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    In ‘American Rust,’ Buildings Crumble, Passions Burn

    The setting is both beautiful and ugly, resplendent and run-down. Green foliage wraps around rusting mills, no longer in use; steep hills drop off to the river, like the plummeting dreams of local residents.This is the Monongahela Valley, home to the new nine-episode Showtime series “American Rust,” debuting Sept. 12. Encompassing parts of Pennsylvania and West Virginia, the Mon Valley, as locals call it, is steel country, which means it has been hit hard in recent decades. Unemployment runs rampant. So does opioid abuse.Based on Philipp Meyer’s debut novel from 2009, “American Rust” tells a story of those who call the Mon home, those who want to leave and those who can’t seem to, no matter how hard they try.“It’s like a gravitational pull,” Jeff Daniels said in a recent video call from his Michigan home. Daniels plays Del Harris, the police chief of the fictional town of Buell, which the book situates about 30 miles south of Pittsburgh in Fayette County, Pa., near the real-life towns of Belle Vernon, Fayette City and Monessen.Maura Tierney plays Grace Poe, whose romance with the local sheriff, played by Jeff Daniels, becomes very complicated when her son becomes involved in a murder.Jared Wickerham for The New York TimesChief Harris lives a complicated life. He is in love with Grace Poe (Maura Tierney), who sews at a local dress factory and lives in a trailer on the verge of foreclosure. Grace’s son, Billy (Alex Neustaedter), who chose to stay in Buell instead of accepting a Division I football scholarship, keeps getting caught up in violent crime, including a murder.You could say the chief is compromised by his circumstances and passions.He isn’t the only one. Billy’s best (and perhaps only) friend, Isaac English (David Alvarez), is also the brother of the woman who broke his heart, Lee (Julia Mayorga) — and that may be the least of their friendship’s complications. Meanwhile, Isaac and Lee have troubles of their own: Their father (Bill Camp) was nearly killed in a mill accident, and their mother committed suicide by walking into the river with pockets full or rocks, like Virginia Woolf.Lee, though married and living in New York — she is the rare character in “American Rust” who has managed to escape — finds herself drawn back to Billy nonetheless. Isaac remains trapped at home, forced to care for an angry, wheelchair-bound father who constantly belittles him.Interior scenes of “American Rust” were filmed at 31st Street Studios, in Pittsburgh, the town once known as Steel City. Today it is a regional hub for the arts and tech. Jared Wickerham for The New York TimesJared Wickerham for The New York Times“Any one of these characters could pack up their car and just leave, but they don’t,” Daniels said. “Maybe they can’t. Maybe they’ve got nowhere else to go. They’re at the bottom.”Daniels’s road to Buell began over 10 years ago when he went to see Meyer read from his novel in New York. Daniels was struck by how Meyer located the humanity of characters who don’t get a lot of cultural shine, characters he knows from having spent most of his life in Michigan.“Nobody’s famous,” Daniels said. “Nobody’s trending. These are just everyday normal people that are in every corner of every county in this country.”Meyer grew up in a blue-collar area of Baltimore in the ’80s, when he watched various industries — textile, shipyards, steel, auto — slowly decline. “Violent crime was super high,” Meyer said from his home in Austin. “But it was also clear that you had this giant population of unemployed young men, guys in their 20s and 30s who had been laid off last year or four years ago or five years ago. The American dream had failed them.”Monessen, like the fictional town of Buell, has struggled since the local steel industry collapsed.  Jared Wickerham for The New York TimesBut for his first novel, he decided Baltimore, with its many industries, was too complicated for what he had in mind. When he visited Pittsburgh, where his brother was in college, Meyer realized, “This is where I put the story.”Soon after Daniels met Meyer, the actor was knee-deep in “The Newsroom” (2012-14) and other projects. But “Rust” never left his mind. His father, Robert Lee Daniels, had been the mayor of Daniels’s hometown, Chelsea, Mich., and owned a lumber yard. Daniels recognized the characters in “American Rust.”“I know these guys,” he said. “I know what they sound like. I know how they talk. I know how they think. I know how they walk. I live around them. This is their world.”So when he found the bandwidth, he sought out two writer-producers with whom he had worked on a TV adaptation of another acclaimed book, “The Looming Tower”: Dan Futterman and Adam Rapp. (They, along with Daniels, are among the executive producers.)Futterman, the showrunner of “Rust,” recalled the question Daniels asked: “‘If you love it, would you remind me what I love about it?’”Charleroi, Pa., is held up in the novel “American Rust” as an example of a Rust Belt town that is beginning to revitalize.Jared Wickerham for The New York Times“I told him that I loved what felt to me like a central theme of the book and something that I have written about before,” Futterman said from his New York home. “Can you both love somebody and use them at the same time?”Put another way, what terrible things are we willing to do in the name of love? And what kinds of things might a police chief overlook?The apple of Chief Harris’s eye, his moral blind spot, is Tierney’s Grace, who loves the chief but also knows he can come in handy.“I don’t know if anyone’s ever loved her, and I think she’s made a lot of choices based on that,” Tierney said in a video call from New York. “That’s an interesting person to try to get inside of.”“She’s had to really make her own way, every which way,” she continued. “Then she’s got this fierce devotion to her child, who I think she’s trying to compensate for somehow, but I don’t know if that’s the smartest thing to do. She’s a flawed person who’s trying to just keep her head above water.”Before the shoot, Daniels sent Tierney an email. “I’m not a big chatter,” he wrote, “but if you want to chat, I’m happy to do that. Or if you want to just jump off the cliff, let’s do that.”She wanted to jump off the cliff. And so did he.The ArcelorMittal coke works near downtown Monessen.Jared Wickerham for The New York Times“I don’t enjoy over-talking things,” she said. “We’ve both been doing this for a really long time. So it’s really enjoyable to just show up and know that your partner in the work is going to be prepared, and we just would let it fly.”As with any adaptation, “American Rust” took some intriguing detours on the way from page to screen. Grace is now a union organizer, quite a challenge in a company town where many workers are immigrants who don’t speak English. Isaac’s personal journey has been rerouted. His and Lee’s Mexican heritage has been more fully fleshed out. The story’s central crime is now a mystery, not only to most of the town but also to the viewers.While Meyer wasn’t involved with the series, he is thrilled with the results.“I don’t know if anyone’s ever loved her, and I think she’s made a lot of choices based on that,” Tierney said of her character. “That’s an interesting person to try to get inside of.”Jared Wickerham for The New York TimesDetails add authenticity to the wall of a set in Pittsburgh designed to look like a Mon Valley bar. Jared Wickerham for The New York Times“I’m pretty overjoyed that it has made it onto the air,” he said. “When people think of the middle of the country, maybe they think of ‘Yellowstone,’ which is a fun show but more fantasy than reality. This is the story of what’s happening to about half of America that we don’t really hear that much about.”There’s a sense in “American Rust” that everyone is doing his or her best, which isn’t always good enough in a land beset by fatalism and inertia. In researching the place and the people, Daniels came to see them for what they are — and aren’t.“They’re not just a bunch of hopeless addicts,” Daniels said. “Much like the people in the series that Danny pulled out of the book, these are good people who have to make bad choices just to either survive or to hold onto their dignity.”Pittsburgh, once known as Steel City, has a population of less than half what it was at its peak in the 1950s. Still, the city has been revitalized in recent decades, having successfully diversified its economy after the steel industry collapsed. Cast and crew shot interiors at 31st Street Studios, a home for dozens of film and TV productions to date. Futterman described a city in the midst of a tech and art resurgence, with a vibrant theater scene.It’s when you travel outside of Pittsburgh that you notice what’s gone. The economic downturn has left towns like Donora, Monessen and Rankin as shells of their former selves. This is where the bulk of “American Rust” unfolds and where much of the show was shot. (As in “Mare of Easttown,” another Pennsylvania gothic drama, the Rolling Rock and ruins abound.)“This is the story of what’s happening to about half of America that we don’t really hear that much about,” said Philipp Meyer, who wrote the novel on which the series is based.Jared Wickerham for The New York Times“There are some places where the steel mills are still going, and some where they’re just gone,” Futterman said. “In the town of Buell, it’s gone. The steel mill is shut down, and you can feel the reverberations of that throughout the town, and through all the people that are affected by it in some way.”And yet, the region retains a haunting beauty.“There are these steep drop-offs down to the river and all these steel bridges,” Futterman said. “There are a lot steel mills, some semi-functional, some rusting back into the ground right on the shores of the river. It’s not like other places I’ve been.”Meyer describes the landscape with stark lyricism in the novel: “The mill itself had been like a small city, but they had closed it in 1987, partially dismantled it 10 years later; it now stood like an ancient ruin, its buildings grown over with bittersweet vine, devil’s tear thumb and tree of heaven. The footprints of deer and coyotes crisscrossed the grounds; there was only the occasional human squatter.”It can seem desolate. But for Daniels, it all boils down to the most basic human emotions.“They’re all seeking love, and they’re capable of hate,” he said. “They’re capable of everything. When they’re backed up against the wall, these people are just trying to survive, doing whatever at that point, and trying to hang onto a sense of what’s right and what’s wrong. That’s what makes it interesting to me.” More

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    Andrea Constand on Her Memoir and Cosby's Overturned Conviction

    The call came just before noon.Andrea Constand had returned to her downtown Toronto apartment after walking her dog Maddy in a nearby park, when the Montgomery County district attorney’s office rang. Stand by, she was told, a ruling on Bill Cosby’s appeal could be handed down soon by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court.By this day, June 30, Constand, the woman whose account of sexual assault had led to the conviction of the man once known as America’s Dad was finding ways to move past the trauma that the trial had brought to her daily life. She had sold her apartment, was moving to the countryside north of the city and preparing to publish a memoir, “The Moment,” to detail her singular experience with Cosby and the criminal justice system.Though more than 50 women had accused Cosby of sexual misconduct, including assault, prosecutors had — for a variety of reasons — only successfully brought criminal charges in her case. And now Cosby was in prison far away, serving a three- to 10-year sentence in Pennsylvania after having been found guilty of three counts of aggravated indecent assault.He had already lost an appeal. The dust once kicked up by the trial, by the verdict, by the media attention, by the focus on her case as a breakthrough “moment” for the #MeToo era, had largely settled.About an hour later, the phone rang again.“Andrea,” said Kate Delano, the district attorney’s director of communications, “the Supreme Court has vacated his conviction.”It is perhaps an understatement to say that for Constand, and many others, the decision came as a shock. Cosby would not only be freed: The court also ruled he could not be tried again. Constand said she found it deeply unsettling that Cosby, still a man of means and influence, was out of prison, unconstrained and able to contact her and others.“I had a lump in my throat,” Constand, 48, said in a rare in-depth interview last month near her new home north of Toronto. “I really felt they were setting a predator loose and that made me sick.”Bill Cosby with his lawyers outside his home in a Philadelphia suburb after being released from prison.Mark Makela/ReutersConstand’s reaction to the court decision and her long experience with the case are detailed in the memoir, which is to be released Tuesday.Within minutes of the second call, Constand drove off, heading with her 22-year-old niece to her sister’s home outside Toronto, a trip that had been planned before the afternoon became untethered by the ruling. From the car, she spoke by phone with the two former prosecutors who had helped lead the case against Cosby, Stewart Ryan and Kristen Gibbons Feden. They explained that Cosby would no longer be officially designated as a sexually violent predator, a status that requires lifetime public registration and community notification — something that had afforded Constand special comfort.Andrea Constand said she has no regrets about pursuing the case, despite the court’s decision. “Society paid attention,” she said. Angela Lewis for The New York TimesAt her sister’s house, she watched on television as Cosby got out of a car at his home near Philadelphia, the mansion where, she had testified, Cosby assaulted her after giving her a sedative in 2004. From her sister’s back porch, she worked over the phone with her two lawyers, Bebe H. Kivitz and Dolores M. Troiani, to put out a statement expressing their disappointment.Her phone was otherwise blowing up with calls from friends and other women who had accused Cosby of sexual assault. Kevin R. Steele, the district attorney who had overseen the prosecution, had called earlier to say the decision did not take away from what she had achieved.Still she worried, she said, that other women might find it too hard to come forward now. “It was not just me,” she said, “it was the message that it would send to the rest of the world and other survivors, to say, why should I fight for justice, when it ultimately gets stripped down. It won’t matter.”The first trial in her case had ended with a hung jury. Cosby’s defense team insisted his encounter with Constand had been consensual. For the second trial, prosecutors were allowed to introduce testimony from five additional women who, like Constand, said that Cosby had drugged and sexually assaulted them.When the jury in the second trial found him guilty in 2018, many thought that, were there to be any appellate ruling, it would likely focus on whether it had been prejudicial to allow the women from other incidents to testify — evidence that prosecutors said showed a pattern of abuse.The book is being released on Tuesday.Penguin Random HouseBut the Pennsylvania Supreme Court ruled on different grounds, finding that the district attorney had been bound by what a predecessor had called a promise he made never to charge Cosby in the case. The predecessor said he had made the promise to persuade Cosby to testify in a subsequent civil action, which Cosby settled by paying Constand $3.38 million. During his testimony in the civil case, Cosby acknowledged giving women quaaludes as part of an effort to have sex with them, a statement that the June ruling said had been unfairly introduced at the 2018 trial.Constand does not mince her words when it comes to the Pennsylvania Supreme Court. She blames it for undoing all the work she and others had done to bring Cosby to justice and for “putting him on the street.”“After a few deep breaths, I just felt this is not my problem,” she said. “Now it made me feel the shame is on the Supreme Court. It’s not on me anymore.”The Pennsylvania Supreme Court said in its decision that it was upholding an important safeguard: Cosby’s due process rights had been violated. Its ruling was meant to prevent dangerous prosecutorial overreach.Constand said that for days after the decision she fielded emails, texts and phone calls from people who were irate about the ruling. Many were from women who say they too were assaulted by Cosby and who had viewed the 2018 guilty verdict as justice for themselves. Some were now her friends. “They were devastated, they were so angry,” she said.The book, just weeks from its release date, had to be updated. A publisher’s note described the ruling and said Cosby’s conviction had been overturned “on a procedural issue.”Constand and supporters celebrated after Cosby was found guilty in April 2018.Pool photo by Mark MakelaThe statement Constand had devised with her lawyers was added as were about 400 words to describe her reaction to the court’s decision.“We cannot let moments of injustice quiet us,” she wrote. “We must speak up again and again and again — until we arrive at a moment of real change.”The case accounts for roughly two-thirds of the 240-page book. Constand takes readers inside her tussles with defense attorneys, who cast her as a disappointed lover in the first trial and a gold digger in the second. She describes the connections she felt with jurors, the long stays in hotel rooms, the stress and the sacrifices her family had to make.She got through it, she writes, with the help of her poodles, her spirituality and tattoos that give her strength. (The word “truth” is displayed across the top of her chest, a large phoenix on her back.)The book spends some time on her childhood in Canada, her years as a basketball player at the University of Arizona and playing professionally in Italy. It also delves into her relationships and coming out as gay.The memoir discusses other parts of Constand’s life, such as her success as a high school and college basketball player.Ron Bull/The Toronto Star, via Associated In the memoir, Constand describes herself as “wearied and weathered by what happened to me” and writes that Cosby had robbed a joyful young woman, the product of a nourishing family and happy childhood, of her smile. During an interview with The New York Times, she credited her faith for sustaining her and talked of starting a new chapter of her life.Constand started the book, helped by a co-writer, Meg Masters, more than a year before the court’s June decision, at the start of the pandemic lockdown, as a way to get closure.“The healer in me knew I had to dive back into everything again and really try to remember and it was really chilling for me at times,” she said. “Trauma is not wired for you to remember. It’s wired for you to forget.”During the writing, she got Covid-19 and was sick on her couch in Toronto for six weeks with “an elephant on my chest.” The experience, the encounter with her own mortality, propelled her to finish the book.“I thought it was important to write the story for other survivors who had stories, too,” she said. “I wanted to be a symbol of hope to them. That their stories matter. And their stories are important.”Despite the court’s decision, she said the years of hard work were by no means wasted. Cosby, now 84, served nearly three years in prison, she pointed out. Publicity from the case helped change attitudes. Women were encouraged to come forward. People believed them when they did. Several of the Cosby accusers helped with successful legislative efforts to extend or eliminate states’ statutes of limitations in sexual assault cases.“There were so many victories along the way,” she said. “Society paid attention.”In her memoir, Constand writes that Cosby had robbed a joyful young woman, the product of a nourishing family and happy childhood, of her smile. Angela Lewis for The New York TimesSince the court’s decision, Cosby has said he wants to re-emerge as a truly public personality, which Constand would have to contend with. He has taken to social media to proclaim the ruling a vindication of his innocence, an overstatement of the decision, which found he had not been given a fair trial, but did not exonerate him.But he still has 3.2 million Twitter followers, and the day after the decision he posted a clip of Constand talking about the night she said she was assaulted. It was paired with a statement that took issue with media reporting on his case.Constand said the posting showed a man emboldened by his new freedom who was trying to use it to damage her reputation.On the same day, she retweeted a post from her sexual abuse support foundation that said “Bill Cosby is not innocent.”But, otherwise, after a modest amount of publicity associated with her book, she said she intends to regain her privacy. She is not planning a book tour and said she wants to focus on her massage therapy business, which was hurt by the pandemic, and a nonprofit foundation she started, Hope Healing and Transformation. It provides resources for survivors of sexual assault, such as a library to help understand trauma, connections to lawyers and a platform for writing their stories. Some of the proceeds from her memoir are going to the foundation.She says it was her destiny to take on Cosby, in what was a “David and Goliath situation.”But would she do it again?Prosecutors are examining the possibility of appeal. If they won, the Pennsylvania Supreme Court’s decision to block a third trial could be overturned. And Constand said she might put herself through another trial if asked, but it would be a difficult decision and she would have to consult her family.“Yeah, I would do it all over again,” she said. “If it was to do the right thing. I would do anything, as long as it was for the right reason.”Whatever happens, she says, the fact that Cosby walked free should not change what the case achieved.“I hope it doesn’t deter anybody,” she said. “I hope people will still find their voices. I hope that they don’t look at his freedom as a reason not to come forward. Quite the contrary, I hope they feel if Andrea can do it, I can do it.” More

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    Tributes to Michael K. Williams, Actor Who Gave ‘Voice to the Human Condition’

    From co-stars of “The Wire” to musicians and authors, many took to social media on Monday to share their thoughts about the actor.Fans, actors and celebrities took to social media to share their condolences for Michael K. Williams, the actor best known for his role as Omar Little in the HBO series “The Wire,” who was found dead in his home on Monday.Mr. Williams, who was 54, starred in a number of movies and TV shows, including “Boardwalk Empire,” “Lovecraft Country” and “Bringing Out the Dead.” Many of his co-stars from “The Wire” were quick on Monday to share their thoughts about the actor.“The depth of my love for this brother, can only be matched by the depth of my pain learning of his loss,” Wendell Pierce, who starred on the show as Detective William (Bunk) Moreland, said on Twitter. “A immensely talented man with the ability to give voice to the human condition portraying the lives of those whose humanity is seldom elevated until he sings their truth.”If you don’t know, you better ask somebody. His name was Michael K. Williams. He shared with me his secret fears then stepped out into his acting with true courage, acting in the face of fear, not in the absence of it. It took me years to learn what Michael had in abundance. pic.twitter.com/BIkoPPrPzg— Wendell Pierce (@WendellPierce) September 6, 2021
    In a series of posts on Twitter, Mr. Pierce described his relationship with the actor, adding that they had grown close through the show.“He shared with me his secret fears then stepped out into his acting with true courage, acting in the face of fear, not in the absence of it,” Mr. Pierce said. “It took me years to learn what Michael had in abundance.”Domenick Lombardozzi, who also starred on “The Wire,” described Mr. Williams on Twitter as kind, fair, gentle and talented.“I’ll cherish our talks and I’ll miss him tremendously,” he said. “Rest my friend.”Isiah Whitlock Jr., who also starred in “The Wire,” said on Twitter that he was “shocked and saddened” by the death of Mr. Williams.“One of the nicest brothers on the planet with the biggest heart,” he said. “An amazing actor and soul.”David Simon, the creator of the “The Wire,” initially chose not to share words about the actor, opting instead to post a portrait of Mr. Williams on Twitter.Later, Mr. Simon posted on Twitter that he was “too gutted right now to say all that ought to be said.”“Michael was a fine man and a rare talent and on our journey together he always deserved the best words,” he said. “And today those words won’t come.”HBO said on Twitter that the death of Mr. Williams is an “immeasurable loss.”“While the world knew of his immense talents, we knew Michael as a dear friend,” the network said.Ahmir Khalib Thompson, the musician known as Questlove, said on Twitter that he could not “take this pain.”“Please God No,” the musician said. “Death cannot be this normal.”The death of Mr. Williams also drew attention from others on social media, including the author Stephen King.“Horrible, sad, and unbelievable to think we’ve lost the fantastically talented Michael K. Williams at the age of 54,” the author said on Twitter.The Screen Actors Guild Awards said on Twitter that it mourned the loss of Mr. Williams.“We will always remember him and his ability to impact people’s lives through his powerful performances,” it said. More

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    Michael K. Williams, Omar From 'The Wire,' Is Dead at 54

    Mr. Williams, who also starred in “Boardwalk Empire” and “Lovecraft Country,” was best known for his role as Omar Little in the David Simon HBO series.Michael K. Williams, the actor best known for his role as Omar Little, a stickup man with a sharp wit and a sawed-off shotgun in the HBO series “The Wire,” was found dead on Monday in his home in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn, the police said. He was 54.Mr. Williams was found at about 2 p.m., according to the New York City Police Department. The death is being investigated, and the city’s medical examiner will determine the cause.His longtime representative, Marianna Shafran, confirmed the death in a statement and said the family was grappling with “deep sorrow” at “this insurmountable loss.”Mr. Williams grew up in the East Flatbush neighborhood of Brooklyn, where he said he had never envisioned a life outside the borough. But before he was 30, he had parlayed his love for dance into dancing roles with the singers George Michael and Madonna, and then landed his first acting opportunity with another artist, Tupac Shakur.Within a few years, he appeared in more roles, including as a drug dealer in the movie “Bringing Out the Dead,” which was directed by Martin Scorsese. Then in 2002 came “The Wire,” David Simon’s five-season epic on HBO that explored the gritty underworld of corruption, drugs and the police in Baltimore.Mr. Williams as Omar Little in “The Wire,” a groundbreaking portrayal of a gay Black man on television. HBOMr. Williams played Omar Little, a charming vigilante who held up low-level drug dealers, perhaps the most memorable character on a series many consider among the best shows in television history. Omar was gay and openly so in the homophobic, coldblooded world of murder and drugs, a groundbreaking portrayal of a gay Black man on television.Off camera, however, Mr. Williams’s life was often in disarray. He wasted his earnings from “The Wire” on drugs, a spiral that led him to living out of a suitcase on the floor of a house in Newark, an experience he described with candor in an article that appeared on nj.com in 2012.He finished filming the series with support from his church in Newark, but the drug addiction stayed. In 2008, he had a moment of clarity at a presidential rally for Barack Obama in Pennsylvania. With Mr. Williams in the crowd with his mother, Mr. Obama remarked that “The Wire” was the best show on television and that Omar Little was his favorite character.They met afterward, but Mr. Williams, who was high, could barely speak. “Hearing my name come out of his mouth woke me up,” Mr. Williams told The New York Times in 2017. “I realized that my work could actually make a difference.”Mr. Williams received five Emmy Award nominations, including one in the upcoming Primetime Emmy Awards this month. He was nominated this year for outstanding supporting actor in a drama series for his portrayal of Montrose Freeman on the HBO show “Lovecraft Country.”Mr. Williams as Montrose Freeman in “Lovecraft Country.”HBO, via Associated PressMichael Kenneth Williams was born Nov. 22, 1966. His mother immigrated from the Bahamas, worked as a seamstress and later operated a day care center out of the Vanderveer Estates, the public housing complex now known as Flatbush Gardens where the family lived in Brooklyn. His parents separated when he was young.When Mr. Williams was cast as Omar in “The Wire,” he returned to Vanderveer Estates to hone his role, drawing on the figures and experiences he had grown up with, he told The Times in 2017.“The way a lot of us from the neighborhood see it, Mike is like the prophet of the projects,” Darrel Wilds, 50, who grew up with Mr. Williams in Vanderveer, told The Times. “He’s representing the people of this neighborhood to the world.”Noah Remnick More

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    Adam Chanler-Berat of 'Gossip Girl,' an In-Demand Millennial Voice

    Joseph Moncure March’s “The Wild Party” (1928)Adam Chanler-Berat reads the prescient narrative poem that inspired T Magazine’s 2021 Fall Men’s issue cover story. Due to the era in which it was written, some of the language may be offensive.“I think I’m sort of exaggerating what the author meant, but there’s a bit in there that talks about gossip as an evolutionary tool to bind people together.” The actor Adam Chanler-Berat is paraphrasing the Israeli author Yuval Noah Harari’s best-selling book “Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind” (2011) on a bench near the entrance of Greenpoint’s Transmitter Park, a few blocks from the Brooklyn apartment he shares with his boyfriend, the actor Kyle Beltran. “In the days of cave people,” he explains, “gossip was ‘that person’s going to steal your food.’ It was useful!”It’s natural for the subject to be on the 34-year-old’s mind because he’s just finished shooting the debut season of HBO Max’s “Gossip Girl” reboot, the first six episodes of which premiered this summer, with the rest airing in November. In line with the show’s secrets, which are disseminated via smartphones and social media, he found out about his casting when the creator, Joshua Safran, sent him a photo of his headshot on the wall of the writers’ room, along with an offer to star as a nerdy computer science teacher who helps revive the online rumor mill depicted on the original show. Though Chanler-Berat is an established stage actor, this is his first major screen role — a winking take on millennials who’ve been dethroned by a younger generation that now rules the internet they once claimed as their own. Not having auditioned, the invitation came as a surprise to the self-described “theater dweeb,” who first broke out in 2008 as the only “Next to Normal” cast member to have stayed throughout the musical’s entire original Off Broadway and Broadway runs. Since then, he has been repeatedly enlisted to help develop and refine new productions, a shrewd choice for creators looking to tap into the alchemy of intellect and emotional intuition evident in both his work and conversation.From left: Megan Ferguson, Tavi Gevinson and Chanler-Berat in the 2021 reboot of “Gossip Girl.”Karolina Wojtasik/HBO MaxAs he sees it, his “attitude has always been, ‘How do I come in and not mess things up, or get in anyone’s way?’” Lately, that has meant relaxing into being on camera, his fear of rocking the boat beginning to vanish, thanks in part to the pool of Broadway talent the series has hired. He was relieved to discover, for instance, that the 25-year-old Tavi Gevinson — with whom he had also been rehearsing for an upcoming revival of Stephen Sondheim’s “Assassins” two weeks before lockdown — would be his main scene partner on the series. The writer-actress, now his close friend, says on the phone a week later that she’s grown to become “deliriously excited” when seeing his name come up on her phone, announcing an incoming voice message, Chanler-Berat’s preferred method of communication, a fact that makes sense given his distinct cadence and tone, which call to mind both old-school elocution and the over-expressive giddiness of a lifelong theater kid. “They’re long, rambling and eloquent,” Gevinson says of the missives, “and he’ll end them with ‘But I don’t know what I’m talking about, bye!’”Gossip keeps finding its way into his conversation — “voice messages are so versatile: better than a text, more convenient than a phone call and you can delete them when you want,” he says — but there’s no point in reading any mischief into this choice; it’s more a genuine curiosity on his part about social behaviors and the impulse to communicate. (“Connecting with people is hard and scary, and there are so many ways people try to do that. Gossip, true or not, gives you a sense of connection to the person with whom you’re sharing information.”)Jennifer Damiano (left) and Chanler-Berat in the musical “Next to Normal” at New York’s Second Stage Theater in 2008.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesChanler-Berat (top) with Carson Elrod (left) and David Rossmer (right) in the play “Peter and the Starchatcher” at New York’s Brooks Atkinson Theater in 2012.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThis awareness of self and others, apparent in the way his eyes track the dogs mingling around him, is perhaps what led to his being cast — perfectly and, once again, without an audition — as the lead in a 2016 Boston production of Sondheim’s “Sunday in the Park With George.” The starring dual roles of Georges Seurat and his fictional great-grandson George are all about apprehension toward and disconnection from one’s work, one’s peers, one’s loved ones, one’s obsessions. Chanler-Berat, who was 30 at the time, didn’t think he’d “cracked” Sondheim (“I don’t think anyone ever has”) but believes he did what he was supposed to: “There are parts of the characters that feel like an arrested development, like angsty teens, and I think that’s what speaks to nerdy theater people about that show.” The richness of the writer-composer’s work, he says, suggests a continuum that invites performers to continually reflect on their own evolving relationship to the material. “It feels like it was somehow written for you,” he says. “Not for you to play, but for you to experience and hear. Months later, you still realize things you can’t imagine not having done in the performance.”He doesn’t remember the first time he heard “Move On,” the musical’s transcendent ode to making peace with life’s outcomes, but it still reminds him of his late aunt Shirley Shulman, a scenic painter for New Jersey’s Bergen County Players who got him into theater at a young age, dressing him up for small performances for their family around the holidays. Later, as when he was a “socially awkward lost kitten” in middle school (he grew up in Bardonia, N.Y.), she encouraged him to gravitate toward theater people, where he eventually found a community. Despite his crisp, potent singing voice, he still experiences bouts of stage fright, but he says he is “exposure therapy-ing” his way out of it: “The more musicals I do, the more I’m like, ‘Well, I guess my voice generally shows up.’”Chanler-Berat (left) and Phillipa Soo in a 2017 performance of the musical “Amélie” at the Walter Kerr Theater in New York.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesIt’s difficult to take his modesty seriously, given that he has originated an impressive number of roles in offbeat-but-popular Broadway musicals like “Next to Normal” (2009), “Peter and the Starcatcher” (2012) and “Amélie” (2017). Each role required — and, because of his eyes’ sincerity, received — a barefaced candor not often seen in leading men. When he reunites with Gevinson for “Assassins” at New York’s Classic Stage Company in November, it will be John Doyle’s final Sondheim revival before stepping down as C.S.C.’s artistic director, following a long streak of quintessential, stripped-down revivals. Chanler-Berat will play the would-be Reagan killer John Hinckley Jr., which will require him to draw from what Gevinson describes as his ability to be “very present, while embodying someone who has a lot going on inside.” The role seems ideal for this phase of his career and his life, marrying his character actor versatility with the parasocial themes that are as prevalent on “Gossip Girl” as they are among the musical’s presidential stalkers.Before the pandemic, Chanler-Berat’s schedule was set to involve the strenuous double duty of rehearsing and performing the psychologically demanding musical while spending long hours shooting on the “Gossip Girl” set. Subconsciously quoting the midcentury American actress Ethel Merman, who once said an eight-show-a-week musical requires living “like a [expletive] nun,” he says that such asceticism, combined with 4:30 a.m. wake-up calls — as mandated by the series’ hair and makeup sessions, protracted by Covid-19 safety protocols — would have presented an arduous reality. He trails off when thinking of this possibility, internalizing an exacting (but conquerable) challenge that would demand his inner perfectionist to simultaneously pour his all into two vastly different projects. Then he checks himself: “But that’s also the dream, are you kidding me?” More

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    ‘Billions’ Recap, Season 5, Episode 8: Back in Business

    Chuck returns minus a beard and a lover. Axe returns minus the good sense to leave well enough alone.Season 5, Episode 8: ‘Copenhagen’Chuck Rhodes has shaved off his beard. But he wants to be clear: It’s not that big a deal.“You look ready to toss your cap in the air at West Point!” exclaims his underling Karl Allard (Allan Havey).Rhodes’s weary reply? “Don’t make a whole thing of it.”My guess, and it’s just a guess, is that this new clean-shaven Chuck Rhodes has more to do with the vagaries of scheduling talent for the back half of this Covid-scrambled season than a decision made in the writers’ room. If your show stars Paul Giamatti, and if he has gone beardless sometime during the many months since you were last able to film, then by God, your main character will go beardless as well.But “Don’t make a whole thing of it” doubles as a mantra for the entire … what should we call it? A half-season premiere? Season Five version 2.0? However you slice it, the writers have taken a steady-as-she-goes approach to the show’s return. No hard reset, no launching point for a slew of brand-new story lines — this is a standard “Billions” episode, which is to say it simply advances its pre-existing plotlines in dense and dizzying style, through crackling dialogue and confident performances.For Chuck, this means losing more than just his beard. His relationship with the Yale sex researcher Catherine Brant, played by Julianna Margulies, appears to have been another casualty of the forced break in production. The show writes her off with Chuck’s revelation that his threesome with her and a sex worker, hired by Cat for the occasion, proved disastrous when its lack of sadomasochism, the thing that really gets Rhodes’s engine revving, exposed fissures in their romantic connection.Chuck’s relationship with his alma mater produces more trouble than a regrettable sexual liaison, however. One of his former students, Merle Howard (Noah Robbins), led a revolt against Chuck’s assignment to take down the secretary of the Treasury, Todd Krakow (Danny Strong), during the season’s opening half. With the help of some photographic evidence provided by the Axe Cap sleazeball Bill Stearn, a.k.a., Dollar Bill (Kelly AuCoin), he has now resorted to blackmail, ordering Chuck to resign his post as the Attorney General of New York lest his long-ago role in rigging a Yale student election be exposed.Chuck has a moral leg to stand on here: His opponent in the election in question opposed divestment from apartheid South Africa, and the young Chuck joined friends in burning ballots in a bathtub to prevent this ultraconservative candidate from achieving power. Unfortunately for Chuck, that candidate grew up to be the university’s beloved chaplain, and a head-to-head morality-based showdown in the present day would not necessarily deliver Chuck a slam-dunk victory — not when election-rigging has been such a going concern in America in general, and on “Billions” in particular.“It was a student election — persuading Oingo Boingo to play Spring Fling, and not Sun City,” Chuck protests to Merle. “It’s not Il Duce in ’34!”“One leads to the other,” Merle responds without missing a beat.Chuck’s lawyer and best friend, Ira (Ben Shenkman), digs up an unseen file of dirt on Chuck’s old election opponent, over Chuck’s protestations. If Merle had a pistol,” Ira asks, “would you let him shoot you? No: You’d defend yourself and then go about making amends once you knew you were still breathing.”In the end, Merle blinks, withdrawing his threat and reporting himself to the university’s dean (Tawny Cypress). When she confronts Chuck about his youthful indiscretion, however, Chuck refrains from using Ira’s file, tendering his resignation from Yale’s faculty instead. Sic semper tyrannis, I guess.On the opposite side of the great “Billions” divide, Bobby Axelrod (Damian Lewis) takes on an altogether more dangerous adversary than a law student: his fellow billionaire Mike Prince (Corey Stoll). When Bobby learns from his thoroughly hung-over right-hand man Wags (David Costabile) that Prince is on deck for an ambassadorship to Denmark, the two men dig for whatever dirt can cancel the appointment and ruin Prince’s reputation.They settle on Scooter Dunbar (Daniel Breaker), Prince’s equivalent to Wags. Using a small army of runners to cover up his own involvement, Scooter appears to have developed a serious sports-betting habit, precisely the kind of security vulnerability that gets people axed from government positions. (Or at least used to.)But Wags’s attempt to bigfoot Scooter on the issue backfires when Prince shows up to Axe Cap headquarters, revealing that the bets were his own. The reason he placed the bets through Scooter and the runners wasn’t to hide a dangerous vice, he says. It’s because, given his well-earned reputation as a power player, his position could tilt the betting odds were it widely known.Not that this stops Axe’s attack. Keying in on a stray mention by Prince of his past, Axe tasks his lieutenants to dig deeper. Once again, it’s Dollar Bill who gets the goods: According to the mother (Becky Ann Baker) of Prince’s late partner, Prince swindled his former partner and best friend out of a billion-dollar deal — contributing, she believes, to his death in a drunk-driving accident. The ensuing TV news exposé lets Prince know he has a real fight on his hands.Indeed, if there’s a through line for this episode, it’s about characters trying, and often failing, to stay true to the people and things that mean the most to them. The artist Nico Tanner (Frank Grillo), the current love interest of Wendy Rhoades (Maggie Siff), recoils from the culture of limitless cash and entitlement embraced by the Axe Cap/Taylor Mason Carbon power structure — although that doesn’t stop him from fleecing one of them for thousands of dollars for a mere scribble. (His vigorous, shirtless creation of a new painting before an enraptured Wendy, to the tune of the Velvet Underground’s euphoric song “Rock and Roll,” is the episode’s valedictory moment.)As for Taylor (Asia Kate Dillon), the wunderkind trader is aghast to discover that the Mase Carb up-and-comer Rian (Eva Victor) still works as a cater waiter in her off hours. The side gig is an attempt to keep alive her relationships to her old friends, she insists. But if other major investors see her at work, Taylor argues, they will question how Taylor runs the shop. At Taylor’s behest, Rian quits her side hustle and settles in for a cozy night in front of the telly with her boss. Is it just me, or is there reason to worry that Taylor’s right-hand woman, Lauren (Jade Eshete), won’t be the only woman in the young genius’s life before too long?And while Chuck scrambles to find a kidney donor for his father (Jeffrey DeMunn) — a course of action that leads to Chuck’s humiliation by Dr. Gilbert (Seth Barrish), whom he put away for ethical violations — his ex-wife, Wendy, is tapped by Charles Sr. to be his health care proxy.“I need you to be cleareyed and punch my ticket” should the need arise, Charles tells her.In the end, the episode’s most potentially momentous moment almost feels like an afterthought. Acting on a tip by his sinister go-to guy Victor Mateo (Louis Cancelmi), Axe buys up an obviously crooked payday lender that Chuck and his own lieutenant, Kate Sacker (Condola Rashad), have been looking into. Why? Because said lender has a bank charter, the golden goose for which Axe Cap has been searching all season.Game on, folks!Loose change:As, quite potentially, the most Tom Petty-friendly show on TV, “Billions” here deploys “It’s Good to Be King.” Ironically, of course.This week’s major cameos come in the form of The Bail Project’s governing board chair, Michael E. Novogratz, and the singer-songwriter Jason Isbell, whose obvious integrity challenges Tanner to stand by his own artistic instincts.I appreciated Chuck and Ira’s shout out to Mamoun’s, the New York/New Haven falafel mainstay. Boy, I could tell you some stories.This week in “concepts I didn’t know about until ‘Billions’ told me about them,” it’s hygge, the Danish ideal of being warm and contented. Has anyone on this show truly felt hygge at any time? More

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    Willard Scott, Longtime 'Today' Weatherman, Dies at 87

    Mr. Scott, who played both Bozo the Clown and the original Ronald McDonald on television, was a longtime weather forecaster on the “Today” show who emphasized showmanship over science.Willard Scott, the antic longtime weather forecaster on the “Today” show, whose work, by his own cheerful acknowledgment, made it clear that you don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows, died on Saturday at his farm in Delaplane, Va. He was 87.His death was confirmed by his wife, Paris Keena Scott. She did not specify a cause, saying only that he had died after a brief illness.Mr. Scott, who had earlier played both Bozo the Clown and the original Ronald McDonald on television, was among the first of a generation of television weathermen who stressed showmanship over science. Throughout the late 20th century, he was also a ubiquitous television pitchman.A garrulous, gaptoothed, boutonnière-wearing, funny-hatted, sometimes toupee-clad, larger-than-life American Everyman (in his prime, he stood 6-foot-3 and weighed nearly 300 pounds), Mr. Scott was hired in 1980 to help NBC’s “Today” compete with its chief rival, ABC’s “Good Morning America.”Joining “Today” that March, Mr. Scott went on to sport a string of outré outfits, spout a cornucopia of cornpone humor and wish happy birthday to a spate of American centenarians, all while talking about the forecast every so often, until his retirement in 2015.Though he was meant to represent the new, late-model television weatherman, Mr. Scott brought to the job a brand of shtick that harked back to earlier times. He seemed simultaneously to embody the jovial, backslapping Rotarian of the mid-20th century, the midway barker of the 19th and, in the opinion of at least some critics, the court jester of the Middle Ages.There was the time, for instance, that he delivered the forecast dressed as Boy George. There was the time he did so dressed as Carmen Miranda, the “Brazilian bombshell” of an earlier era, dancing before the weather map in high heels, ruffled pink gown, copious jewelry and vast fruited hat. There was the time, reporting from an outdoor event, that he kissed a pig on camera.The pig did not take kindly to being kissed and squealed mightily.Mr. Scott, who began his career in radio before becoming a weatherman at WRC-TV, an NBC affiliate in Washington, had no background in meteorology or any allied science. But as he readily acknowledged, the weatherman’s job as reconstructed for the postmodern age did not require any.“A trained gorilla could do it,” Mr. Scott said in 1975, while he was at WRC.The only scientific asset one actually needed, he pointed out, was the telephone number of the National Weather Service.In more than three decades with “Today,” Mr. Scott traversed the country, delivering the weather on location at county fairs, town parades and quaint byways across America, as well as from NBC’s studios in New York.A frequent guest on late-night TV, he was a spokesman for a range of charitable causes and a commercial pitchman with wide television exposure — too wide, some critics maintained.The concerns he endorsed included Howard Johnson Motor Lodges, True Value Hardware, Burger King, Lipton tea, Maxwell House coffee, the American Dairy Association, the Florida Citrus Commission, Diet Coke, USA Today and many others.“A huckster for all seasons,” The New York Times called him in 1987.Mr. Scott’s onscreen persona — by his own account little different from his offscreen persona — divided viewers. Some adored him, inundating him with gifts, which he might display on the air. (Among them, the 1987 article in The Times reported, was “an airplane built out of Diet Coke cans.”)In January 1989, the country’s new first lady, Barbara Bush, broke ranks from the inaugural parade for her husband, George H.W. Bush, to dart over to Mr. Scott, broadcasting from the sidelines, and plant an impromptu kiss on his cheek.“I don’t know Willard Scott,” Mrs. Bush explained afterward. “I just love that face.”Then again, as The Boston Globe reported in 1975, there was this incident, from Mr. Scott’s days at WRC: “He was pushing a shopping cart in a Virginia supermarket recently when a little old lady charged by and smacked him with her umbrella. ‘I can’t stand you,’ she said.”The son of Willard Herman Scott, an insurance salesman, and Thelma (Phillips) Scott, a telephone operator, Willard Herman Scott Jr. was born on March 7, 1934, in Alexandria, Va.He was smitten with broadcasting from the time he was a boy, and at 16 he became a $12-a-week page at WRC-TV. After he earned a bachelor’s degree in philosophy and religion from American University, Mr. Scott and a classmate, Ed Walker, took to the Washington airwaves with a comic radio show, “The Joy Boys.”With time out from 1956 to 1958 for Mr. Scott’s Navy service, “The Joy Boys” was broadcast on WRC-AM from 1955 to 1972 and on WWDC-AM in Washington from 1972 to 1974. Featuring humorous improvisation and topical satire, it won a large following.From 1952 to 1962, Mr. Scott also played the title character on “Bozo the Clown,” the WRC-TV version of a syndicated children’s show. In the early ’60s, on the strength of his Bozo, McDonald’s asked him to develop a clown character to be used in its advertising.As Ronald McDonald, Mr. Scott did several local TV commercials for the franchise but was passed over — in consequence of his corpulence, he later said — as its national representative.In 1967, he started doing the weather on WRC-TV. There, his exploits included emerging from a manhole one Groundhog Day dressed as an astoundingly large groundhog.When Mr. Scott was hired by “Today,” he supplanted the meteorologist Bob Ryan, who was fired to make way for him. Mr. Ryan, who held a bachelor’s degree in physics and a master’s in atmospheric science, had previously worked as a cloud physicist.Mr. Scott’s early weeks at “Today,” he later recalled, were “touch and go.”But by 1987, The Times reported, “his tenure there” was “credited with helping to catapult the show past ‘Good Morning America’ into first place in the breakfast-time sweepstakes.”Not all of Mr. Scott’s colleagues approved of his modus operandi. In 1988, Bryant Gumbel, a co-host of “Today,” wrote a confidential memorandum to an NBC executive in which he castigated the work of several colleagues, notably Mr. Scott.The memo, leaked to New York Newsday the next year, charged that Mr. Scott “holds the show hostage to his assortment of whims, wishes, birthdays and bad taste.”Though Mr. Scott publicly forgave Mr. Gumbel, giving him a conciliatory kiss on the cheek on a “Today” segment soon afterward, he said elsewhere that the memo had “cut like a knife.”With NBC colleagues, Mr. Scott shared three Daytime Emmys in the 1990s for coverage of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. He went into semiretirement in 1996, ceding regular forecasting to Al Roker while continuing to deliver birthday tributes.Mr. Scott’s first wife, Mary (Dwyer) Scott, whom he married in 1959, died in 2002. He married Paris Keena Scott, his second wife, in 2014. In addition to her, he is survived by two daughters from his first marriage, Sally Scott Swiatek and Mare Scott, and two grandchildren, Sally Marie Swiatek and John Willard Swiatek.Mr. Scott was the author of several books, including “Willard Scott’s Down Home Stories” (1984) and “Willard Scott’s All-American Cookbook” (1986).For all its burlesque jocularity, Mr. Scott asserted, his job was no less taxing as a result.“Everything I do looks like it just falls into place,” he told The Los Angeles Times in 1988. “Part of what I do is make it fall into place. You have to work at being a buffoon.”Michael Levenson More