More stories

  • in

    Ryan Coogler Refuses to Pull 'Black Panther 2' Out of Georgia Over Repressive Voting Laws

    WENN

    The Marvel director defends himself for continuing the production of the ‘Black Panther’ sequel in Georgia as some Hollywood projects were pulled out of the state due to new voting laws.

    Apr 17, 2021

    AceShowbiz –
    Filmmaker Ryan Coogler has stunned civil rights activists by announcing he won’t be pulling the “Black Panther” sequel out of Georgia.

    Producers and directors of several projects have opted not to shoot in the state following the passage of repressive new election laws, which restrict the rights of African-Americans in particular, but Coogler has announced he won’t be relocating because the decision will directly affect crew members in Georgia.

    A statement from the moviemaker reads, “The fight for full enfranchisement is fundamental to the African-American struggle in this country and to this country’s claim to functioning democracy. As an African-American, and as a citizen, I oppose all attempts, explicit and otherwise, to shrink the electorate and reduce access to the ballot.”

      See also…

    “I say this as I return to Georgia, a state that holds a special place in my heart. I lived in Atlanta for eight months while filming my last movie. I have long looked forward to returning. But, when I was informed of the passage of SB202 in the state, and its ramifications for the state’s voters, I was profoundly disappointed.”

    “While I wished to turn my concern into action, I could not do so without first being educated on the specifics of Georgia. Having now spoken with voting rights activists in the state, I have come to understand that many of the people employed by my film, including all the local vendors and businesses we engage, are the very same people who will bear the brunt of SB202. For those reasons, I will not be engaging in a boycott of Georgia.”

    “What I will be doing is using my voice to emphasize the effects of SB202, it’s shameful roots in Jim Crow (sic), and doing all I can to support organizations fighting voter suppression here in the state.”

    You can share this post!

    Next article

    Elisa Donovan Nearly Died During Making of ‘Clueless’

    Related Posts More

  • in

    Four Specials Take Outdoor Comedy in Unexpected Directions

    Vir Das, Brian Regan, Erica Rhodes and Ester Steinberg each find new ways to make a virtue out of the necessity of performing al fresco in a pandemic.Laughter doesn’t echo off clouds. That’s the first challenge of outdoor comedy. According to common wisdom, the ideal conditions for stand-up — small dark room, low ceiling — are pretty much the opposite of al fresco comedy. There was actually a history of such performing, before the pandemic, with its own street-comedy legends. But in the past year, a niche became mainstream, and now, there’s a new genre of special, tried by Chelsea Handler, Colin Quinn and others. Four more funny comedians have recently gotten laughs taking the special outside, and considering the loosening of rules for indoor performance, they could also be the last of their kind.Vir Das, ‘Ten on Ten’Stream it on YouTubeNo artist embodies the globalization of stand-up over the past decade like Vir Das, the prolific Indian comic currently shooting a new Judd Apatow comedy. This role might be a breakout if Das hadn’t already broken. With six specials and nearly 8 million Twitter followers, Das is a massive star, just not yet in America. But his savvy, charismatic comedic style seems perfectly suited to cross cultures. In videos shot in a forest in the southwest of India, he has been releasing chunks of jokes monthly this year (he took a break in April for filming). Each takes on a meaty subject big enough to be of interest across the world (religion, freedom of speech, the relationship between East and West).He’s quick to tie together different cultures, making connections, for instance, between supporters of Trump, Brexit and the Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi. But this sprawling ambition doesn’t lead him to make the mistake of avoiding specificity. His comedy is filled with references to Indian culture that I didn’t understand, but he manages to explain quickly or provide enough context for me to appreciate the joke.You don’t need to have seen a speech by Modi to find Das’s imitation of his speaking style funny. Das is particularly sharp on accents throughout the world and their meaning, perhaps second only to Trevor Noah, another digitally savvy comic who’s adept at jokes that span continents. Poking fun at how Indians adopt American or British accents, Das points out that they never pick up German or Mexican ones, joking that Indians are “aspirational” in their accents. But his local jabs lead to a larger critique of the West. After a reference to Harry Potter, he points out that the books are popular in India. “We love British magic here,” he says. “Remember that trick where they made all our resources disappear?”Brian Regan, ‘On the Rocks’Stream it on NetflixRegan specializes in escapist observational humor.Leavitt Wells/NetflixAt the start of his latest special, the venerable stand-up Brian Regan draws attention to his suddenly gray hair. “Covid hit,” he said. “I went into hibernation and came out a senior citizen.” And that is the last topical note of this finely crafted hour of minor-key observational jokes. Regan has always been good at escapist observational humor, and he doubles down on lightweight fun, exploring standard subjects like animals, food and language. (“Orchestra pit. Those words don’t belong together.”) There’s one elaborate, standout bit about his O.C.D., but his work is far from personal. It’s old-school joke-telling, with broad mugging and utilitarian transitions (“I like words”). And while he’s outdoors with a masked crowd, the sound design and camerawork do not emphasize anything different from a prepandemic show.Many will find something refreshing about entertainment that feels from another, more carefree time. Regan (who contracted Covid-19 in December) is the rare comic who regularly tells jokes you will have no trouble letting your quarantined kids overhear. His rhythm is most similar to that of Jay Leno from the 1980s, and while they both are workaholics, Regan has proved more consistent. It’s easy for the casual observer to overlook the considerable technical prowess that Regan has honed over decades (his patience with setups, the spot-on word choice). Even with his clowning physicality, eyes popping, darting, brows raising, he makes stand-up look effortless.Erica Rhodes, ‘La Vie en Rhodes’Stream it on Apple TVRhodes finds the humor in malaise, an incongruity that holds promise.Comedy DynamicsA honking car is one of the ugliest sounds of everyday life. We’ve been conditioned to associate it with anxiety, error, even danger. Expecting it to stand in for laughter at a comedy show is like replacing kisses with coughs and hoping romance will continue just fine. So pity comics like Erica Rhodes who have been making the most of performing at drive-in theaters. “The good news is the numbers are finally going down,” she says in her intermittently amusing hour, holding the beat before the punchline, “Of people pursuing their dreams.”Rhodes makes comedy out of malaise, plastering on a smile after jokes about depression, horrible dates and the disappointment of having one towel in your 30s. There’s a tension in this incongruity that makes for a promising stand-up persona. But too many of her more ambitious bits, like the one about dating online, seem unfinished, starting strong, gaining momentum, then petering out casually. In some cases, it’s the reverse. She has a very sharp bit about how ending digital conversations these days results in an arms race of emojis that frustrates everyone. But she starts with a sentence about the end of the period that doesn’t entirely land. It’s a good joke looking for a better setup.Ester Steinberg, ‘Burning Bush’Rent or buy it on AmazonThe new special is a breakthrough for Ester Steinberg.Comedy DynamicsIn her persistently funny new special, Ester Steinberg declares that she found the perfect guy, before listing the three things he has that she’s always wanted: He’s tall, he’s Jewish and he has a dead mom. It’s one of many new spins on old Jewish jokes in a set that represents a breakthrough for this skilled comic. It’s notable less for the freshness of the content (weddings, motherhood, strip clubs) than for the giddy gusto of its delivery.Steinberg, who gave birth only six weeks before shooting this special, has been a charismatic sparkplug of a comic for years, but there’s a nimbleness here that is the work of someone who has come into her own. Layering jokes within jokes (at the same drive-in where Rhodes performed), she gets laughs without wasting words, veering from a flamboyant whine to vocal fry to deadpan dry. Her physicality somehow manages to evoke Bill Burr and Kate Berlant. She weaves in references to the pandemic without derailing her mischievous spirit and defuses the ridiculousness of performing for cars right away. “I’ve been doing comedy for many years,” she says, “and I finally realized my fan base is Kias.” Then after some honks and laughter, she turns to the audience and says with a straight face: “This car knows what I’m talking about.” More

  • in

    ‘Minari’ Haunted Me by What It Left Out

    The drama dares to show sympathy for an emotionally distant patriarch and his relatively powerless wife — figures familiar to this child of immigrants.Growing up, I never saw my Korean-American parents touch each other. No hugs or kisses, or even pats on the back. It wasn’t the byproduct of a loveless marriage, just the consequences of a life centered on survival — that endless list of unsexy chores. I’ve lived 30 years without acknowledging such biographical details, accepting that the nuances of my life could never make it into mainstream culture.This year, watching “Minari” challenged that assumption. For the first time, I saw my parents and all their platonic mannerisms projected in 4K clarity. I felt seen. But watching, and relating to, this tender film about a Korean-American family vying for a better life in rural Arkansas, I also felt grief.That’s because “Minari” was not a film about an emotionally supportive family, nor was it about East Asian parents thoughtfully passing on their traditions, or about a wife having as much influence in family decisions as her husband. Just as in my own life, I thought.Noticing these omissions has reminded me of what realities immigrants accept in pursuit of the American dream, and the full, uncomfortable picture of the immigrant experience we rarely see portrayed onscreen.Because “Minari” doesn’t lean on stereotypical ideas of immigrants, some of these nuances might have been harder to notice. As in reality, hope and suffering occupy the same scenes.The lost piece of the emotionally supportive family felt especially poignant to me because that has defined my own relationships.In “Minari,” the family is headed by Jacob and Monica Yi, Korean-American immigrant parents who work tedious jobs as chicken sexers, sorting female chicks from male ones. The couple, with their grade-school-age children, Anne and David, have just moved onto a plot of land in rural Arkansas. Jacob hopes to turn the site into his own farm and grow Korean produce to sell to local vendors.David Bornfriend/A24Starting a farm on limited funds — while working full-time jobs — isn’t easy, and Jacob quickly gets wrapped up in tending to his crops. We hardly see him as a caressing father or supportive husband. The few moments he is shown spending time with his son happen while he toils on the farm.In one scene toward the end, Jacob’s absence from his family shows up in a more acute way.Jacob and Monica drive David for a checkup for his heart condition. Hoping to sign up a new vendor on that same road trip, Jacob lugs a box of fresh produce along. When the family arrives at the doctor’s, Jacob hesitates to leave his produce in the car and sends the family ahead while he searches for a shaded spot. Unsuccessful, he shows up many moments later with the produce box in his hands, having prioritized its safety over his timely attendance at David’s appointment.The situation feels fairly innocent. Jacob saves his produce from the sweltering heat and makes it to the appointment, albeit late. But it’s one in a string of scenes that make clear where his priorities lie.As someone who grew up with a workaholic father myself, I know how this relationship plays out between the scenes: Strained attempts at bonding with an emotionally distant parent, the regular need to temper his anger and, eventually, a feeling that you must do something truly exceptional to earn his attention. But Steven Yeun’s portrayal of Jacob is also precise because, as with my father, I know that any faults of his are a result of his complete — though sometimes misplaced — commitment to the family’s financial stability.Melissa Lukenbaugh/A24“Minari” also reminds us of how much heritage is never mentioned and ultimately lost in the busy labor of assimilation. While most of the dialogue in “Minari” is in Korean, we never get a glimpse of Monica and Jacob passing on their traditions to Anne and David in any meaningful way. What Korean legacies the children inherit come in the way of food, which David is sometimes repulsed by.I felt sad watching David dismiss his grandma, saying she “smells like Korea,” and pushing away her medicinal hanyak (that deep brown liquid we see him drinking from a bowl). I’ve never had a close relationship with my grandmother, nor have I ever been given the chance to connect with my culture in a way that would make me feel at home if I were to live in Korea. Watching “Minari” made me feel as if I were watching the origin story of my Korean-American identity crisis.To understand the Yi family, you also have to acknowledge the outdated gender roles that families fall back on when starting anew.Despite her strong opinions and clear sense of self, Monica ultimately has little agency as a wife and mother. It’s not Monica making the decision about where to live, what to do with their land, or how to spend their money. It’s Jacob. And watching his tightfisted determination to enforce his decisions, we understand that Monica’s opinion holds little sway. As a Korean-American, I wasn’t shocked by this power imbalance — South Korea operates as a deeply patriarchal society, and when many immigrant families move abroad, they import the sexist notions that structured their lives back home. (It’s true almost anywhere that in times of crisis — like the current pandemic — women often pick up more of the housework.)Of course, whether it’s a helpless mother or an unclear understanding of where they’re from, Anne and David are aware there are missing pieces in their lives. Or at least they will be at some point as they become adults.As many immigrants know, these struggles are inherited by the children of immigrants, their learned trauma revealing itself in less poetic ways: in a persistent belief in conditional love, in a fragmented sense of identity (neither Asian enough, nor American enough), and an awkward and outdated understanding of gender roles.“Minari” is a powerful film because it dares to lay bare these painful opposites that contribute to our happiness.“Immigration stories are family stories,” the film’s director, Lee Isaac Chung, said in an interview with NPR. “What often gets overlooked in that story is the fact that a lot of that is happening due to the feeling of love, that feeling of a desire to sacrifice for each other.”In “Minari,” those daily sacrifices are depicted by what’s not shown, by what the family learns to do without. And ultimately, in allowing a Korean-American family to not actually be defined by this suffering, the film somehow arrives at an incredibly honest portrayal of life as a newcomer.Michelle No is a freelancer writer who covers entertainment and lifestyle subjects. More

  • in

    ‘The Father’ | Anatomy of a Scene

    Film directors walk viewers through one scene of their movies, showing the magic, motives and the mistakes from behind the camera.Film directors walk viewers through one scene of their movies, showing the magic, motives and the mistakes from behind the camera. More

  • in

    How Anthony Hopkins Inhabits ‘The Father’

    The director Florian Zeller narrates a sequence from his Oscar-nominated drama about a man’s descent into dementia.In “Anatomy of a Scene,” we ask directors to reveal the secrets that go into making key scenes in their movies. See new episodes in the series on Fridays. You can also watch our collection of more than 150 videos on YouTube and subscribe to our YouTube channel.A corridor. A cupboard. A caregiver.These may seem like innocuous elements in the domestic drama “The Father,” but when they change from one scene to another, they throw both the film’s lead character, Anthony (Anthony Hopkins), and the viewer, off balance.That sense of confusion is at the heart of Florian Zeller’s film (nominated for six Academy Awards including best picture), which tells the story of a man suffering from dementia by plunging the audience into his experience.In this breakfast sequence, Olivia Colman plays Anthony’s daughter and she is talking to him about the imminent arrival of a caregiver whom he’d met in a previous scene and who was then played by Imogen Poots. But when that woman arrives, a different actress, Olivia Williams, is playing her.“What I tried to do in ‘The Father’ is to put the audience in a unique position,” the director Florian Zeller said, “as if they were, in a way, in the main character’s head. And as a viewer, we have to question everything we are seeing.”He said he wanted the movie, which was based on his play, to be “not only a story, but an experience, the experience of what it could mean to lose everything, including your own bearings as a viewer.”Read the review of “The Father,”Read an interview with Anthony Hopkins.Read an interview with Florian Zeller about adapting “The Father” for the screen.Watch “The Father” on demand and in theaters.Sign up for the Movies Update newsletter and get a roundup of reviews, news, Critics’ Picks and more. More

  • in

    Gina Prince-Bythewood: Movies Won't Be the Same Without the ArcLight

    For the director Gina Prince-Bythewood, seeing her movie premiere there or just a poster for it on display was a sign that her work mattered. News of the closure hit hard.As the rest of the film industry begins its tentative return to prepandemic normalcy, the announcement that Los Angeles’s ArcLight Cinemas, a chain that includes the Cinerama Dome, would close came as a shock to loyal moviegoers and filmmakers alike. Here, the director Gina Prince-Bythewood (“The Old Guard,” “Love & Basketball”) explains why the news was so devastating. These are edited excerpts.The ArcLight is a place for people who love movies. If you’re a filmmaker, if you love movies, you just appreciated everything that [the ArcLight] put into making it a curated moviegoing experience. They always had the films that we wanted to see, but they also had special screenings of movies that hadn’t been out for years, and a balance between big blockbusters and independent films. They made it an event. We never had to go anywhere else but the ArcLight — because you knew it was an experience every time, and you just didn’t want to cheat on your theater. There was no reason to go anywhere else.Ours was ArcLight Sherman Oaks, which was beautiful. The second you walk in, it’s about film. To the left was this very cool gift shop, which had film memorabilia and books, and then there would be the bar with mixed drinks but also great hot chocolate and coffee. There was a whole costume display from whichever film they were focused on, whether it be “Star Wars” or a period piece. [The concessions stand] was always packed because the food was really good — but there were tons of people working, so the lines moved fast.They had this entire wall of movie posters, and as a filmmaker, you’re always hoping that your poster would show up there. “Love & Basketball” premiered at the Cinerama Dome, and that was incredible to have my first film be at this iconic theater, with the red carpet and the excitement of it, and to see my film up on the marquee. My husband’s film, when he wrote “Get on the Bus,” also played there. To take a picture of the marquee, to have your movie poster be on rotation, it was exciting. And it made you feel like you’re working on something.Sanaa Lathan and Omar Epps in “Love & Basketball,” which had its premiere at the Cinerama Dome.New Line CinemaMy husband and I, when we were dating, would go to the movies once a week. Nobody else at the time had assigned seating. You know when you used to go to the theater, and you’d have to get there super early, searching for two spots, and you knew where you’d like to sit and those seats are never available because someone’s there already, and you’re — you know, “Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me”? Here, you picked your favorite seat, you walked in and you sat down. Once we had kids, all of us would go to the exact same seats every time: F25, 24, 23, 22. They allowed us to be near the end, but also to put our feet up on a metal bar right below us. And as you wait, they always have great trivia going up on the screen and movie music playing, and then the usher would come and the experience will begin.All the ushers and everybody who worked there clearly love movies: You could ask them which film they would recommend, and they would go into detail why they loved it. Right before the movie would start, an usher would come to the front of the theater and announce what movie you’re about to see, the running time, the rating and some little tidbit of information about the film. And it was always fun because there would be ushers who were completely shy, and it was probably horrifying for them that they have to do this; others would give these long explanations and you could tell that this was just their moment in the sun.When “Black Panther” came out, we got our seats that we loved two weeks in advance. We knew that it was going to be packed. And the audiences there, there’s just a love of film. So you just knew that you were going to have fun with the crowd as well, because people clap at the end of movies they love and cheer during trailers they’re hyped about. I loved seeing other families going for that same experience, and then being able to talk about it afterward in the lobby. You knew the people were there to see the movie and they respected the filmmaking.To hear that the ArcLight, of all theaters, was shutting down was a shock. It was kind of a blow to that fantasy that we were going to get back to where we were. Streaming has been great during this time, and it was incredible for “The Old Guard” to reach the global audience that it did. But I still love theaters. I love the collective experience of watching a film with people I don’t know who are all feeling the same things.I’m just staying optimistic that someone is going to step up and purchase the theaters. It’s too important to the industry; it’s too important to the audiences; the meaning of it is just too important for it to just go away. I have this fantasy that Netflix or Apple or George Clooney is just going to step up and save it, because it needs to be here. Oprah! We need Oprah. More