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    Dave Chappelle Responds to Netflix Controversy in Instagram Post

    Dave Chappelle responded to the controversy over his Netflix standup special “The Closer” — which has been criticized as promoting bigotry toward transgender people — by posting a five-minute video clip to Instagram on Monday in which he denied that he had been invited to speak to transgender employees of the streaming service and refused.“That is not true,” he said in the video, which was taken during a weekend performance in Nashville. “If they had invited me, I would have accepted. Although I am confused about what we would be speaking about. I said what I said, and boy, I heard what you said. My God, how could I not? You said you want a safe working environment at Netflix. It seems like I’m the only one who can’t go to the office anymore.”The controversy over Mr. Chappelle’s special has put Netflix at the center of a conversation involving transphobia, free speech and employee activism. Last week, a group of Netflix employees in Los Angeles staged a walkout. Some employees working virtually also shut their laptops in solidarity.Hours before the protest, Netflix released a statement saying that it understood “the deep hurt that’s been caused,” and that it recognized “we have much more work to do both within Netflix and in our content.”In his video, Mr. Chappelle addressed the transgender community, saying, “I’m more than willing to give you an audience but you will not summon me. I am not bending to anybody’s demands.”Mr. Chappelle said he had three conditions for any meeting: those involved must watch “The Closer” in its entirety, he would choose the time and place, and “you must admit that Hannah Gadsby is not funny.”Ms. Gadsby, a comedian whose specials have been successful on Netflix, criticized Netflix’s co-chief executive Ted Sarandos this month for defending Mr. Chappelle. Mr. Sarandos had invoked Ms. Gadsby in a statement in which he defended Mr. Chappelle’s right to artistic expression.Mr. Chappelle also said that a documentary he made chronicling a series of stand-up shows he hosted during the summer of 2020 from a cornfield near his home in Yellow Springs, Ohio, could not find distribution because of the controversy over “The Closer.” Directed by Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert, the film had its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival in June, for the reopening of Radio City Music Hall. Mr. Chappelle said he would release the documentary himself in 10 American cities over the next month. (Ten dates in different cities were listed on the Instagram post.)“You have to answer the question, am I canceled or not?” he said before dropping the microphone and walking off the stage. More

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    The ‘Halloween’ Franchise and the Problem With Its Sequels

    The follow-ups took the wrong lessons from the 1978 film. But we keep giving the franchise second chances, in hopes a new one will live up to the original.The astonishing opening-weekend grosses for “Halloween Kills,” the 12th film in the durable “Halloween” franchise, may have surprised some observers — after all, audiences are still hesitant to visit theaters, and reviews for this installment were not kind.And they’re not wrong: it’s truly a mess, a whiplash-inducing attempt to fuse straight horror, sideways comedy and socially relevant themes. But just as you can’t kill Michael Myers, the knife-wielding psychopath at its center, you can’t kill “Halloween,” which has outlasted other horror franchises from the same era like “Friday the 13th” (dormant since 2009) and “A Nightmare on Elm Street” (since 2010).So what is it about this series that has proved so durable? What keeps fans — and I count myself among them — coming back, forever granting the series second chances at greatness, fully aware of the inevitability of disappointment? A look back at the first five films in the series (available in new Blu-ray collector’s editions from Shout Factory but also streaming on major platforms) provides some answers.It’s impossible to overstate the impact of John Carpenter’s 1978 “Halloween,” a film now treated as a sacred text among horror aficionados — and for good reason. The thriller was innovative, quite literally from the first frame: it opens with a lengthy sequence in which we see a brutal murder through the killer’s eyes. It’s easy to understand what the film’s imitators lifted from this: the heavy-breathing point-of-view framing, the gratuitous nudity, the prurient moralizing (the victim is killed after a casual sexual encounter). Few bothered to replicate Carpenter’s technical wizardry — that four-minute introductory shot, clearly inspired by the opening of Orson Welles’ “Touch of Evil,” plays out as an unbroken take — or use it as ingeniously as “Halloween” does: to delay, for as long as possible, the moment of shock when Carpenter finally reveals that the murderer is the 6-year-old Michael Myers, who has slain his own sister.In stark contrast to the slasher movies it spawned, and even to its own sequels, barely a drop of blood is shed in “Halloween.” Carpenter and his co-writer and producer, Debra Hill, spend much of the film’s first hour crafting distinct, memorable characters, particularly Myers’s final would-be victim, the bookworm babysitter Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis), and his psychiatrist and antagonist, Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasence).So rather than reveling in guts and gore, the original film’s emphasis is on suspense, terror and mood. Carpenter’s elegant direction makes inventive use of negative space and darkness (particularly when moving Michael’s ghostly white mask in and out of the cinematographer Dean Cundey’s inky night spaces), and of foregrounds and backgrounds, which frequently reveal the killer’s presence to the viewer before he is seen by his potential victims. Carpenter also masterfully manipulates the pace, which rises and falls in waves through the first and second acts, casually accumulating dread and fear, before moving into the relentlessly scary closing scenes.“Halloween” was a commercial sensation, grossing roughly $47 million on a budget of $325,000. That tremendous return on investment prompted a slew of quick, cheap imitations — after all, the logic went, you didn’t need stars or production values, just some attractive young unknowns and a guy with a knife. None of the successors was more transparent, or more successful, than the “Friday the 13th” series. Its makers couldn’t replicate Carpenter’s stylistic flair, so they invested in elaborate, intricate killing scenes and blood by the bucket.“Friday” and its first follow-up had already come and gone by the time “Halloween II” hit theaters, in October 1981, but that series’s influence is keenly felt in this sequel. Though Carpenter and Hill wrote and produced again (with directorial duties handed off to Rick Rosenthal), the violence is much more extreme and the body count is higher, as is the volume of jump scares, a sure sign that the filmmakers didn’t believe their audience had the patience for the slow builds of the initial installment.But “Halloween II” still has moments of visceral terror that rival the first film, and compositions that are breathtaking in their ingenuity. At their best, these films can tap into a primal fear: of being chased, of running for our lives, of realizing too late that we don’t have a way out. It’s why the scene of Laurie seemingly trapped in a closet in the first film has lodged itself so firmly in our collective memories; it’s why the sequel’s basement chase is so similarly effective. Throughout the series, characters and dialogue return to the idea of “the boogeyman,” a relentless force of evil whom you, of course, cannot kill; “Halloween” works on our subconscious, to a great extent, because it is rooted in childhood fears. (The fears of “Friday the 13th” are teenage concerns: getting caught, either having sex or doing drugs or both.)“Halloween III: The Season of the Witch” was closer to science fiction than horror.Universal PicturesThe “Halloween” movies’ willingness to take risks, at least early on, is more pronounced in the next installment. The first sequel ends, perhaps hopefully, with the death of Michael Myers; the next year, Carpenter and Hill produced “Halloween III: Season of the Witch,” an effort to rebrand the series as a horror anthology, telling a completely different story in a completely different style. This tale of an evil plan to murder kids en masse via killer Halloween masks is closer to 1950s science fiction (or, at the very least, ’70s riffs on the genre like the “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” remake) than anything that was happening in horror in the 1980s — and, perhaps as a result, audiences rejected the attempt to rethink “Halloween.”That was, in retrospect, the last time the series tried to break new ground rather than follow current trends. But that’s probably the other explanation for the longevity of “Halloween”: its malleability. When the producer Moustapha Akkad resurrected the series in 1988 with “Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers,” he gave the fans what they wanted — more of the same — though that film, and its quickie follow-up a year later, “Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers,” felt more like “Friday the 13th” sequels than anything Carpenter and Hill had made. Both films have moments of genuine fright and a handful of affecting performances, but they feel like the series reacting to trends rather than setting them, a pattern that continued through the next entries: the winking, “Scream”-influenced “Halloween H20: 20 Years Later” (1998); the extreme horror of Rob Zombie’s 2007 mash-up of remake and origin story; and the gestures of social relevance in the current iterations.These efforts to rethink, rebrand and reboot that original, comparatively simple exercise in suspense have failed and succeeded in roughly equal measure. Yet we’ll plunk down our ticket money, no matter how sour the word of mouth, no matter how dire the reviews, because we’ve grown up with these movies.Part of it is sheer nostalgia, plain and simple: “Halloween” movies remind us of sneaking contraband videotapes into sleepovers and scaring each other silly late at night, after the parents were asleep. The series will probably never scale those heights again, and we know it. But we’ll keep showing up, like die-hard fans of a baseball team that hasn’t nabbed a pennant in years, but can still win a big game every now and then. More

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    What We Know About Alec Baldwin’s Fatal Shooting

    The authorities are investigating the death of the cinematographer Halyna Hutchins on the set of “Rust” in Santa Fe County. Here’s what we know.The authorities in Santa Fe County, N.M., are investigating what happened on the set of “Rust” when the actor Alec Baldwin killed the film’s cinematographer and wounded its director by firing a gun that was being used as a prop.Details have begun to trickle out with the release of a detective’s affidavit, the audio of a 911 call made immediately after Thursday’s shooting, and public statements from some of the people involved. But much remains unclear, including the essential question: How did a gun that contained a fatal projectile get into the hands of an actor who believed it was safe, when an array of safeguards should have made that impossible?Here is an overview of what we know, and what we don’t know, as of Saturday morning.What we knowThe shooting happened during a rehearsal for a scene in “Rust.” Mr. Baldwin fired the gun, striking the cinematographer, Halyna Hutchins, in the chest and the director, Joel Souza, in the shoulder. Ms. Hutchins, 42, was airlifted to a hospital in Albuquerque, where she died. Mr. Souza, 48, was taken by ambulance to a hospital in Santa Fe and was released on Friday.Mr. Baldwin has cooperated with the investigation, including going to the Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office after the shooting to provide a statement and answer questions. No criminal charges have been filed against him or anyone else.The Sheriff’s Office has obtained a warrant to search the building where the shooting happened, examine the gun for biological evidence, and review video footage from the film cameras and other recordings. A spokesman for the office said he expected more information to be available next week.In an affidavit accompanying the office’s request for a warrant, Detective Joel Cano said that an assistant director on the set had taken the gun off a cart — where it had been placed by the film’s armorer, or weapons handler — and handed it to Mr. Baldwin, who pulled the trigger shortly thereafter. According to the affidavit, the assistant director called out the words “cold gun,” indicating that it was unloaded and safe for Mr. Baldwin to handle.Days earlier, a handful of crew members had walked off the set over general working conditions, according to several people involved in the production and a theatrical union official. Crew members had complained to producers about long workdays — often exceeding 13 hours — and delayed paychecks. Some also said the production company had failed to book hotel rooms near the set, meaning that they had to drive about an hour to their homes after long, physically demanding days.In a statement released on Friday, Mr. Baldwin called the shooting a “tragic accident” and said he had been in touch with Ms. Hutchins’s husband to offer his support. “There are no words to convey my shock and sadness regarding the tragic accident that took the life of Halyna Hutchins, a wife, mother and deeply admired colleague of ours,” he wrote on Twitter, adding, “My heart is broken for her husband, their son, and all who knew and loved Halyna.”What we don’t knowWhat type of projectile the gun contained. We do not know whether it was live ammunition, a blank (meaning a cartridge without a bullet, but with gunpowder and wadding that can sometimes be ejected forcefully enough to kill) or something else.Who loaded the gun, and who was responsible for the false conclusion that it wasn’t loaded. We know from the Sheriff’s Office affidavit that the assistant director called it a “cold gun” when handing it to Mr. Baldwin, but we do not know whether he made that assessment personally or whether he received bad information from someone else.How the protocols that are supposed to prevent firearm deaths and injuries on film sets failed. More

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    How ‘Maya and the Three,’ ‘Encanto’ and ‘Vivo’ Animate Latinidad

    A warrior princess, an enchanted family and a kinkajou musician are changing how Latino stories are told — at least in animation.Take “The Lord of the Rings,” but make it Mesoamerican. Pepper the plot with pop culture references, and you have “Maya and the Three.”Originally envisioned by the creator Jorge R. Gutiérrez as a film trilogy, “Maya and the Three” began to take shape in 2018 when Netflix executives asked him to pitch an idea that he loved but didn’t think he could get made anywhere else.“What came out of my mouth was: ‘I want to make three movies in a row about a Mesoamerican warrior princess who’s going to save the world,’” Gutiérrez said. Now reimagined as a nine-episode animated mini-series, the result arrived Friday on Netflix, with a vocal cast studded with Latino stars, including Zoe Saldaña (Maya), Diego Luna (Zatz, prince of bats), Gael García Bernal (the Jaguar Brothers), Stephanie Beatriz (Chimi) and Rita Moreno (Ah Puch).As singular as it sounds, “Maya and the Three” is part of a recent trend that also includes the films “Vivo,” which came out in August, and “Encanto,” slated for release next month. All are animated stories by Latinos and about Latinos. All highlight the importance of women and girls to their communities and aim to counter Hollywood’s history of attempting to create unrealistically flawless characters of color (when it has created them at all).And all three aim to dazzle and charm viewers with their narratives and aesthetics while also honoring distinct cultures and creating more complex portrayals of Latinos — in part, by reveling in their characters’ imperfections.“When you’re only representing one film with one Hispanic character, that character has to be everything for everyone,” said Rebecca Perez, an “Encanto” animator. “And that’s not fair, because no one’s perfect. We all bring our broken pieces and our perfect pieces.”When it came to creating the heroes of “Maya and the Three,” Gutiérrez, who also directed the series, received similar advice from his wife, the animator and illustrator Sandra Equihua. (Gutiérrez grew up in Mexico City, while Equihua is from Tijuana.) Equihua designed the show’s lead female characters and served as a creative consultant.“Early on, as a male writer, I go: ‘I’ve never had a female protagonist. I’ve got to make sure she’s perfect,’” Gutiérrez said in a joint video interview with Equihua, both of whom were in Los Angeles. “And she literally went: ‘What are you doing? You’re Mary Sue-ing this thing. You are making her flat as a character because she has no flaws — all the male characters are so flawed, they’re way more interesting.’”Equihua had reminded Gutiérrez that he loved folk art because of its imperfections, and she pressed him to treat his protagonist the same way. So at times, Maya falters: She does bad things for good reasons.As a society, “we’re realizing that there’s more layers than being the naysayer, the crybaby, Miss Perfect,” Equihua said. “There’s more layers to us as girls, as women, and we wanted to make sure that Maya was as human as possible.”Part of that humanity is purely physical. Equihua designed Maya to look almost vase-like: She has broad hips, a stout build and strong legs. (She is, after all, a warrior princess.) The illustrator tries to base her characters on what Latinas really look like.“Not all of us have the thighs and the hips and everything, but a lot of us do,” Equihua said. “And it’s good to celebrate it and see that there’s diversity in shapes, and not all of us have long, long, long legs and thin, thin, thin, thin tiny waists. And it’s just glorious to see that she could run around and be powerful.”Rather than have a traditional quinceañera on her 15th birthday, Maya embarks on a quest outlined by an ancient prophecy. Alongside three great warriors, she must battle the gods to save her family, her friends and herself.“One of the themes in ‘Maya’ is the sacrifice that Latinas have to make: for their families to go on, for the countries to go on, for the culture to go on,” Gutiérrez said. “They’re the pillars that hold up the continent, and a lot of times it’s a thankless endeavor.”In “Encanto,” Mirabel, center, voiced by Stephanie Beatriz, lives in an enchanted Colombian town with her family.Disney/Disney, via Associated Press“Encanto,” a Disney film coming to theaters on Nov. 24, tells the story of the Madrigal family, which lives in an enchanted town in the mountains of Colombia. The family matriarch, Abuela (María Cecilia Botero), first arrived there after fleeing violence, losing her husband along the way.The enchantment, bestowed upon Abuela to protect her from harm, has given a magical gift to each child in the family — except Mirabel. But when she realizes that the enchantment itself is in danger, Mirabel sets out to save her family.Perez, one of the film’s animators, said that her Cuban grandparents came to the United States in very much the same fashion, packing their bags and giving up everything they knew. “I made very conscious choices to be present in every meeting, and be authentically me,” Perez said in a video interview from Burbank, Calif. “Even if it meant being a little uncomfortable — both me being uncomfortable, and the person I’m talking to, whether it be a director or producer, and expressing my point of view.“Always respectful, but the only way you’re going to get to a great place is to go through the bumps. Then you’re going to have honest conversations.”Perhaps without realizing it, Perez mirrored the experience of Mirabel Madrigal, the film’s bespectacled protagonist. In “Encanto,” conflict is resolved only through open, honest conversation between Mirabel and Abuela, bridging generational gaps amid a cloud of golden butterflies. The rest of the Madrigal family runs the gamut of body types, skin tones, hair colors, accents and magical powers.Like “Encanto,” the Netflix film “Vivo” includes details that the average viewer might miss. Someone who is part of the relevant culture, however, will instantly pick them up. In “Encanto,” Mirabel gestures to a present for her younger cousin by pointing with her lips, a classic Colombian gesture. In “Vivo,” a Dominican American mother drives a car with a bumper sticker: the Dominican flag inside an outline of the country.Carlos Romero, a story artist on “Vivo” of Dominican and Panamanian descent, loved the bumper sticker — he saw it everywhere growing up in the Bronx.“It’s all about absorbing all of that and making sure we’re doing right by their culture,” he said. It was also important, he added, to make sure that “people from those different countries can watch this and feel pride, too — and feel like, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s exactly someone I know,’ or, ‘That’s exactly what I’d say.’”“Vivo” is centered on a Domincan American tween (voiced by Ynairaly Simo) and a musical kinkajou (Lin-Manuel Miranda). SPAI/Netflix“Vivo” follows the unlikely adventures of a kinkajou named Vivo (Lin-Manuel Miranda), a musician from Cuba, and a girl named Gabi (Ynairaly Simo), an energetic Dominican American tween. When the two run away from home to deliver a long-lost love letter, Gabi’s mother, Rosa (Saldaña), becomes worried. Then she becomes upset.There was a lot of worry on set, Romero said, surrounding Rosa’s emotions. Was she too angry, especially for a Dominican American woman onscreen? Romero understood the desire to avoid stereotypes, he said, but he thought the portrayal was realistic: Any mother would furiously scour the city for her lost child.“We need to show them as dimensional characters that experience fear; they experience worry and anxiety for their kid, pride when they do good,” Romero said. “You shouldn’t be afraid of touching all the emotions because Latinos are dimensional people that should be portrayed realistically onscreen.”“And the more of them we get,” he added, “the less we have to worry about presenting them perfectly in our films.” More

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    Here's Why Films Use Real Guns as Props on Set

    Safety protocols for firearms on set are well established and straight forward, and injuries of any kind are rare.LOS ANGELES — Hollywood was in a state of shock on Friday, one day after Alec Baldwin fired a gun being used as a prop on a New Mexico film set, killing a cinematographer and wounding the director. Real firearms are routinely used while cameras are rolling, and injuries of any kind are rare. The reason is that safety protocols for firearms on sets are well established and straight forward.Weapons must be tightly managed by an armorer, sometimes credited on films as a “weapons master,” who holds various government-issued permits. Some states, for instance, require an entertainment firearms license in addition to standard gun licenses. Cast members should be trained in gun safety in advance. Guns should never be pointed directly at anyone, especially in rehearsals but even during actual filming, since camera trickery can be used to compensate for the angle. If necessary, plexiglass is used to protect the camera operator and surrounding crew members.And no live ammunition, ever.“Protocol had to have been broken,” said Daniel Leonard, an associate dean of Chapman University’s film school who specializes in set procedures. “We will have to see what the details are, but the industry has a very specific set of guidelines to follow to prevent something like this from happening.”I am gutted and just so mad right now. No shot, no scene and no movie is worth the loss of life. #RIPHalynaHutchins— Rachel Morrison (@morrisondp) October 22, 2021
    Weapons on sets vary. Some are rubber props (used for shots when actors are far in the distance) and others are airsoft guns that fire nonlethal pellets. Often, however, productions use real guns.Studios prefer to digitally create the actual firing in postproduction whenever possible. Sometimes it is not. Even in a filmmaking age where visual-effects artists use computers to convincingly create disintegrating cities, it can be difficult to replicate the weight and recoil of a real gun, studio executives say. Some actors have a hard time faking it.Depending on the complexity of the scene, effects wizardry is also expensive, Mr. Leonard noted, and independently financed movies like “Rust,” the film that Mr. Baldwin was making in New Mexico, operate on shoestring budgets.When the guns need to be fired, they are loaded with blanks, which are cartridge cases with no bullets. People tend to think that blanks are like toy cap guns for children — a little pop and some smoke. That is not the case. Blanks can still be dangerous because they involve gunpowder and paper wadding or wax, which provide a flame and spark, which look good on camera. (When people are injured by firearms on sets, it usually involves a burn, safety coordinators said.)“Blanks help contribute to the authenticity of a scene in ways that cannot be achieved in any other manner,” David Brown, a Canadian movie firearms safety coordinator, wrote in American Cinematographer magazine in 2019. “If the cinematographer is there to paint a story with light and framing, firearms experts are there to enhance a story with drama and excitement.”A production safety coordinator, working with the armorer, institutes rules for keeping a safe distance from the muzzle of a gun loaded with a blank. At least 20 feet is a rule of thumb, according to Larry Zanoff, an armorer for films like “Django Unchained.” Mr. Brown wrote that “safe distances vary widely depending on the load and the type of firearm, which is why we test everything in advance.”“Take the distance that people need to be away from a gunshot, and then triple it,” Mr. Brown wrote. He declined a telephone interview on Friday but added in an email: “Firearms are no more dangerous than any other prop on set when handled responsibly. All the safety procedures in the industry make these situations virtually impossible when firearms are handled by professionals who give them their undivided attention.”If a movie involves gunfire, safety planning usually begins long before anyone gathers on a set, according to studio executives who oversee physical production. First, the armorer is brought on board to analyze the script and, working with the director and prop master, decide what weapons are needed. Studios tend to work with the same armorers over and over again; one such expert, John Fox, has credits in 190 films and 650 episodes of television over 25 years.Larry Zanoff is an armorer who worked on “Django Unchained.”Mel Melcon/Los Angeles Times, via Getty ImagesArmorers own the weapons themselves or rent them; Mike Tristano & Company in Los Angeles has a vast prop gun inventory that includes AK-47s in blank-firing, blank-adapted and nonfiring versions. Armorers (or sometimes licensed prop masters) are responsible for storing them on set. Guns are not supposed to leave their hands until cameras are rolling; actors hand them back as soon as “cut” or “wrap” is called and the cameras stop.“There’s a big difference between being an expert with firearms and handling them on a set,” said Jeremy Goldstein, a prop master and licensed armorer in Los Angeles whose credits include films for Netflix, Amazon and Universal. “On a set, you’re around people who have never held guns and who don’t understand the gravity of what can happen.” (Mr. Goldstein, like Mr. Zanoff and Mr. Brown, has no connection with “Rust.”)Studios typically require any cast members who will be performing with firearms to undergo training on a shooting range in advance. There, they are taught safety and given general information about how guns work. Independent productions, for reasons of cost and time, may handle safety demonstrations on set. Various unions operate safety hotlines where anyone on set can anonymously report concerns.It is not clear precisely what kind of gun was being used in “Rust,” what it was loaded with or what exactly was happening on the set when it was fired. It was also not known what kind of training the cast members had. “Regarding the projectile, a focus of the investigation is what type it was and how did it get there,” said Juan Ríos, a spokesman for the Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office.A New York Times reporter got a sense of what usually happens on a set right before a scene involving simulated gunfire. It happened in October 2015 on the Baton Rouge, La., set of the remake of “Roots.” Before the cameras rolled, a crew leader stood in the middle of the wooded location, with dozens of performers and crew watching, and gave a safety speech in an urgent, serious tone. The scene they were about to film involved cannons and gunfire from period weapons.“All right everybody,” the crew leader said. “We have to discharge the gun. So we’re not playing with toys, guys. If something goes wrong, I’m going to yell cut, and we’re all going to back off calmly.“The cannons are all faced out. We’ve all been through this training, we’ve rehearsed it over and over, we all get it. But pay attention, this is not a game. I keep saying that, guys. These guns are for real.”Melena Ryzik More

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    Dorothy Steel, Whose Big-Screen Career Had a Late Start, Dies at 95

    She was cast in “Black Panther” at 90, not long after she began acting professionally. “As soon as we saw her,” the movie’s casting director said, “we wanted her.”Dorothy Steel was 90 and had been acting professionally for little more than a year when her agent asked her, in late 2016, if she wanted to audition for a role in “Black Panther,” the Marvel Studios film set in the fantastical African nation of Wakanda.She was uncertain. So she said no.“I said, ‘There is no way I’m going to be in no comic strip at my age,’” she recalled telling her agent, Cindy Butler, when she appeared on Steve Harvey’s television show in 2018. “But she’s very persistent. I have to give her credit. She said, ‘Miss Dorothy, you can do this.’”She relented after getting an extra push from her grandson, Niles Wardell.“She was on the fence about it,” Mr. Wardell said in a phone interview, “and when she brought it to my attention, I said: ‘Grandma, you always talk about stepping out on faith and doing the things you love. This is your opportunity.’”He added, “She wasn’t so much concerned that it was a comic-strip movie, but that the role was too big for her.”Before she auditioned, Ms. Steel studied videos of Nelson Mandela on YouTube to help her develop a credible accent. She then auditioned on video for the role of a tribe leader, reading lines from the script. Ms. Butler emailed the video to Sarah Finn, the film’s casting director, who quickly agreed to hire her.“We found her late in the process,” Ms. Finn said by phone. “She was extraordinary. As soon as we saw her, we wanted her. She had an incredible spirit, warmth, humor and intelligence. We were thrilled to cast her.”She was in a few scenes but said only one line, to T’Challa, the king of Wakanda and the movie’s title character, played by Chadwick Boseman: “Wakanda does not need a warrior right now. We need a king.”Ms. Steel died on Oct. 14 in a hospital in Detroit at 95. She had completed most of her filming for the “Black Panther” sequel, “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever,” when she got sick. She was flown home by Marvel to Detroit, where she had been living for the last year.Her grandson, her only immediate survivor, confirmed the death.Dorothy May Steel was born on Feb. 23, 1926, in Flint, Mich. She worked for many years as a senior revenue officer for the Internal Revenue Service in Detroit. Her marriage to Warren Wardell ended with his death.After retiring in 1984, she lived for 20 years in the Caribbean, on St. Croix, before moving to Atlanta to be near her grandson and her son, Scott, who died in 2018.Ms. Steel began acting in her 80s in the annual plays staged at the Frank Bailey Senior Center in Riverdale, Ga., a suburb of Atlanta. She had never acted before “and wanted to try something new to see if she could do it,” said Elaine Jackson, the former manager of the center, who wrote the plays, including one in which Ms. Steel played a teenager.Ms. Butler said that while Ms. Steel was playing the voice of God in one of the plays, Greg Alan Williams, an actor and drama teacher, happened to be there and was impressed enough to offer her free lessons. Another student, a client of Ms. Butler’s, suggested that Ms. Steel sign with Ms. Butler.“So she came in one day and I said, ‘Spend a day with me,’” Ms. Butler said. “After that meeting I had to sign her. She was going to work.”Within weeks, Ms. Butler had found work for Ms. Steel. It was her presence, Ms. Butler said, that brought her jobs.“When she spoke, she spoke with authority,” she said. “Her voice was strong. And at her age she was memorizing lines without a problem.”Ms. Steel’s credits also include “Merry Christmas, Baby” (2016), a television movie; “Daisy Winters” (2017), a feature film; and four episodes of the prime-time soap opera “Saints & Sinners” in 2016, as well as a commercial for the South Carolina Lottery and a public service announcement for the DeKalb County Board of Health.Acting provided her with a “protective cubicle,” Ms. Steel told The Washington Post in 2018. “You’re protected from the world,” she said. “And that’s the first time in my life I felt absolutely secure.”On the set of “Black Panther,” she recalled, she became a grandmotherly presence to the cast, and each day she would get a hug and kiss from Mr. Boseman, who died in 2020.“We were one big melting pot of Black people, and we knew we were doing something special that had never been done before,” Ms. Steel told WSB-TV in Atlanta in 2018. “You know?” More

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    Brandon Lee and Other Deaths on Set

    Accidents on sets have resulted in numerous deaths and injuries over the years, some bringing about lawsuits or changes in safety guidelines.Behind the magic of movies and television are actors and props, crew members, stunt performers and a sometimes dangerous set of circumstances for the people filming scenes.On Thursday, the potential danger on some sets made news around the world, after the actor Alec Baldwin discharged a gun that was used as a prop on the set of a western in New Mexico, killing the film’s director of photography and wounding the movie’s director.The authorities said the shooting took place in the middle of a scene that was either being rehearsed or filmed. Many other details of what happened remained unclear on Friday.Accidents on movie and television sets, like stuntmen and stuntwomen being injured during action sequences or actors getting killed when props malfunction, have occurred with some regularity over the last several decades. There have been at least 194 serious television- and film-set accidents in the United States from 1990 to 2014, and at least 43 deaths, according to The Associated Press.Here’s a partial list of set accidents from recent history.‘Twilight Zone: The Movie’The actor Vic Morrow on the set of the ABC series “Combat!”Moviestore Collection Ltd / Alamy Stock PhotoA helicopter crash on the Los Angeles set of the “Twilight Zone” movie killed the actor Vic Morrow and two child actors, Renee Shinn Chen and My-ca Dinh Lee, in July 1982.The tail rotor of the helicopter was hit by debris from explosives detonated in a scene depicting the Vietnam War. The main rotor of the helicopter struck and killed Mr. Morrow and the children as the aircraft pitched into a river on the set.The film’s director, John Landis, was charged with involuntary manslaughter in connection with the deaths, as were with four other members of the film crew, including the helicopter pilot. After a trial that lasted nearly a year and nine days of deliberation by a jury, all five were acquitted in May 1987. In the aftermath of the accident, the Directors Guild of America created a safety committee to put in place safety guidelines.‘Cover Up’Jon-Erik Hexum in “Cover Up,” a CBS detective action television series, in 1984.CBS, via Getty ImagesThe actor Jon-Erik Hexum accidentally shot himself in the head while playing Russian roulette on the set of the television series “Cover Up” in October 1984.Mr. Hexum, 26, had loaded three empty cartridges and two gunpowder-filled blanks into a high-powered handgun before firing the gun, according to a detective on the case.Mr. Hexum sustained a fractured skull and underwent five hours of surgery. He died several days later. The police ruled the shooting an accident.‘The Crow’Brandon Lee in “The Crow.”Allstar Picture Library Ltd. / Alamy Stock PhotoBrandon Lee, an actor and the son of the martial-arts star Bruce Lee, died in March 1993 during the filming of “The Crow,” after being shot at with a gun that was supposed to fire blank cartridges.The tip of a .44-caliber bullet had become lodged in the gun’s barrel in filming a close-up scene, and dislodged when a blank cartridge was fired. The bullet pierced Mr. Lee’s abdomen, damaging several organs and lodging in his spine.Mr. Lee, 28, was the star of the film, about a rock musician who is killed by a street gang and then comes back to life with supernatural powers.An executive producer of the movie said at the time that when a blank is fired, a piece of soft wadding normally comes out of the gun, but in this instance, a metallic projectile came out. A police investigation into the shooting found no evidence of criminal wrongdoing and no charges were filed.‘Midnight Rider’Richard and Elizabeth Jones at a memorial for their daughter, Sarah Jones, who was killed in 2014 by a train while shooting the film “Midnight Rider.”David Mcnew/Getty ImagesSarah Jones, a camera assistant, died on the set of the independent film “Midnight Rider,” about the musician Gregg Allman, in Georgia in February 2014. Ms. Jones was killed while helping prepare a shot that involved placing a bed across the tracks of a CSX railroad line.After two trains passed, crew members on the film believed they would have a safe interval to get the shot, part of a planned dream sequence. But a third train appeared, moving at high speed through the set, killing Ms. Jones and injuring others.Later that year, the family of Ms. Jones reached a settlement with 11 defendants in a lawsuit over her death. The terms of the settlement were not disclosed. In 2015, the film’s director, Randall Miller, pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter and served a year in jail. He was also sentenced to 10 years of probation.‘Resident Evil: The Final Chapter’Olivia Jackson, a stuntwoman for the actor Milla Jovovich, was severely injured while filming a sequence for “Resident Evil: The Final Chapter” in South Africa in September 2015. While riding a motorcycle, Ms. Jackson collided with a piece of camera equipment, according to Deadline.The accident nearly killed Ms. Jackson, leaving her with multiple injuries including disfigurement, several nerves torn out of her spinal cord and a partly amputated left arm.In April 2020, the High Court in South Africa ruled in favor of Ms. Jackson and against a company involved in the movie.Two months after Ms. Jackson was injured, another crew member, Ricardo Cornelius, died after a Humvee slid off a rotating platform and crushed him against a wall, Deadline reported.‘The Walking Dead’A scene from “The Walking Dead” featuring, from left, Andrew Lincoln, Danai Gurira and Melissa Ponzio.Gene Page/AMC , via Associated PressJohn Bernecker, a stuntman for AMC’s “The Walking Dead,” died in July 2017 after falling on a balcony set in Georgia.Mr. Bernecker, who had been an active stuntman since at least 2009 and had appeared in films such as “Get Out” and “The Fate of the Furious,” died of blunt-force trauma, a coroner said. Production of the show’s eighth season was temporarily shut down after the accident.Mr. Bernecker’s family filed a wrongful-death lawsuit in early 2018 against AMC Networks, the production company Stalwart Films and other parties in Georgia, claiming they had failed to make the show with appropriate safety measures. The suit claimed that some fall protection was in place but that airbags and spotters were not used, and that the padding did not fully cover the area below the fall. Mr. Bernecker landed on his head or shoulder area.In December 2019, a jury found AMC Networks not to be negligent but awarded more than $8 million in civil damages. The Georgia Court of Appeals overturned the decision in March 2021.‘Deadpool 2’A woman was killed while attempting a stunt on a motorcycle on the set of “Deadpool 2” in Vancouver, British Columbia, in August 2017. The woman, Joi Harris, was acting in her first film as a stuntwoman, according to Deadline.Ms. Harris, 40, had worked as a motorcycle racer before joining the crew of the film, and was serving as a stunt double for the actor Zazie Beetz. More

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    How Hans Zimmer Conjured the Otherworldly Sounds of ‘Dune’

    The composer worked with a far-flung “band” of collaborators who sung, scraped metal, invented instruments and more for the score.When the composer Hans Zimmer was approached to score “Dune,” the new movie adaptation of Frank Herbert’s epic sci-fi novel, he knew one thing absolutely: It would not sound like “Star Wars.” Musically, those films drew on influences that ranged from Holst and Stravinsky to classic movie scores of the ’30s and ’40s. Even the rollicking tune performed by the bug-eyed creatures in the Cantina was inspired by Benny Goodman.For “Dune,” by contrast, Zimmer wanted to conjure sounds that nobody had ever heard before.“I felt like there was a freedom to get away from a Western orchestra,” he said recently, speaking in the Warner Bros. offices overlooking Hudson Yards in New York. “I can spend days making up sounds.”The resulting soundtrack might be one of Zimmer’s most unorthodox and most provocative. Along with synthesizers, you can hear scraping metal, Indian bamboo flutes, Irish whistles, a juddering drum phrase that Zimmer calls an “anti-groove,” seismic rumbles of distorted guitar, a war horn that is actually a cello and singing that defies Western musical notation — just to name a few of its disparate elements.The score combines the gigantic, chest-thumping sound of Zimmer’s best known work of the last decade with the spirit of radical sonic experimentation. The weirdness is entirely befitting the saga of a futuristic, intergalactic civilization whose denizens are stalked by giant sandworms and revere a hallucinogenic substance called spice.Timothée Chalamet stars in the latest film version of ‘Dune,’ directed by Denis Villeneuve.Warner Bros.No hallucinogens were imbibed as part of the composing process though: “Weirdly, I’m the only rock ’n’ roller who never did any drugs,” said Zimmer, who has a wide, boyish grin that belies his 64 years, particularly when discussing his more outrageous musical endeavors.Some time after his stint with the band the Buggles, the German-born, California-based composer made his name with scores for “Rain Man,” “The Lion King” and “The Thin Red Line.” More recently he scored the latest Bond outing, “No Time to Die.” But to many he is perhaps best known for his work on Christopher Nolan movies, including “Interstellar,” “Inception” and his Batman series.In fact, Zimmer turned down an offer to work on Nolan’s last film, “Tenet,” to focus his energies on “Dune.” In a way, the composer said, he has been working on this soundtrack ever since he first read the novel as a teenager. “I’ve been thinking about ‘Dune’ for nearly 50 years. So I took it very seriously.” He avoided seeing the 1984 movie adaptation, directed by David Lynch — featuring music by Toto — to preserve the vision of the movie in his head.As part of his creative process, Zimmer spent a week in Utah tuning in to the sound of the desert. “I wanted to hear the wind howling,” he said.Zimmer’s score is so prominent in “Dune” that at times the movie feels like an otherworldly equivalent of a “Planet Earth”-style nature spectacular. “‘Dune’ is by far my most musical film,” said the director Denis Villeneuve, who also hired Zimmer for “Blade Runner 2049.” “The score is almost ubiquitous, participating directly in the narrative of the film. It’s spiritual.”In fact, Zimmer wrote more music than could fit in the film. In addition to the original soundtrack, there’s “The Dune Sketchbook (Music From the Soundtrack),” comprising extended sonic explorations, and “The Art and Soul of Dune,” a companion soundtrack to the book of the same title that goes behind the scenes of the film. (There’s still more written for the hoped-for sequel.)It’s Zimmer’s name in the credits and on the soundtrack releases, but he prefers to think of himself as a member of an unusual band that includes a select group of composer-collaborators: “If someone has a great idea, I’m the first one to say, yes. Let’s go on that adventure.”The composer David Fleming, who gets an “additional music” credit for his contributions to the score, explained, “We create and collaborate on ideas, experimenting as long as the filmmakers will allow us to before we finally start applying those ideas to picture.” He described “band meetings” as an open forum, adding, “More than anyone else, you can count on Hans to push a bold idea one step further than you think it could possibly go, and then push some more.”Guthrie Govan, a slide guitarist whom Zimmer discovered on YouTube, described the process: “He’ll outline the desired end result rather than prescribing a specific means of getting there. For one cue, he just said, ‘This needs to sound like sand.’”To create the unorthodox score, Zimmer gave his collaborators cues like “This needs to sound like sand.”Warner Bros.Entirely new instruments ended up being created from scratch. (With pandemic-era travel restrictions in place, many of these elements were recorded separately in different parts of the world.) Winds player Pedro Eustache built a 21-foot horn and a “contrabass duduk,” a supersized version of the ancient Armenian woodwind instrument. Chas Smith, working in isolation in his barn in rural California, struck, scraped and scratched various metallic instruments of his own invention, including one made from springs and saw blades, and another made of Inconel 718, a superalloy used in cryogenic storage tanks and SpaceX engines. In the film, Smith’s complex, resonant tonal textures accompany visuals of desert sands and windblown spice.One of the major and more surprising musical moments in “Dune” occurs during a ceremonious arrival on the desert planet Arrakis. The scene is announced with the portentous drone of bagpipes, an aural assault generated by a battalion of 30 highland pipers playing in a converted church in Scotland. Ear protection had to be worn: the volume reached 130 decibels, the equivalent of an air-raid siren..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-16ed7iq{width:100%;display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;-webkit-box-pack:center;-webkit-justify-content:center;-ms-flex-pack:center;justify-content:center;padding:10px 0;background-color:white;}.css-pmm6ed{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;}.css-pmm6ed > :not(:first-child){margin-left:5px;}.css-5gimkt{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:0.8125rem;font-weight:700;-webkit-letter-spacing:0.03em;-moz-letter-spacing:0.03em;-ms-letter-spacing:0.03em;letter-spacing:0.03em;text-transform:uppercase;color:#333;}.css-5gimkt:after{content:’Collapse’;}.css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;-webkit-transform:rotate(180deg);-ms-transform:rotate(180deg);transform:rotate(180deg);}.css-eb027h{max-height:5000px;-webkit-transition:max-height 0.5s ease;transition:max-height 0.5s ease;}.css-6mllg9{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;position:relative;opacity:0;}.css-6mllg9:before{content:”;background-image:linear-gradient(180deg,transparent,#ffffff);background-image:-webkit-linear-gradient(270deg,rgba(255,255,255,0),#ffffff);height:80px;width:100%;position:absolute;bottom:0px;pointer-events:none;}.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;}That unholy din in particular permeated Zimmer’s home during his late-night work sessions. “My daughter told me the other day she has bagpipe PTSD.”But perhaps the most mystical presence in the score is a choir of female voices, singing, whispering and chanting in an invented language. “The true driving force of this novel is always the female characters,” Zimmer said. “It’s really the women that craft the destiny of everybody.”One arresting voice comes through like a war cry, all ancient, melismatic syllables in unsettled rhythms. These vocals were recorded in a closet in Brooklyn, the makeshift studio of the music therapist and singer Loire Cotler. In that space, sitting on the floor, with clothes dangling above her head and her laptop perched on a cardboard box, Cotler sang for hours a day, emerging when it was dark. “It became a sacred musical laboratory,” Cotler told me.Stylistically, Cotler drew on everything from Jewish niggun (wordless song) to South Indian vocal percussion, Celtic lament to Tuvan overtone singing. Even the sound of John Coltrane’s saxophone was an influence, she said. “When you start to hybridize these far-flung influences and techniques, interesting sounds start to happen,” she said. “It’s a vocal technique called ‘Hans Zimmer.’”Villeneuve has made headlines for insisting that “Dune” is the kind of multisensory experience that demands to be seen on a big screen in a cinema. In the same way, Zimmer’s score is one that demands to be experienced via a good cinema sound system.“I write in surround sound — but it’s not just about the big sound and big screen,” Zimmer said. “It’s about sharing something together. Shared dreaming.” More