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    ‘Juice WRLD: Into the Abyss’ Review: Free Fall

    This unfocused documentary looks at the career of the rapper Juice WRLD, who died of an accidental overdose in 2019.“Juice WRLD: Into the Abyss” opens with three and a half minutes of Juice WRLD, the rapper born as Jarad A. Higgins, freestyling in a single take. Not long after, the film shows him doing the same on a radio show. The most exciting moments in this documentary, directed by Tommy Oliver, showcase the artist’s ability to rap “off the top of the dome,” as the singer and rapper iLoveMakonnen says.But much of the film consists not of blistering to-camera improvisation but of loosely structured backstage footage. Juice WRLD died at 21 of an accidental overdose in late 2019, and there’s an argument to be made that anything with him on camera has value. Even so, “Into the Abyss,” which mixes material from Juice WRLD’s tour stops with interviews and hangout and recording vignettes, isn’t particularly focused. At one point, Juice WRLD and the rapper Ski Mask the Slump God engage in a toy light saber battle.The film shows its subject in a TV appearance talking candidly about anxiety and depression. “Whether he knew it or not, Juice was a therapist for millions of kids,” the music producer Benny Blanco says at the conclusion.But “Into the Abyss” includes enough onscreen pill-popping to raise uncomfortable questions about documentary ethics. In retrospect, certain lyrics (“I pray to God for some water to wash down these Percs,” Juice WRLD sings in a previously unreleased track featured in the movie) unavoidably sound like warnings.Juice WRLD: Into the AbyssNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 55 minutes. Watch on HBO platforms. More

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    ‘The Scary of Sixty-First’ Review: Resident Evil

    A Manhattan apartment turns into the rental from hell in this mindless mix of horror and true crime.There were moments during “The Scary of Sixty-First” when I was convinced I was watching a botched horror-comedy. But while this witless slurry of onanism and conspiracy theories is certainly laughable, it is never, for one second, even remotely funny.What, then, was its director and co-writer, Dasha Nekrasova, hoping to achieve beyond childish provocation? The dialogue is empty-headed, the visuals crudely exploitative and the plot — about two college friends who rent a swanky, suspiciously affordable apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side — so ludicrous as to be well nigh incoherent. All of which inspires some measure of sympathy for Madeline Quinn (who co-wrote the screenplay) and Betsey Brown as the roommates Noelle and Addie, and whose passive-aggressive dynamic is further ruptured by the arrival of a shifty stranger (Nekrasova).Claiming that the apartment once belonged to the convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein, the visitor draws Noelle into the web of online conspiracies surrounding his death. Addie, meantime — seemingly possessed by one of Epstein’s underage victims — begins sucking her thumb and engaging in multiple bouts of increasingly frenzied masturbation. These are mostly an excuse for Hunter Zimny’s camera to zoom repeatedly between her legs as if her underwear were magnetized.Mashing pentagrams, Prince Andrew and autoerotic asphyxiation into a lubricious slop, “The Scary of Sixty-First” feels suffocating and flat. Nekrasova might have some insight into the mental vulnerabilities of the chronically screen-obsessed, but she has neither the artistry nor the filmmaking skills to deliver what the press notes suggest is a nod to Kubrick and Polanski. What we learn from both, however, is that giving offense should not appear to be your sole motivation.The Scary of Sixty-FirstNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 21 minutes. In theaters. More

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    The Breakout Stars of 2021

    In a year that offered glimmers of hope across the world of arts, these performers and creators rose to the occasion.Olivia Rodrigo, members of the cast of “Reservation Dogs” and a scene from “Sanctuary City.”Clockwise from left: Mat Hayward/Getty Images; jeremy Dennis for The New York Times; Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe cultural world began to sputter back to life this year, and in turn, so did many of us — slipping out of our sweats and into movie theaters, clubs and Broadway shows. Even for those who were less confident rubbing (or bumping) elbows in public, artists brought us plenty of joy in the safety of our home. It may not have been the beforetimes, but in 2021, these artists and creators from across the arts gave us a fresh outlook.Pop MusicOlivia RodrigoFor those of us over 30, Olivia Rodrigo seemed to come out of nowhere with her colossal debut single, “Drivers License,” a heartbreak ballad that dropped in January and stayed at the top of the Billboard Hot 100 for eight weeks. But for a younger audience, Rodrigo, 18, was familiar from her time as a Disney child star. Despite that pedigree, she didn’t drag along a squeaky clean image.Jon Caramanica, a pop music critic at The New York Times, called “Sour,” her debut album from May, “nuanced and often exceptional,” deploying “sweet pop and tart punk equally well.” He called Rodrigo, a California-raised Filipino American, “an optimal pop star for the era of personalities, subpersonalities and metapersonalities.”As Rodrigo told GQ magazine in June, “Something that I learned very early on is the importance of separating person versus persona. When people who don’t know me are criticizing me, they’re criticizing my persona, not my person.”Olivia Rodrigo’s colossal debut single, “Drivers License,” stayed at the top of the charts.Mat Hayward/Getty Images for IheartmediaTelevisionLee Jung-jaeBlood-drenched, brutally violent entertainment is rarely synonymous with nuanced, complex performances. But in Netflix’s “Squid Game,” a dystopian thriller from South Korea that became a global streaming sensation, Lee Jung-jae, 49, pulled off just that. As the protagonist Seong Gi-hun, a gambling addict who is deeply in debt, he gives a wrenching and surprisingly subtle performance as he battles his way through unspeakable horrors.But Lee, a model-turned-actor who has starred in several hit Korean films like last year’s gangster drama “Deliver Us From Evil,” doesn’t play Gi-hun as a hero or a villain, a bumbling fool or a savvy con man. “Gi-hun’s emotions are very complicated,” Lee told The Times in October.“Squid Game,” he went on, “is not really a show about survival games. It’s about people.”TheaterThe Authors of ‘Six’In October, “Six” became the first musical to have its opening night on Broadway since the pandemic shutdown in March 2020, at the Brooks Atkinson Theater. An exuberant and cheeky pop musical about the wives of Henry VIII, it brought much-needed fun and noise to the stage — thanks to Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss, who wrote the book, music and lyrics. (Moss also directed the show with Jamie Armitage.)The hit show is “a rollicking, reverberant blast from the past” that “turns Henry VIII’s ill-fated wives into spunky modern-day pop stars,” as Jesse Green, the theater critic at The Times, and Maya Phillips, a critic-at-large, put it. Think Miley Cyrus, Beyoncé and Nicki Minaj, whom the leading divas were in some ways modeled after.Marlow came up with the idea for “Six” while daydreaming during a poetry class at Cambridge University, where he and Moss, now both 27, became fast friends. “This,” Moss told The Times in 2019, “is obviously the craziest thing that’s ever happened to us.”MoviesAunjanue EllisIn 1995, The Times called Aunjanue Ellis an up-and-comer for her role in the Shakespeare Festival production of “The Tempest” in Central Park. Ellis “projects nearly as much force offstage as she does in character as Ariel,” the article read. That fire hasn’t wavered in the years since, whether on film —“Ray,” “The Help,” “If Beale Street Could Talk” — or on TV in “When They See Us” and “Lovecraft Country,” both of which earned her Emmy nominations.Now, in the movie “King Richard,” Ellis delivers a megawatt performance as Oracene, the mother of Venus and Serena Williams (opposite Will Smith as Richard) — turning a supporting role into a talker and generating Oscar buzz.In an interview this fall, Ellis, now 52, talked about what makes her say yes to a role: “Can I do it and not be embarrassed and stand by the fact that I’ve done it?” she says she asks herself. “Is it fun to play and am I doing a service to Black women?”.css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}Classical MusicEun Sun Kim“An artist is never satisfied,” said Eun Sun Kim after the San Francisco Opera’s production of Beethoven’s “Fidelio” on Oct. 14 — despite an extended ovation and shouts of “Bravo!” from the audience.After all, Kim — the first female music director of a major opera company in the United States and the first Asian to take on such a role, a monumental appointment that became official in August — has a lot on her plate. Not only is she grappling with the company’s financial fallout from the pandemic, she inherited the opera’s previous problems, like declining attendance.“It’s a hard job, it’s a big job, whether you’re a woman or a man,” she told The Times in October. “I want to be seen just as a conductor.”Kim, 41, whose conducting debut in the states was in 2017 with the Houston Grand Opera production of “La Traviata,” is aiming to broaden the art form’s appeal in the digital age. The company hopes her appointment will do the same; there were advertisements featuring her image with the words “A new era begins” around the city.“Opera is not boring or old,” she said in October. “It’s the same human beings, the same stories, whether it was 200 years ago or nowadays.”Eun Sun Kim, the first female music director of a major opera company in the United States, at the San Francisco Opera in October.Kelsey McClellan for The New York TimesArtJennifer PackerLast year, Jennifer Packer, 37, a painter who depicts contemporary Black life through atmospheric portraits and still lifes, told The Times that she’s driven by thoughts of “emotional and moral buoyancy in the face of various kinds of impoverishment and de facto captivity.”Now, that perspective is on display in her biggest solo exhibition, “The Eye Is Not Satisfied With Seeing,” on view at the Whitney Museum of American Art. The show includes about 30 of her works from the past decade, including the painting “A Lesson in Longing,” which was featured in the 2019 Whitney Biennial — as well as works that speak to Black lives lost to police brutality. Her largest painting, “Blessed Are Those Who Mourn (Breonna! Breonna!),” referring to Breonna Taylor, was created during the 2020 pandemic lockdown.In reviewing Packer’s Whitney exhibition for The Times, Aruna D’Souza wrote that no other artist right now is doing as much as Packer “to make those who have been rendered invisible — on museum walls, in public culture, in political discourse — visible.”MoviesCooper HoffmanIn “Licorice Pizza,” the new comedy-drama-romance from Paul Thomas Anderson, Cooper Hoffman plays an unlikely teenage hero. Cooper, 18, is the son of Philip Seymour Hoffman, Anderson’s muse before the actor’s death in 2014. Before this movie, Hoffman had never really acted, except with Anderson in something akin to home movies, he said during a press event in November. “It was on a very lower scale, with an iPhone and his kid,” Hoffman joked, referring to Anderson’s child. “I would always play the bad guy, and his kid would beat me up, and it was good fun.”In her review of the film, Manohla Dargis, co-chief movie critic at The Times, said that Anderson’s love for Cooper’s character, Gary, is special — “as lavish as that of an indulgent parent.” His affection for Gary, she continued, “is of a piece of the soft nostalgic glow he pumps into ‘Licorice Pizza.’”Cooper plays opposite Alana Haim, who also had no acting experience before “Licorice Pizza.” The pair had met briefly through Anderson several years ago, she told The Times, never thinking their paths would cross again. As soon as they read together, though, Haim recalled, “It was like, oh, we’re a team. We can take on the world together.”Cooper Hoffman, foreground, stars in “Licorice Pizza,” which was written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson.Melinda Sue Gordon/MGMDanceLaTasha BarnesLaTasha Barnes — a leader in the dance forms of house, hip-hop and the Lindy Hop — bridged worlds this year. Barnes is “a connector, or a rather a re-connector,” Brian Seibert wrote in the Times. In particular, she works to reconnect Black audiences and Black dancers (like herself) to their jazz heritage. To watch her dance, Seibert said, “is to watch historical distance collapse.”Barnes, 41, has been admired in dance for years, but it was her showing in “The Jazz Continuum” (the show she presented at Works & Process at the Guggenheim Museum in May and later at Jacob’s Pillow) and her appearance in “Sw!ng Out” (the contemporary swing-dance show that debuted at the Joyce Theater in October) that caught the attention of many. In November, she won a Bessie Award for Outstanding Performer.Discouraged by dance teachers at a young age because of her body type, Barnes pivoted to gymnastics and track and field; at 18, she enlisted in the Army. She later weathered athletic injuries, as well as a broken hip, back and wrist after being hit by a car. Despite it all, her zeal for dance continued.“I was always looking at myself as the perpetual outsider,” she told The Times, “without realizing that it was actually the reverse.”The dancer LaTasha Barnes works to reconnect Black audiences and Black dancers to their jazz heritage.Cherylynn Tsushima, via The BessiesTelevisionThe Cast of Reservation Dogs“Reservation Dogs,” a dark comedy about four teenagers living on a Native reservation in Oklahoma, is a game-changer. That’s how one of its stars, D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, described it, and he wouldn’t be alone. The series, from FX on Hulu, is the first on TV with an entirely Indigenous writer’s room and roster of directors. That backbone allows the undeniable synergy among its core cast members — Woon-A-Tai, Devery Jacobs, Lane Factor and Paulina Alexis — to flourish.On previous sets, Jacobs said she was “literally the only Native person for miles.” The industry “should feel embarrassed that 2021 is a year for firsts for Indigenous representation,” she went on.For Alexis, her acting dreams once felt so impossible, she felt embarrassed to tell anyone about them, she told The Times. “There was no representation on TV. I didn’t think I would make it.” Now she has a role in “Ghostbusters: Afterlife,” and will star in a second season of “Reservation Dogs,” which was renewed in September.The stars of “Reservation Dogs,” a groundbreaking show from FX on Hulu: from left, Paulina Alexis, Lane Factor, D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai and Devery Jacobs.Jeremy Dennis for The New York TimesPop MusicMickey GuytonAfter Mickey Guyton was nominated for three Grammys in November, she told The New York Times, “I was right.” She was referring to her instinct for the direction of “Remember Her Name,” her debut full-length release. “This whole album came from me and what I thought I should release,” she said, “and that’s something I’ve never done.”In January, alongside major players like Miranda Lambert and Chris Stapleton, she will have three chances to win: for best country album, best country song and best country solo performance (for the title track). Last Grammys, she became the first Black woman to be nominated for a solo country performance award for the track “Black Like Me.”Guyton, 38, is also an outspoken activist in Nashville, with song titles like “Different” and “Love My Hair.”“What’s being played on country radio has been played on country radio for the last 10 years — I can’t do that,” she told Jon Caramanica of The Times in September. “I can’t do it spiritually. I can’t write songs that don’t mean something.”The country singer Mickey Guyton, performing in New York in December, is also an outspoken activist in Nashville.Dimitrios Kambouris/Getty ImagesTheaterSharlene CruzIn September, amid theater’s reopening, “Sanctuary City,” a play from the Pulitzer Prize winner Martyna Majok, resumed Off Broadway at the Lucille Lortel Theater. Like much of Majok’s work, it takes on the “plight of undocumented immigrants, with a glowering side-eye cast on the rest of us,” as Jesse Green of The Times put it in his rave of the play.Sharlene Cruz brings to life the smart, impulsive G — performing opposite Jasai Chase-Owens as B, both playing undocumented teenagers. Cruz, who is in her 20s, renders her character smartly, impulsively and with a lot of subtext. “Impulsiveness can just seem stagy — youth, a caricature,” Green told this reporter, but Cruz gets the rhythm right and is disciplined enough to put that quality in service of the character’s goals.As those goals change — G ages a few years in the play — Cruz convincingly shows how that impulsiveness hardened into hotheadedness, and youth into something that’s not quite maturity.Sharlene Cruz, left, and Jasai Chase-Owens play undocumented teenagers in “Sanctuary City” at the Lucille Lortel Theater in New York. Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesArtPrecious OkoyomonPrecious Okoyomon, 28, a multidisciplinary artist and poet who has only been exhibiting for a few years, creates massive site-specific installations using organic materials. “I make worlds,” Okoyomon, who won the Artist Award at Frieze New York this year, told The New York Times Style Magazine. “Everything, every portal I make, is its own ecosystem.”Okoyomon, who lived in Lagos, Nigeria, as a child before moving to Texas and then Ohio, added: “I attach myself to materials such as earth, rocks, water and fire because these are things I can’t control on my own.”As part of the Frieze win, Okoyomon conceived and presented a performance-based installation at the Shed titled “This God Is A Slow Recovery,” which focused on communication or the lack thereof. “It’s about destroying our language, building it up, crashing the words into each other,” Okoyomon said. “How do we create the language to get to the new world?”This month, Okoyomon won a Chanel Next Prize, a new award from the French fashion brand established to nurture emerging talent, nominated by a group of cultural figures and selected by the jurors Tilda Swinton, David Adjaye and Cao Fei.DanceKayla FarrishIn September, the dancer and choreographer Kayla Farrish — teaming up with the jazz, soul, and experimental musician Melanie Charles — transported Maria Hernandez Park in Brooklyn to a vivid scene of grace and power.The performance — as part of the platform four/four presents, which commissions collaborations among artists — was “sweeping and robust work braiding music and spoken word with choreography” that encompassed the best of technical dance and athletic drills, said Gia Kourlas, the dance critic at The Times.The result turned its five dancers — Farrish, 30, was joined by Mikaila Ware, Kerime Konur, Gabrielle Loren and Anya Clarke-Verdery — into a vibrant union of musicality, tenderness and power,” Kourlas wrote. 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    ‘Nightmare Alley’ Review: Seeing Is Believing. (Suckers!)

    Guillermo del Toro’s latest movie tracks the sordid adventures of a carnival grifter played by Bradley Cooper.Festooned with gargoyles, Guillermo del Toro’s “Nightmare Alley” gets its game on in the sleazoid world of 1930s back-road carnivals. There, amid worn tents and garishly painted signs, a psychic reads gullible minds and a contortionist twists like a soft pretzel. The whole thing seems like fertile ground for del Toro, who’s drawn to the stranger, spookier corners of the imagination. So when a carnival barker promises a crowd a good show it is easy to imagine del Toro nodding along as he murmurs, Step right this way, folks.You get why Stan (Bradley Cooper) looks all agog when he wanders in. As a filmmaker, del Toro likes to lay an overflowing table, and there’s a lot to take in at the carnival, like the pickled baby, baptized Cyclops Boy; and a poor soul called the Geek, an ostensible wild man who bites the heads off chickens. It’s icky — that’s the idea. Stan has empty pockets and a mysterious past, and while others might run screaming, he soon joins the show’s roster of creepy and putatively charming charlatans. He proves a natural hustler and, as the story evolves, his grifting grows more sophisticated, lucrative and dangerous.You might have seen Tyrone Power navigating a similarly shadowy setup in the 1947 noir of the same title, directed by Edmund Goulding. Like the earlier movie, del Toro’s is based on a novel by William Lindsay Gresham, a desperate, pitiless book filled with exotic slang and steeped in the soured milk of human unkindness. Written by del Toro and Kim Morgan, the new adaptation hews more faithfully to the novel, partly because it’s not constrained by Hollywood self-censorship. But fealty isn’t always a productive strategy, and while the first film greatly tempers the book’s shocks, it doesn’t sentimentalize the source material, as this one does.Shortly after Stan becomes a carny, he begins cycling through women, beginning with a clairvoyant (Toni Collette) whose broken-down husband (David Strathairn) once had a successful mentalist act. The act uses a code that allows the performers to guess, more or less accurately, the answers to audience questions. It’s a perfect fit for an opportunist, which is a role that nicely suits Cooper, an actor who can let you see his characters’ internal whirring. Stan and another love interest (Rooney Mara) leave the carnival, taking the mentalist act on the nightclub circuit. They make bank and also meet a smooth number (Cate Blanchett) who steps out of a different, less engaging movie.Cooper adds charisma and an anxious backbeat to the story, while the old-timey carnival gives the movie texture and novelty. Part of the queasy appeal of Gresham’s novel is that it vividly brings to life the kind of low-rent carnivals that once entertained audiences with so-called human oddities, people who were often just disabled or marginalized. However exploitative, these shows provided performers with wages and homes, a community like the one immortalized in Tod Browning’s scandalous 1932 film “Freaks,” a favorite of del Toro’s. The attraction to outsider realms like the one immortalized in that film runs deep for del Toro; if nothing else, movie shoots are themselves nomadic tribes of a kind.Whatever his reasons, del Toro adores his monsters, and he’s right at home in the carnival, which he dotes on lovingly. He puts his frequent collaborator Ron Perlman in strongman tights, turns up the amperage on Willem Dafoe’s cadaverous smile and gives Collette time and space to leave an impression. Collette’s scenes with Cooper send out electric sparks, generating heat that briefly takes the chill off Stan and draws you to him. Their scenes also give Cooper a chance to flesh out the character, a mystery that unravels scene by scene. You miss Colette when her character exits, which happens all too fast because Stan has other places to go and more people to cheat.As del Toro peers into the carnival’s corners, he also folds in one of the movie’s recurring motifs: eyes. “Nightmare Alley” turns on the logic of the visible: what Stan sees and doesn’t, what patrons (you included) see and don’t. In the carnival (and in movies), seeing is believing, including in illusions, yet at what cost? Early on, Stan stumbles into an attraction decorated with eyes, an echo of Salvador Dalí’s designs for the Hitchcock film “Spellbound.” Later, when Stan develops his mentalist act, he wears a blindfold decorated with a single eye, evoking the Cyclops Boy. By the time he meets a shrink, Dr. Lilith Ritter (Blanchett), it is obvious that what Stan can never really see is himself.Del Toro is a world builder, but he can have a tough time bringing his creations to life, which is the case here despite the hard work of his fine cast. The carnival is diverting, and del Toro’s fondness for its denizens helps put a human face on these putative freaks. But once he’s finished with the preliminaries, he struggles to make the many striking parts cohere into a living, breathing whole. It’s as if, after opening his cabinet of curiosities, he expected you to continue gazing appreciatively at his collection of wonders alongside him. And while it is a nice display — everything gleams, having been lovingly polished and repolished — it’s also inert, more museological than cinematic.The problem is that this display is in service to a drama that needs narrative tension and modulation to fully work. The scenes with Lilith are particularly crucial in this respect, and also where the movie’s already logy pulse slows to a crawl. It’s no surprise that Blanchett makes quite the spectacle — she doesn’t walk and sit, she slinks and drapes — yet the performance is so mannered and self-consciously indebted to noir sirens of the past that you can almost see the quote marks framing it. In theory, Lilith should be a sharp foil for Stan. But she isn’t a character, she is a cineaste’s nostalgic plaything, and like too much of this movie she is less bathed in del Toro’s love than embalmed in it.Nightmare AlleyRated R for bloody violence. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘My Girlfriend’s Wedding’: Her Life Plays Like a Movie

    Newly restored, Jim McBride’s 1969 documentary is about his lover who gets married to another man. Her story remains anything but boring.“We waited for a movie like the one we wanted to make, and secretly wanted to live,” says one of the protagonists of Jean-Luc Godard’s 1966 youth film, “Masculine Feminine.” That secret desire is the pretext of “David Holzman’s Diary,” a classic of the American New Wave, made by Jim McBride in 1967, that was the original mockumentary.McBride’s fictional “cinéma vérité” was occasionally mistaken for the real thing — not least because his 1969 follow-up, “My Girlfriend’s Wedding,” actually was a diaristic documentary. Newly restored, it is screening at Anthology Film Archives in Manhattan along with its precursor and a seldom-seen sequel, “Pictures From Life’s Other Side.”A counterculture love story cum screwball comedy, “My Girlfriend’s Wedding” is mainly a portrait of McBride’s inamorata, a young Englishwoman named Clarissa Dalrymple (nee Ainley) with whom he shares an East Village pad. McBride shoots most of the movie on the day Clarissa secures her green card by marrying someone who is not McBride (his divorce isn’t yet final). The bridegroom, whom Clarissa has only just met, is a self-identified Yippie, happy to confound the system.Life imitates art. “My Girlfriend’s Wedding” often seems to satirize McBride’s original satire, as when, interviewing Clarissa, he directs her to hold up a mirror, thus revealing the camera that is recording her. The difference between the two movies is that, unlike David Holzman’s girlfriend, who was alienated by the filming process, Clarissa is cheerfully complicit in her objectification. She first appears wrapped in a bedcover.Although “My Girlfriend’s Wedding” was dismissed as tedious when it opened in New York at the Whitney Museum of American Art in 1973, Clarissa is anything but boring. Later becoming an influential art curator, she is less garrulous than one of Andy Warhol’s superstars or the subject of Shirley Clarke’s “Portrait of Jason.” Even so, she seems quite comfortable living the movie of her life, discussing the two children she had out of wedlock, cursing her father (and reading a letter he sent her), and obscurely ruminating on “the revolution.”Adding an extra complication, Clarissa, who recently had an abortion, may or may not be pregnant again. She is, however, perfectly composed, appearing in a demure white minidress to be married in the Manhattan Municipal Building. After the ceremony, the newlyweds have lunch where Clarissa obsesses about being late for a new job (waiting tables at Café Figaro), as her husband questions the whole notion of work and holds forth even less coherently on revolutionary politics.“It doesn’t seem to be a movie I’m making anymore,” McBride complains that evening. “Let’s not film.” Just when it seems that “My Girlfriend’s Wedding” might end, like “David Holzman’s Diary” with an on-camera breakdown, the movie cuts to a title: “Four Days Later We Leave for San Francisco.” What follows is a hyperkinetic road movie accompanied by Al Kooper’s strident declaration “I Can’t Quit Her.”If not exactly a happy ending, it’s a good deal happier than the “Diary” denouement. As much as anything, “My Girlfriend’s Wedding” globalizes a quotation attributed to the screenwriter Bob Schneider: Love is when two people who care for each other get confused.My Girlfriend’s WeddingThrough Dec. 21 at Anthology Film Archives, Manhattan; anthologyfilmarchives.org. More

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    ‘The Tender Bar’ Review: Where Everybody Knows His Name

    Ben Affleck serves up whiskey and wisdom in George Clooney’s adaptation of the best-selling memoir by J.R. Moehringer.Every kid should have an Uncle Charlie. That’s the sentiment voiced by J.R. Maguire early in “The Tender Bar,” and it’s hard to disagree. By the end of the movie, directed by George Clooney and adapted from J.R. Moehringer’s 2005 memoir, it’s clear that what J.R. means, most simply, is that every child should have an adult who loves them unconditionally: someone who listens, gives good advice and answers hard questions as truthfully as possible.In movie terms, it doesn’t hurt if that person is also Ben Affleck. Uncle Charlie, a Long Island bartender who is loyal to his friends and family and devoted to his car (a beautiful blue-green Cadillac convertible), is like an older, 1980s-vintage version of Chuckie Sullivan, Affleck’s character in “Good Will Hunting.” He likes to drink, smoke, crack wise and philosophize, but his calling in life is to be there for a vulnerable, promising young man when no one else will.Affleck is very good at this. He doesn’t oversell either Charlie’s cool or his warmth, and doesn’t let the audience or J.R. in on all of Charlie’s secrets. We see him mostly through the boy’s eyes, as a heroic, benevolent, somewhat mysterious figure, but Affleck’s weary, stoical demeanor suggests dimensions beyond what a child might comprehend. (The young J.R. is played by Daniel Ranieri; grown-up, retrospective narration is provided by the voice of Ron Livingston.) The nuances of Affleck’s performance help ground the movie in small, specific emotions. Its understatement, though, can be a limitation as well as a virtue.The obvious thing to say about Charlie is that he’s a surrogate father. J.R.’s real dad (Max Martini) is an unreliable, largely absent, self-absorbed disc jockey. He sometimes calls, rarely shows up and lives mainly as a voice on the radio. (“The Voice” is his professional alias.) “The Tender Bar” begins when J.R. and his mother, Dorothy (Lily Rabe), move into her parents’ rambling house in Manhasset. Dorothy’s brother Charlie lives there too, as do a bunch of other cousins and siblings.We don’t learn too much about them. The focus is on J.R.’s relationships with Dorothy and Charlie, and on his search for The Voice. Grandpa, in the splendidly cranky person of Christopher Lloyd, shows up now and again to swear or break wind, and once in a while to show a little tenderness.J.R.’s second home is the bar, called the Dickens, where Charlie pours drinks for the regulars and dispenses what he calls “male science” to his nephew. In keeping with the joint’s literary name (there’s a fading likeness of Charles Dickens painted on the side of the building), Charlie keeps books as well as bottles on the shelves. He encourages J.R. to read, and then to write.Five Movies to Watch This WinterCard 1 of 51. “The Power of the Dog”: More

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    Oscar Contenders Like Lady Gaga and Ben Affleck Go Big

    Aim-for-the-fences performances from Lady Gaga, Ben Affleck and many others are making waves, and we’re here for the outrageous fun.There’s a great story Minnie Driver tells about the director Joel Schumacher, who responded dryly after a co-star complained that Driver’s performance in “The Phantom of the Opera” was too over the top.“Oh honey,” Schumacher replied, “no one ever paid to see under the top.”I’ve thought about that bon mot a lot during this movie season, where so many stars seem to be swinging for the fences. Think of Lady Gaga and Jared Leto, who go so daringly big in “House of Gucci,” or Jessica Chastain and Andrew Garfield as televangelists in “The Eyes of Tammy Faye,” where they pitch their performances nearly as wide as Tammy Faye Bakker’s mascara-laden eyes.In “The Last Duel,” Ben Affleck has outrageous fun playing his costume-drama blowhard to the hilt, and the fact that he does it all in a blond wig and a nu-metal goatee makes the role even more over the top. And then there’s Kristen Stewart, who eschews her trademark minimalism for the awfully maximalist “Spencer,” where she is asked to wobble, shout, dance and heave, sometimes all within the same scene.Ben Affleck as a costume-drama blowhard in “The Last Duel.”Jessica Forde/20th Century StudiosAfter the last Oscar season celebrated the quiet, naturalistic “Nomadland,” it’s a kick to see so many of this year’s prestige dramas go in a different direction and embrace enormousness. In an era dominated by superhero movies, perhaps smaller films now need a performance that feels event-sized. Or maybe, after a period when so many of us have led circumscribed lives, it’s invigorating simply to watch actors shake off their shackles and go for broke.Whatever the case, it’s working. “Tick, Tick … Boom!” is animated by Garfield’s gusto as the composer Jonathan Larson, a man who operates at an 11 at all times. Watching him, I remembered the “30 Rock” joke where Jenna Maroney lobbied the Tonys to add a category for “living theatrically in normal life.” And this month brings a double dose of big Cate Blanchett performances in “Don’t Look Up,” which casts her as a terrifyingly “yassified” cable-news host, and “Nightmare Alley,” in which she treats the film’s eye-popping production design as if it were all custom-made for her femme fatale to slink on.I don’t mean to suggest that these outsize performances are a miscalculation. Quite the opposite: An actress like Blanchett is as tuned in to the tone of her movies as a singer who asks for the intended key and then begins belting. When a skilled performer is able to hit all those high notes, it’s more than just technically dazzling: It makes the softly played notes to come feel even more resonant.Cate Blanchett, center, with Bradley Cooper and Rooney Mara in “Nightmare Alley.”Kerry Hayes/Searchlight PicturesBut hey, there’s nothing wrong with simply being dazzled for the sake of it. It’s fun when Bradley Cooper shows up in “Licorice Pizza” to terrorize the young leads with wild, nervy electricity: Just when it feels like the film is coming to a close, Cooper adds enough of a jolt to power “Licorice Pizza” for 30 more minutes. Part of the thrill of watching such a big performance is that you know how much derision is at stake if the actor fails to nail it. Just think of poor Ben Platt in the film adaptation of “Dear Evan Hansen”: His crying jags, so potent on the stage, proved unfortunately memeable in the movies.And sometimes, the most fascinating thing about a film is the frisson between a performer who goes big and co-stars who don’t. The first time I saw “The Power of the Dog,” I’ll admit I didn’t connect with Benedict Cumberbatch, whose performance as the sadistic cattle rancher Phil Burbank felt far too broad. After all, his primary scene partners are Kirsten Dunst and Jesse Plemons, a real-life couple who happen to be two of the best practitioners of American naturalism: They can do anything onscreen and not only will you believe it, you’ll hardly even catch them doing it. Up against them, I found Cumberbatch too mannered, like an actor determined to show his work.Benedict Cumberbatch opposite Kodi Smit-McPhee in “The Power of the Dog.”NetflixBut the second time I watched the film, I realized all of that artifice is perfect for Phil, who is concealing more than just his silver-spoon upbringing and degree from Yale. Put the pieces of his back story together and you’ll realize that Phil’s grime-covered cowboy act is all shtick, a performance of machismo so fraught that an interloper like Dunst threatens it because she doesn’t have to put on any sort of act at all. It took nerve for Jane Campion, the movie’s director, to assemble that sort of cast and trust that it would work, just as it took nerve for Cumberbatch to push things just a little further than some actors would deem comfortable.And hey, at least those bigger-than-average performances will make for some good Oscar clips. Many of the stars who’ve gone for broke have been earning awards attention, though I do want to go to bat for Affleck, who is delicious as the pompous count in “The Last Duel” and deserves serious supporting-actor consideration. The Golden Globes instead nominated him for his low-key work in “The Tender Bar” — a mistake, since the only thing Affleck has done this year that’s even comparable to “The Last Duel” is the contribution he made to pop culture as one half of Bennifer 2.0.Maybe that’s part of the fun of these supersized performances: They’re finally scaled to the level of celebrity that we count on someone like Affleck or Gaga to serve. So often, Hollywood has asked the stars who live largest to shrink themselves down for critical acclaim. But where’s the fun in that? They made that screen big for a reason. More

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    Rita Moreno and Ariana DeBose on 'West Side Story

    “Hello, birthday queen,” Ariana DeBose said, greeting her “West Side Story” castmate Rita Moreno, newly and notably aged 90.It was Sunday afternoon, and DeBose, 30, was in bed at her home on the Upper East Side, propped up on pillows, her rescue cats, Isadora Duncan and Frederick Douglass, occasionally parading through the Zoom call. Moreno was across the country, at home in Berkeley, Calif., camera-ready above the waist in a red sweater and mega-jewelry, but stealthily in pink pajamas and fluffy slipper socks below. How were her many birthday celebrations? “I’m happy to report that they’re endless,” she said. “I do feel queenly and royal.”Moreno, who arrived in New York from Puerto Rico in 1936, famously won an Oscar — the first Latina to do so — for playing Anita in the 1961 “West Side Story.” DeBose, who grew up in North Carolina and describes herself as Afro-Latina, is earning critical raves and awards chatter as Anita in Steven Spielberg’s new version, which also features Moreno in the newly created role of Valentina, a shopkeeper.In a video interview, they spoke about identity, fighting stereotypes and getting notes from Stephen Sondheim, the original lyricist. They both dropped an expletive or two; songs and admiration spilled forth. “I just know this movie is going to make it into the Oscars in many ways,” Moreno said. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.Moreno in the original 1961 film.Silver Screen Collection/Getty ImagesDeBose in the new Steven Spielberg version.Niko Tavernise/20th Century StudiosAriana, you’ve said your own identity was important in what you brought to the role. How did you discuss that with the creative team?DeBOSE It was one of the first things I brought up. My first audition. I didn’t know Steven was going to be there, and I decided to just do what I needed to do, to represent myself well and what I could offer. Toward the end, he asked if there was anything else he needed to know, and I was like, if you’re not interested in exploring the Afro-Latin identity, and finding ways to incorporate it or talk about that, you probably shouldn’t hire me. I didn’t want to feel like I was just checking a box for them, you know. It is a real lived experience, and it’s not something we talk about often. In fact, it wasn’t until my adulthood that I really was able to clock that you can be Black and Puerto Rican — and my mother is white. You can be all of those things. And I’m queer, so there’s a lot going on there. I was very adamant that we should either explore it, or you shouldn’t go down the path with me.Steven, when we were filming, was like, does this actually feel authentic to you? And if not, we should change it. I could answer from my perspective, of course, but I didn’t grow up in 1957. They brought folks to speak to us who lived in San Juan Hill during this time. There was an Irish gang member, Puerto Ricans who were living on the blocks at the time. Rita and I didn’t really talk about the character a lot, but I found hearing about her lived experiences really helpful.DeBose brought up the issue of Afro-Latina identity in her first audition with Steven Spielberg: “I didn’t want to feel like I was just checking a box for them.”Erik Carter for The New York TimesDid you talk about the legacy of playing Anita?MORENO I didn’t. There was a very conscious reason. I knew what a delicate position Ariana was in. I wanted her to be absolutely sure that I didn’t impose anything on her. So as a good hostess, I decided to keep some of those thoughts to myself..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}She knew the enormity of it. I could see she was a very bright young woman, and there wasn’t a whole lot that I could tell her that would be helpful other than self-serving for myself. I tried very, very hard to help put her at ease and to be as fair as I could with respect to any envy I might have felt — and by the way, I did. I mean, I’d be brain-dead if I didn’t.Ariana, you’ve said you a mini panic attack when you first met Rita on the shoot. How did you recover?DeBOSE I’m still recovering. I actually, in my own naïveté, hadn’t clocked that I was going to be in the same room with her. And then the moment came, and I was like, oh, God.MORENO She was like a little deer in the headlights. I decided to take her to lunch, and then realized how nervous she was. I thought, I really have to do my best to help her relax. What I said was, be your own Anita. Not knowing her well at the time, I didn’t realize that she could only be her own Anita.What’s your response to critics who say the movie shouldn’t be revived at all because it brings up stereotypes, or it’s not of our era in terms of its origin?MORENO It does not bring up stereotypes. That’s bull [expletive], pure and unadulterated bull [expletive].The first time I saw the movie I was so overcome. I started to cry at the mambo at the gym [scene]. I was sitting next to my daughter, and she said, “Mom, why are you crying? This is so joyous.” I said, because Steven got it right. Those shots were incredible, and he got the spirit of what the musical numbers were about.DeBOSE And that’s why we retell classics. That’s what makes them classic, the ability to be retold and reimagined. You give things historical context so that you can better understand the text, to make it tangible.MORENO That’s where Tony Kushner [the screenwriter] comes in. He brought in the social elements of something that wasn’t even addressed in the original. That doesn’t make that first effort lesser. It’s still an iconic film. But on the other hand, it is astonishing to me how unfleshed-out the [original] characters were. I don’t think that was deliberate. I think it’s how they [the original creators] saw it. What was it like having Sondheim around?DeBOSE He was present, but I actually didn’t have much one-on-one interaction with him. They sent notes through Steven Spielberg — SS2, as he fondly proclaimed himself. Sondheim was SS1, and Spielberg was SS2. So either Jeanine [Tesori, the supervising vocal producer] or SS2 would come in, and we would chat, and then we’d go again, and we’d continue going until SS1 was happy.He talked about color. I remember when we were recording the Anita section of the [“Tonight”] Quintet, he was like, listen to that [imitating spiraling music]. That’s the color you’re going for, and then let the vocal fly.MORENO And that’s [singing], “Anita’s going to get her kicks, tonight …”DeBOSE Yes. The last half of it, he was like, go for something completely different. He talked with many of us just about being confident: Own your vocal. Which, I’ll be honest, was never really my issue — being confident. It was just finding the right thing because this vocal can go in a lot of different directions. What color am I singing here? I believe I went for magenta.Moreno said she broke down crying when shooting Anita’s attack in the original film: “The wounds never really go away.”Erik Carter for The New York TimesThe scene when Anita goes to Valentina’s shop and is attacked by the Jets is one of the most emotional in the film. It is obviously so dark, and so many different themes come up — gender, race, class. How did you talk about or prepare for it?DeBOSE There was a rehearsal day, and we had an intimacy coordinator there.MORENO What the hell is that? I’ve never heard of this before. It’s fascinating to me.DeBOSE A person who makes sure that we’re all comfortable with what’s going on.MORENO It means you don’t touch certain places?DeBOSE Exactly. You don’t touch certain parts of the body unless it’s agreed upon. She was really helpful because the Jet boys were so nervous about having to do this. We’d been working together for so long at that point — there was real love amongst us, and they were all very afraid of hurting me. I was like, I’m fine. Remember, I’m not Ariana, I’m Anita right now. But I was very grateful for that rehearsal because it just set boundaries for all of us. It ended up being a really safe psychological experience. Granted, that experience has not left me. I don’t watch that scene when I’m viewing the film. I can hear it, but actually physically watching it, it makes me sick a little.MORENO Oh, that’s heartbreaking.DeBOSE It’s very intense because you have so many bodies on top of you with the impetus to hurt you, and even though it’s a simulated thing, your body doesn’t actually know the difference.MORENO And you know what? It isn’t just your body. Your brain and your heart — because that’s what made me end up in just hysterical tears when I was doing the scene, and they had to stop shooting because I couldn’t stop crying. The wounds never really go away.DeBOSE I think because it’s a musical, people don’t realize, sometimes, the depth of the material. And this character, whether it’s Rita’s incarnation or my incarnation, this [expletive] gets real. The amount of grief and the assault on her person, it’s hard to watch. It’s even harder to perform.I have tremendous respect for anyone who has played this role because you don’t actually understand until you’re in it — and out of it — just how far you have to go to create a moment with this particular woman. MORENO She’s so charming; she’s funny. She has opinions that she’s not afraid to voice. All of that fools you. You still have to play the wounds and the insults.DeBOSE And if it’s not making you uncomfortable as a viewer, I would say you need to go analyze some things in yourself.What do you feel you learned from playing Anita and from what she represents?MORENO For me, it was a revelation because I realized midway through the [first] film, that I actually found my role model at the age of something like 28, and it was Anita. I had never played a Hispanic woman who had that kind of dignity and the sense of self-respect, and fearless in terms of expressing what she needed to express.DeBOSE She’s taught me a lot about forgiveness. You take things personally in this industry, but it’s a healthier path to choose to forgive. And it’s not an easy path. I mean, me? I would have knocked the [expletive] out of Maria. That is the one moment in the piece, whether it’s onstage or film — I don’t know if that’s actually what would happen in the world. Because it’s very hard to make that choice when you are in that moment of grief.MORENO It’s not only forgiveness, as expressing how important a part love plays in one’s life. “When love comes so strong, there is no right or wrong.”DeBOSE That line — that’s what the whole moment’s about. No matter what happens, you can be so angry at someone and still love them very deeply. The love doesn’t die. It may transform. It may shift shapes. But there’s always love.Moreno and DeBose didn’t discuss Anita’s legacy but both found inspiration in the role.Erik Carter for The New York Times More