observer in 2012, “think that I’m some sort of rich guy, that everyone in the movies is making the kind of money Angelina Jolie is making.”He and his wife had lived in the same apartment in Manhattan’s TriBeCa neighborhood since 1975.At least his turn as Hector provided him with a dash of supplemental income at the show’s peak, after a messaging app called Dingbel appropriated Hector’s simplest bell command — one ding for yes, two for no. Dingbel hired him as a spokesman.As Mr. Margolis told Vulture: “I tell people I’m the second-most famous bell ringer after Quasimodo.” More

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    Leah Remini, Vocal Scientology Critic, Files Suit Against Church

    The lawsuit, which alleges a pattern of harassment and defamation, is a culmination of a decade of criticism of Scientology by Ms. Remini, an actress, since she broke publicly with the church.The actress Leah Remini, a former longtime member of the Church of Scientology who has been highly critical of the organization since leaving it in 2013, filed suit against the church this week seeking to end what she said were the “mob-style tactics” it had used to harass and defame her.The lawsuit, which was filed on Wednesday in Superior Court in Los Angeles County, lists the church as a defendant along with its Religious Technology Center, which the church describes as an organization formed to preserve, maintain and protect the religion; and David Miscavige, the chairman of the center’s board and the leader of the church.“For 17 years, Scientology and David Miscavige have subjected me to what I believe to be psychological torture, defamation, surveillance, harassment, and intimidation, significantly impacting my life and career,” Ms. Remini said in a statement on social media announcing the lawsuit. “I believe I am not the first person targeted by Scientology and its operations, but I intend to be the last.”The lawsuit says that she has been “under constant threat and assault” as a result of her public departure from Scientology. She is seeking a jury trial and unspecified damages for economic and psychological harm.In a statement, the church called the lawsuit “ludicrous and the allegations pure lunacy,” and described the move as Ms. Remini’s “latest act of blatant harassment and attempt to prevent truthful free speech.”During her three-decade acting career, Ms. Remini, 53, has appeared in dozens of TV shows, most notably as Carrie Heffernan in nine seasons of the CBS sitcom “The King of Queens.”The lawsuit is a culmination of a decade of criticism of Scientology by Ms. Remini, who has used her platforms to expose what she and many other former members say are the darker sides of the church, including the disappearance from public view of her friend Shelly Miscavige, Mr. Miscavige’s wife.Ms. Remini published “Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology,” a book about her experiences, in 2015, and hosted and produced an Emmy Award-winning documentary TV series “Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath,” which ran for three seasons starting in 2016.The lawsuit details the decades that Ms. Remini spent in Scientology and the events that led to her departure after what she says was a yearslong period of abuse. When she was 8, she “effectively lost” her mother to Scientology, the lawsuit says. When she was 13, she was forced to join the Sea Organization, or Sea Org, the corps of members who keep the church running, the lawsuit said.She was forced to sign a billion-year contract, in keeping with the church’s belief that Scientologists are immortal, and to perform manual labor, study the teachings of the church’s founder, L. Ron Hubbard, and undergo training that included “verbally, physically, and sexually abusive” practices, the lawsuit says.Some of the allegations involved a process known as a “truth rundown” that is meant to erase a Scientologist’s memories and implant new ones. The lawsuit says that Ms. Remini was sent to a facility in Florida for a truth rundown and that, “after months of psychological torture,” she was “nearing the point of psychotic breakdown.”After reporting an abuse allegation at a Scientology studio in Riverside, Calif., she left the organization in 2013.Shortly after she left the church, Ms. Remini filed a missing persons report about Ms. Miscavige, who has not been seen in public since 2007, the lawsuit said. The Los Angeles Police Department closed that investigation in 2014, saying that detectives had “personally made contact” with Ms. Miscavige and her lawyer.The lawsuit said that Ms. Remini was designated a “suppressive person,” or someone who leaves the church and is deemed its enemy by seeking to damage the church or Scientologists. That could include reporting crimes committed by Scientologists to civil authorities, the lawsuit said.The lawsuit says that, in addition to physical stalking and harassment, the church and the other defendants had conducted a decade-long “mass coordinated social media effort” against Ms. Remini, using hundreds of Scientology-run websites and social media accounts “to spread false and malicious information about her.”“People who share what they’ve experienced in Scientology, and those who tell their stories and advocate for them,” Ms. Remini wrote on Twitter, “should be free to do so without fearing retaliation from a cult with tax exemption and billions in assets.” More

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    ‘Heartstopper’ Season 2, Watched With L.G.B.T.Q. Teens

    Three British 16-year-olds took an advance look at Season 2. There was popcorn, giggling and more than a little eye-rolling.This week, the British coming-of-age drama “Heartstopper” returned to laptop screens all over the world. Based on Alice Oseman’s webcomics, the Netflix series follows a romantic relationship between two high school students, Charlie (Joe Locke) and Nick (Kit Connor), whose friendship group includes a young trans woman, Elle (Yasmin Finney), and a lesbian couple, Tara (Corinna Brown) and Darcy (Kizzy Edgell).The first season of this fizzy, feel-good show amassed 24 million hours of views in its first week, according to Netflix, and received glowing reviews from critics. But does it really reflect reality for British L.G.B.T.Q. teenagers? “It’s probably my only comfort show,” said Sharan Sahota, 16, as she settled into an armchair on a recent afternoon to watch the first four episodes of the new season. In “Heartstopper,” Charlie is outed as gay in eighth grade; Sahota, who identifies as pansexual, was also outed at school around the same age.“It wasn’t a pleasant experience,” she said, adding that seeing a similar ordeal depicted in “Heartstopper” has helped her feel less alone. “If they can get through it, and they’re living happily, so can I,” she said.Sahota, Oscar Wittams-Nangle and Ari Przytulski, all 16, recently gathered in London for a “Heartstopper” watch party. The trio — who attend a weekly youth club run by the charity Mosaic L.G.B.T.+ Young Persons’ Trust — discussed the show’s relevance and accuracy, as well as its surprisingly chaste attitude to sex. There was popcorn, giggling and more than a little eye-rolling.The following conversation has been edited for length and clarity, and contains mild spoilers.In this season, we see Nick struggling to come out as bisexual multiple times. How relevant is coming out to your generation?ARI PRZYTULSKI I think it’s still definitely relevant. Many kids still feel like they have to come out, especially to parents. I came out to my mum twice, first I was gay, then I was like, actually I’m trans.OSCAR WITTAMS-NANGLE Coming out is definitely a pressure. But at least for me, it was always an external pressure that came from other people, rather than something I felt I needed to do for me.SHARAN SAHOTA When you’re outed, you’re just like, “I can’t do anything.” The closet is just glass after that. But when you change environments, you don’t have to come out.PRZYTULSKI I understand why they wrote Nick feeling like he needs to come out to everyone in order to actually be out. But I feel like it would be a better message to show that you don’t need to. You can just exist as an L.G.B.T. person, and just be in a relationship without having to tell everyone that you are this way.From left, Felix (Ash Self), Naomi (Bel Priestley) and Elle (Yasmin Finney) at an art school.Netflix/Samuel DoreWhat do you think “Heartstopper” is doing that other L.G.B.T. films and shows aren’t?PRZYTULSKI What I like about the show is that it doesn’t overdramatize for shock value, or just to play with your emotions. It’s about gay people, but it’s not tragic. A lot of queer films just show how sad it is. Especially in shows like “Euphoria”: It’s all about how horrible everyone is and how everything just goes badly. In “Heartstopper,” people fix stuff by talking.WITTAMS-NANGLE “Queer as Folk” was released in 1999 in Britain. I saw a few reviews draw comparisons to that. And it’s like, not really: It’s not that the reviewers didn’t understand it, but it was definitely a result of them not having this sort of show when they were growing up. There aren’t that many cultural references that they can draw on.What do you make of the lack of sex in the show?PRZYTULSKI A lot of other shows focus way more on sex when it’s not all about that: It’s also your affection toward people. That’s why so many straight people misunderstand us. It’s not about being proud of liking boys, or whoever you like, it’s about the experience of being gay in a heteronormative society.WITTAMS-NANGLE It’s good that “Heartstopper” moves away from sexuality being purely about sex. It does mean more than that to me. It’s an identity, it’s a community. I think there are some things that are sanitized, but I wouldn’t say it would be the portrayal of sexuality.Locke and Connor in Season 2 of “Heartstopper.”Netflix/Samuel DoreWhich aspects are sanitized, do you think?WITTAMS-NANGLE The Harry character is very sanitized. Most queerphobic bullies say things that are a lot worse. I’ve had worse.SAHOTA In real life there’s a whole group of them.WITTAMS-NANGLE Exactly.PRZYTULSKI Whether it’s people staring at you, or it’s people outright harassing you, it’s a constant struggle. I understand why you wouldn’t want to include that in the show, because it’s meant to be a happy show.WITTAMS-NANGLE Also, it definitely is not easy in this country to be able to get gender affirming care, especially at our age, because you need to either have money, or luck.We don’t see Elle’s transition on the show.WITTAMS-NANGLE If you can get past all the waiting lists, all the appointments go well, then maybe you’ll get it on the N.H.S. [Britain’s National Health Service]. But, otherwise, there’s no chance. I think that is a struggle that isn’t shown in any media.Does it matter that the two main characters are two cisgender white boys?PRZYTULSKI I think it does. That’s one of the things that makes it less relatable to me as a trans woman. With Nick and Charlie both being white cis boys, it’s more digestible. They’re the default, and then there’s one variable, that they’re gay, or bi.WITTAMS-NANGLE Personally, I’m fine with it not being perfect, because there is absolutely no way you can make the perfect show for something which is as varied and as individual as living life as a queer person.Do you think “Heartstopper” is aiming for realism, or is it depicting an aspirational world?SAHOTA I think it’s a mix.WITTAMS-NANGLE Aspiration is the word. A lot of people don’t have accepting parents, or don’t have an accepting peer group, don’t have friends they feel comfortable coming out to. I watch the show and I’m like, “I wish my school could’ve been like that.”PRZYTULSKI They’re kissing a lot. They really were shoving each other into the wall. They’re in the middle of school and practically making out!WITTAMS-NANGLE It was quite funny, the changing room scene where they’re like, “We shouldn’t be kissing at school. We need to be discreet.” And they’re talking really loudly. Not doing very well on the discreet thing. More

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    The Playwright Who Changed the Face of American Theater

    Since 1965, the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center, tucked away in the bucolic seaside town of Waterford, Conn., has lured theater professionals every summer for the National Playwrights Conference. Named for the Nobel Prize-winning playwright who spent his childhood summers nearby, the O’Neill was initially informal and heady, but Lloyd Richards, who directed the 1959 Broadway production of Lorraine Hansberry’s “A Raisin in the Sun,” brought a sense of gravitas when he became artistic director in 1969.August Wilson first arrived at the O’Neill in 1982 with “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.” At 37, he was older than the others, but he presented himself as a neophyte who worked as a short-order cook. He had applied five times — and was rejected five times — but finally got his chance with “Ma Rainey.”During Richards’s era, the O’Neill became a haven for writers to test their work outside the commercial pressure of Broadway. Yet it was also a clubby place, with a regular company of actors and directors. Wilson didn’t immediately fit in, but by the end of the summer, he had developed an esprit de corps with his fellow playwrights.The O’Neill was a place, Wilson once said, where “you can fail and your life won’t disappear.” Writers mattered. They stuck up for one another in the way that playwrights today have supported the writers’ strike in Hollywood. It was at the O’Neill, after all, that Wilson got his ticket to the world of professional theater. “Ma Rainey” opened on Broadway in 1984, and Wilson, who died in 2005 at 60, went on to write his series of 10 plays about the African American experience in the 20th century.In 1983, Wilson returned to the O’Neill with “Fences.” The story of that summer is recounted here in this excerpt from “August Wilson: A Life,” an upcoming biography by Patti Hartigan, a former theater critic for The Boston Globe.AUGUST WILSON WAS SETTLING IN to the life of an itinerant playwright. He had been invited back to the O’Neill for the 1983 National Playwrights Conference for a workshop of “Fences,” and this time, he knew what to expect at the preconference weekend. He had one goal before he got on the van to Waterford. He needed to stock up on scotch. When he arrived at the pickup location, he spotted someone he had never seen before. He seemed unfamiliar with the routine, with the same apprehension that Wilson had experienced the year before. He was James Yoshimura, a writer from Chicago who had attended the Yale School of Drama. After a brief introduction, Wilson told Yoshimura that they needed to get some liquid sustenance in order to make it through the long weekend. Yoshimura was up for the chase. They found a store, pooled their money, and bought a large bottle of scotch. By the time the van deposited them at the mansion, they were smashed. And they became fast friends.“Fences,” Wilson’s Pulitzer Prize-winning drama, arrived on Broadway in 1987 after premiering in 1985 at Yale Repertory Theater. Both productions starred, from left, Mary Alice, Ray Aranha and James Earl Jones.Ron ScherlLike Wilson, Yoshimura was raised Catholic and came from a large family. His parents converted when they were forced to live in an internment camp for Japanese Americans during World War II. “That does not work for birth control,” Yoshimura said. “I am the middle of 11 children.” His family was one of only three Asian families in a predominantly German American Catholic parish on the North Side of Chicago. “You are the other,” he said of his childhood. “August could empathize with that. He knew what the ‘other’ was. We shared this friendship. It wasn’t like we would discuss Catholicism. This was just how we grew up. We never felt part of the mainstream of the faith that we were baptized into.”During his first year at the O’Neill, Wilson was stunned to see all the theater people hugging one another, but now he was one of them. He took it upon himself to initiate his new friend to the summer camp experience. “The bottle of scotch made the preconference much better,” Yoshimura said. And they were willing to share. “We made a lot of friends.” Yoshimura needed liquid encouragement to get through the process of reading his play aloud before strangers. He was there with “Ohio Tip-Off,” a drama about seven athletes on a minor-league basketball team who are vying to make it to the N.B.A. The team has four Black players and three white players. Wilson did not question his new friend’s subject matter, but he did question the way he read his play for the group. “I read my play very badly, and he laughed aloud about how bad I was — while we were still sharing our scotch.” Wilson did not tell Yoshimura that he had been at the O’Neill the summer before (nor that he had become the controversial star after the Frank Rich [review disguised as a feature] ran in The New York Times, nor that he was in discussions about bringing “Ma Rainey” to Broadway). When Yoshimura found out, he asked Wilson about it. “He was humble. He didn’t want to talk about it.”Wilson, who later went on to make strong public statements about the need for a Black director to direct a film version of “Fences,” nurtured Yoshimura. He never suggested that Yoshimura should not be writing Black characters. His friend played basketball, and he was writing what he knew. “All of our discussions were about aesthetics,” Yoshimura said. “It was never a matter of color. He was like, ‘If you write it, you write it. If it doesn’t work, you gotta fix it.’” Wilson told other playwrights the same thing over the years. Laura Maria Censabella, who was also a jazz singer, came to the O’Neill with her play “Jazz Wives Jazz Lives.” The characters included Black jazz musicians that she based on her friends and colleagues in the jazz world. Some at the O’Neill questioned whether she, as a white woman, should write Black characters. Wilson defended her; she was writing from her own experience. Because of his support, the griping stopped.Wilson had different issues with “Fences.” It clocked in at more than four hours when Wilson read it at the preconference. “My impression was, this guy can write, but he hasn’t heard of the two-hour limit,” Yoshimura said. “It took two hours to get through the first act.”Yoshimura was the perfect partner for Wilson at the O’Neill, where, in addition to learning about playwriting, he enjoyed the college experience he had never had. The two bonded over sports. Wilson was still obsessed with the 1965 boxing showdown between Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston. Ali unexpectedly knocked out Liston early in the first round, leading to suspicions that the fight was rigged. Wilson could dissect that match for hours, and Yoshimura was a willing audience.The Broadway revival of “Fences,” in 2010, featured Viola Davis, Denzel Washington and Stephen McKinley Henderson. They all went on to star in the 2016 film adaptation.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesWhen Yoshimura’s wife showed up to visit, Wilson made sure to teach their young son how to hit a baseball with a tree branch, a skill he had learned on the streets of Pittsburgh’s Hill District. They were improvising, onstage and off. This endearing friendship was formative for both men. Yoshimura had been told that he would succeed only if he wrote plays about Asian Americans, but Wilson assured him that was nonsense. Yoshimura tried to engage him on the subject of father-son relationships, since that is the foundation of “Fences.” Wilson, who was willing to talk about any subject for hours, shut down when asked about his father. Yoshimura intuited that his friend was “deeply wounded” and didn’t push the issue.Bill Partlan [the director of “Ma Rainey” the year before] was assigned to direct “Fences,” and Edith Oliver, the theater critic for The New Yorker, was the dramaturg. At the preconference, they both told Wilson that the play needed cuts. They made suggestions, but he said he wanted to see it first before excising any scenes or monologues. Wilson had never studied dramatic structure. He was learning fundamental rules such as the fact that an actor can’t be soaking wet in the rain at the end of one scene and then appear at the top of the next scene in fresh new clothing and dry hair.After the first performance, he stayed up all night and cut 45 minutes from the script. (Helen Hayes had been in the audience that night, and she left after the first act, reportedly saying, “I think I’ve had enough theater for one night.”) Wilson took out a long monologue about bones walking on water, a poetic piece of writing. Partlan told him to hold on to it. The monologue would be the foundation of a moving speech in “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone.”“Fences” revolves around the tragic hero, Troy Maxson, a former slugger in the Negro Leagues who never got a chance to play in the Major Leagues because of the color of his skin. At its heart, the play is about the confrontation between Maxson and his son Cory, a theme that Wilson had explored in “Jitney!” as well. At the end of the play, Troy dies, and his brother, Gabriel, who was wounded in World War II and is mentally disabled with a metal plate in his head, wants to send his brother off to St. Peter in heaven. He blows his trumpet, but no sound comes out. The stage directions say it all. “He begins to howl in what is an attempt at song, or perhaps a song turning back into itself in an attempt at speech. He finishes his dance and the Gates of Heaven stand open as wide as God’s closet.” With that, Gabriel lightens up and says, “That’s the way that go.”On the second night of the performance at the O’Neill, the fog from the Atlantic Ocean rolled in at the end of the play. This was a common occurrence. Eugene O’Neill wrote about the fog in his masterpiece, “Long Day’s Journey Into Night.” “How thick the fog is,” he wrote. “I can’t see the road. All the people in the world could pass by and I would never know.”At the O’Neill, the natural setting was magical. The weather changed just as Gabriel, played by Howard E. Rollins Jr., went to play his trumpet. “The fog came in, and the lights pierced through the fog,” Partlan said. “I sent Howard up the ramp that leads to the door in the barn to usher Troy into heaven. It was magic. I can still see and feel it today.”The wallop of that final scene became a sort of touchstone at the O’Neill. Other playwrights aspired to achieve that emotional depth. At the end of the preconference when Wilson first read his play, he and the playwright John Patrick Shanley got drunk together one night [a story that is recounted in Jeffrey Sweet’s “The O’Neill”]. Shanley said, “You son-of-a-bitch. You wrote that stage direction at the end of that play,” referring to Gabriel blowing the trumpet. “You son-of-a-bitch. Nobody can touch that.”A revival of “Fences” is running at Shakespeare and Company in Lenox, Mass., through Aug. 27. Hartigan will be there at the Aug. 12 matinee for a discussion about her book, which will be published by Simon & Schuster on Aug. 15. More

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    Everybody Dance Now! ‘Here Lies Love’ Dictates Your Moves.

    Engaging viewers’ bodies is central to this Broadway musical, a rare production that sets its audience in motion on the dance floor.Like many Broadway musicals, “Here Lies Love” involves a lot of dancing. Notably less common: how much moving is done by the audience.It isn’t unheard-of for a musical to tell the story of a dictator’s wife, but this one, with songs by David Byrne and Fatboy Slim, is distinctly focused on its subject’s dancing habits. Imelda Marcos — wife of Ferdinand Marcos, the longtime president of the Philippines — was fond of discothèques. Accordingly, the Broadway Theater has been half-converted into a club on the model of Studio 54. There is a giant disco ball and a D.J., and the orchestra seats have been stripped out so that up to 300 members of the audience can experience the 90-minute show while crowded on a dance floor.As at a disco, those standing can dance as they like. But they are also herded by wranglers in magenta jumpsuits with light-up wands like the ones used to direct taxiing airplanes. Wheeled platforms and runways are regularly rearranged around the floor area, displacing audience members. One cruciform platform is aptly called the Blender. It churns the crowd like batter.The rest of the audience is seated, above the dance floor and back into the depths of the mezzanine. But these viewers move, too, encouraged by the D.J. to join the standing folks in a simple line dance, picking up the moves from cast members spread throughout the theater on more platforms and catwalks. A lot of the story action happens up there, too.“The engagement of the audience’s body is highly unusual,” Annie-B Parson, the show’s choreographer, said. “And when you engage the body, you also engage the mind and the heart.”The choreographer Annie-B Parson: “The engagement of the audience’s body is highly unusual. And when you engage the body, you also engage the mind and the heart.”Naima Green for The New York Times“Here Lies Love” has developed over more than a decade in various incarnations, but dance and audience motion have been at the center of the conception from the start, said Alex Timbers, the director: “We didn’t want it to be interactive, with people pulled up onstage and feeling embarrassed. We wanted the audience to be moving as a unit so no one feels singled out.”The idea is to cast the audience in the drama as extras, Timbers said. They aren’t just dancers at the club. They are guests at the Marcos’s wedding; the public at political rallies and election parties; witnesses to the assassination of Benigno Aquino Jr., the Marcos’s rival; participants in the People Power Revolution that overthrew the dictator in 1986.“Your journey changes, just like America’s relationship with the Philippines,” Timbers said. “After Aquino’s assassination, you feel a little complicit in having danced at Imelda’s wedding.”Similarly, the D.J. telling everyone what to do is somewhat dictatorial. When Marcos institutes martial law, no audience member “is getting tortured or anything,” Timbers said, “but there is a metaphor at play physically.”“You watch the audience applaud,” Parson said, “and you watch them wonder why they’re applauding. It’s pretty Brechtian.”Development of the show has been a trial-and-error experiment in how to get audiences to move as the creative team wants. “You don’t have the same audience every night,” Timbers said, “so you’re looking at trends, at human nature.”Elaborate charts delineate how the wranglers can redistribute the crowd effectively and safely without being distracting. And since the people in the mezzanine face in one direction while those on the floor face in several, directing everyone to “step to the right” in a line dance isn’t a simple matter. (Well-placed performers and video screens help.)Parson, who has worked with Byrne on concerts tours and on his recent Broadway show, “American Utopia,” comes from the world of postmodern dance. She said that while Timbers “has a beautiful sense of the body and space,” he and she had opposing, if complementary, attitudes about the fact that no audience member of “Here Lies Love” could see everything.The director of “Here Lies Love,” Alex Timbers, said the idea was to cast the audience in the drama as extras.Justin J Wee for The New York Times“Alex worked really hard to share all the story material with everyone in the theater,” she said, whereas she was thinking about the composer John Cage’s philosophical idea that every seat in the house is perfect. “It becomes about perception. I love the experience of watching someone watch things that I might not be seeing. You feel things in your body that you may not see.”It’s a question of perspective, and not the only one. Many reviews of “Here Lies Love” and public objections to the show have focused on how the glamour and play of the club atmosphere rub against the show’s critique of the Marcoses.Parson said the context of disco — “an ecstatic dance form that tips quickly into despair” — is intentionally ambiguous. “Dancing is relative. You can use it for ill or for the greater good.”Imelda’s use of dance, what became known as her handbag diplomacy, “was embodied statesmanship,” Parson said. “She didn’t put a table between her and Nixon or Castro. She asked them to dance. She wasn’t a great dancer but that gave her a lot of power.”At one point, cast members act this out, wearing masks of famous political leaders. At other points, the choreography borrows a few of Imelda’s signature moves: circling her eye with two fingers, tapping the tops of her butterfly sleeves.The line dance, Parson said, was designed to be “fun and easy, something you could do in a chair if space was tight.” (“The Philippines have a really muscular tradition of line dancing,” she added, noting that the line dancing performed by the all-Filipino cast at parties is much more intricate.)Much of the choreography for the cast is more complicated, but mostly in tone, Parson said. In the title song, for example, Imelda tells the audience to remember her for love. “But let’s talk about the families she destroyed,” Parson said. “It’s a beautiful song, but it is ironic, so that’s how I choreographed it, with swinging umbrellas and sternum to the ceiling. You can’t take it straight.”Timothy Matthew Flores, who plays Aquino’s son along with other ensemble roles, said the detail of Parson’s choreography — “every single movement has a meaning” — made it more difficult than flashier and harder-hitting dance he’s done before. And running all around the large theater is “90 minutes of cardio.”But getting the audience out of their seats and dancing? That’s just fun, Flores said. “They start off shy and then they end up having a really good time. You can see them thinking, ‘Wow, this is not like any other Broadway show.’” More