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    ‘Nine Days’ Review: Belief in the Beforelife

    In this drama featuring Winston Duke and Zazie Beetz, unborn souls are given a chance at life on Earth.“The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness,” wrote Vladimir Nabokov. We have been imagining and describing one of those ostensible eternities — the afterlife — for millenniums. “Nine Days,” the ambitious and often impressive debut feature from the writer-director Edson Oda, surprises by positing a prelife world, and a vetting process determining which souls are awarded a term on earth.In a small house in the middle of a desert, a stocky, quiet man named Will (Winston Duke) watches a bank of tube TVs, recording their feeds on VHS cassettes. These POVs show the lives of the people he’s “passed.”Just as he’s meeting, one by one, a new group of individuals to assess, one of his people in the world ends their life, which shakes Will to the core. He gets obsessed over why. Will this affect his ability to look at his new charges with fairness?“Nine Days” is more about questions than answers. It’s not an overtly political film, in any sense. Will’s screens don’t seem to depict any human beings who aren’t at least in the vicinity of the middle class. When Will is pitching his candidates on his process, he tells them of “the amazing opportunity of life,” and that if they pass they will be “born in a fruitful environment.” But later Will blurts out some thoughts to his friend and neighbor Kyo (Benedict Wong) suggesting Will believes himself something of a con man.The candidates are, arguably, stock characters with some sensitively added value. Alexander (Tony Hale) just wants to have beers and hang out. When he learns that Will himself once lived on earth — the film’s realm encompasses souls both “passed” and those never born — he can’t figure out why Will is reluctant. We know that Emma (Zazie Beetz) is going to be a special kind of free spirit by the insouciance she displays when showing up late for her first appointment.Oda is a very assured and sometimes inspired filmmaker, and he handles his actors beautifully. Duke and Beetz in particular deliver performances for the ages. And the movie’s inquiries, about ethics, morality, consciousness and the ability to hang on in this brief crack of light we’re sharing at the moment, are pertinent. But the narrative conceits of “Nine Days,” while exquisitely constructed, are intricate to the point of laborious. At times the movie almost sinks under their weight.Nine DaysRated R for language and themes. Running time 2 hours 4 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Never Gonna Snow Again’ Review: You’re Getting Warmer

    There’s a stranger in town, and his touch is hypnotic, which is just what these icy, disaffected people needed.When Zenia (Alec Utgoff), a handsome masseur with an enigmatic smile, arrives at a wealthy gated community in Poland, he quickly gains a reputation among the depressed locals for his extraordinary — perhaps even magical — healing abilities. It doesn’t hurt that the majority of his clients are anguished women, and that Zenia’s warm, attentive touch purges them of their routine misery, if only for a little while.From Edward Scissorhands to Peter Sellers in “Being There,” the curious outsider figures as a spiritual balm to their bourgeois malaise. In many ways, “Never Gonna Snow Again,” which the Polish filmmaker Małgorzata Szumowska co-directed with the cinematographer Michał Englert, follows suit.Zenia, a Ukrainian migrant worker born exactly seven years before the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, is no otherworldly idiot — though the condescension he faces suggests his employers believe otherwise.As Zenia becomes a community fixture, the lives of his alienated clients unfold in a series of vignettes, at turns bleakly somber, but also cheeky. We meet, among others, a housewife overwhelmed by her impudent children; an alcoholic woman obsessed with her three bulldogs; a bohemianesque widow whose creepy son manufactures synthetic drugs. Bored, they begin to lust after Zenia while dealing with their anxieties around class, climate change and Polish identity — issues that Szumowska and Englert subtly integrate, yet leave opaque.From the sterile symmetry of the neighborhood, composed of lifeless McMansions, the film cuts away to glimmering images of a shadowy forest, moments of uncanny enchantment meant to visualize the sublime experience produced by Zenia’s hypnosis sessions.Utgoff is irresistibly compelling, instilling in his character a silent yet singular presence worthy of the “superhero” status that he ultimately acquires. Yet Zenia, the flesh and bones human, emerges in fragments — a shimmying dance routine, a moonlit scooter ride with his security guard pal — indicating there’s much more here than meets the eye, if we could only truly see.Never Gonna Snow AgainNot rated. In Polish, Russian, French and Vietnamese, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 53 minutes. In theaters. More

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    Reasoning to Release Bill Cosby From Prison Disputed by Some Legal Analysts

    The court decision that reversed the sexual assault conviction of Bill Cosby has prompted an unusual level of legal debate about the appropriate parameters of appellate review.The Pennsylvania Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Bill Cosby’s conviction has opened an unusually vigorous debate among the legal community in that state, and beyond, with critics suggesting the justices had overstepped their bounds in reversing findings of fact embraced by the trial court.Since being freed from prison last month, Cosby, 84, has tried to portray the decision as a full exoneration.But the court did not find Cosby to be innocent of charges he had drugged and sexually assaulted Andrea Constand at his home outside Philadelphia in 2004.What it found was that prosecutors had violated Cosby’s due process rights by ignoring an oral promise a prior district attorney, Bruce L. Castor Jr., says he made to Cosby in 2005, assuring him that he would be immune from prosecution in the case.Castor said he had determined there was insufficient evidence to charge Cosby. Castor hoped, he said, that by promising immunity he would remove Cosby’s ability to cite his Fifth Amendment privilege against self-incrimination and induce him to testify in any civil suit Constand might file.Constand did file suit, and Cosby testified, acknowledging giving quaaludes to women he wanted to have sex with. At his criminal trial more than a decade later, prosecutors entered that statement into evidence.The Supreme Court ruled that Cosby had relied on Castor’s assurances when he provided the potentially incriminating evidence and that Castor’s successors, bound by his promise, should never have charged Cosby years later.But critics of the decision say that, unlike two lower courts, the justices ignored compelling reasons to question whether such a promise of immunity ever existed.“I think the court was in error and read the case incorrectly,” said Lynne M. Abraham, a former Philadelphia district attorney and judge. “The court’s decision was a terrible blow to victims and a blow to prosecutors’ ability to prosecute someone where the evidence tended to show he was a predator and when all sorts of things suggested there wasn’t a promise.”The Supreme Court decided to reverse Cosby’s sexual assault conviction because it found that Cosby had relied on a 2005 promise of immunity from Bruce L. Castor Jr., the district attorney at the time.Matt Rourke/Associated PressWhat is more, these critics say the court overstepped its traditional bounds as an appeals tribunal in reversing the findings of fact by the Montgomery County Court of Common Pleas, the trial court that had decided no binding promise existed. Appellate courts typically do not overturn findings of fact by the trial court if they are backed by the record. They serve to examine whether lower courts correctly interpreted the law and followed the procedures to ensure a fair trial. The facts, many legal analysts argue, are best determined by the trial court, which has heard witnesses and overseen evidence in person.“The most fundamental thing that struck me,” said Dennis McAndrews, a Pennsylvania lawyer and former prosecutor, “was they said the trial judge’s findings were supported by the record and they were bound by them and then they went off and made their own factual findings. It’s exceptional to see an appellate court go to such lengths to find their own facts.”Several veteran Pennsylvania-based lawyers said they could not remember a Supreme Court decision that had spurred so much second-guessing. Some law experts have taken to Twitter to publish critiques of the decision.Reaction to the ruling has been strong outside legal circles too, especially among the more than 50 other women who have accused Cosby of sexual abuse and who, because the statutes of limitations had run out, viewed the Constand case as perhaps their last shot at justice.In the midst of it all, the chief justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, Max Baer, decided to discuss the ruling on television — a rarity for judges. He defended it and called Cosby’s prosecution a “reprehensible bait and switch” by the government.To be sure, there are lawyers who agree with him and who applaud the court’s 6-1 ruling, a notable consensus on a difficult matter. They believe it delivered a strong message about prosecutorial overreach — about district attorneys’ sticking by the promises they make, even if those promises were ill-advised. “They got it right on the due process violation because what Castor did was basically a promise,” said David Rudovsky, a defense attorney and senior fellow at University of Pennsylvania Law School.But the “promise” remains a matter of much dispute.Castor said that, although he believed Constand’s account, she had hurt her credibility as a complainant by waiting a year to report Cosby and by continuing to have contact with him after the alleged assault. He said he decided he could not secure a conviction, so he made the promise, he said, as a tactic to get Constand a measure of justice in the civil case.But the promise was never written down. The prosecutor who handled the Cosby investigation with Castor, his chief deputy, Risa Vetri Ferman, said he never told her about it. Castor pointed to a news release he had issued announcing the end of the criminal investigation as evidence that an immunity agreement existed. But the news release does not mention anything about immunity. It does mention the anticipated civil case.Daniel Filler, dean of Drexel University’s Kline School of Law, said one has to question whether the average person would have gotten the benefit of the doubt that Cosby did. “Because there is no documentation that this promise was made, only this public statement that does not track exactly with what Castor said,” he said.Castor said he briefed one of Cosby’s lawyers at the time about his plan to offer Cosby immunity. But the lawyer, Walter Phillips, was dead by the time the promise became an issue and Cosby was criminally charged in 2015. Another of Cosby’s lawyers from the original case, John Schmitt, testified that Phillips had told him about it.Castor said he also discussed the immunity arrangement at the time with Constand’s lawyers. The two lawyers, Dolores M. Troiani and Bebe H. Kivitz, denied that.Andrea Constand, left, and her lawyer Dolores Troiani. The lawyer has denied that Castor told her about the promise of immunity he says he made to Cosby.Matt Slocum/Associated PressGiven that there was no written immunity agreement, several lawyers said they found it odd that Cosby never drew attention to the promise he had secured before taking questions at his deposition in the civil case. Constand’s civil case ended in 2006 in a settlement under which she received $3.38 million. During the negotiations, court papers show that Cosby’s lawyers sought to include a provision barring her from cooperating with any future law enforcement investigation, though by Castor’s account, the lawyers had already secured immunity for their client.Critics of the Supreme Court’s decision point to what they say are the inconsistent explanations Castor gave about what he had agreed to. When the Montgomery County District Attorney’s office reopened the investigation into Cosby, Castor alerted the office that its prosecution might be hampered by a promise he had made. Castor was at the time campaigning to regain his former post as district attorney against an opponent who later made Castor’s decision not to prosecute Cosby in 2005 an issue in the race. Castor told the office in an email that his agreement with Cosby meant that the deposition testimony could not be used against the entertainer. But he said he had not given Cosby full immunity.“Naturally, if a prosecution could be made out without using what Cosby said, or anything derived from what Cosby said, I believed then and continue to believe that a prosecution is not precluded,” Castor wrote in the email.A few months later in court, he testified that, actually, the promise had extended full immunity to Cosby.The trial judge ultimately ruled in 2016 that Castor’s explanations of the agreement, and Schmitt’s corroborating testimony, were not credible.In an interview, Castor denied he had been inconsistent and said his meaning had always been that Cosby could never be prosecuted on the Constand charges. “The only way to guarantee, to unlock the Fifth Amendment protection was to guarantee he would not be prosecuted,” he said. He said that when he had said he was still open to prosecuting Cosby, he meant that prosecutors might be able to find evidence in the testimony about Cosby’s encounters with other women, not Constand.In its recent ruling, the Supreme Court agreed that Castor’s descriptions of the promise were “inconsistent and equivocal,” but it held that he had been the district attorney, a powerful position, and that Cosby had a right to rely on his assurances. It emphasized the fact that, although there had been no formal agreement, Cosby had agreed to sit for four days of deposition in the Constand civil suit, a decision the justices viewed as evidence that a promise must have existed. By their reasoning, Castor’s successors were breaking that promise, however informal, and undermining his due process rights by using his deposition against Cosby.“The law is clear that, based upon their unique role in the criminal justice system, prosecutors generally are bound by their assurances, particularly when defendants rely to their detriment upon those guarantees,” the court’s majority opinion said.In particular, the Supreme Court parsed the language of the 2005 news release in which Castor announced his decision not to prosecute Cosby. It read, in part: “The District Attorney does not intend to expound publicly on the details of his decision for fear that his opinions and analysis might be given undue weight by jurors in any contemplated civil action. District Attorney Castor cautions all parties to this matter that he will reconsider this decision should the need arise.”The trial court had read Castor’s statement as an acknowledgment that, rather than agreeing to never prosecute Cosby, Castor had retained the option of revisiting the case. That interpretation was in line with what Castor told the Philadelphia Inquirer about the news release in 2015. “I put in there that if any evidence surfaced that was admissible then I would revisit the issue,” he said.The Supreme Court, however, held that Castor was only holding open the possibility that he might again publicly discuss the case.Some legal analysts had thought Cosby stood a chance of overturning his conviction on different grounds. The trial court had allowed prosecutors to bring in five other women, who were not part of the case, to testify that they too had been drugged and assaulted by Cosby. Cosby’s lawyers had argued that a jury would have a difficult time looking past the testimony of the women in deciding what had happened with Constand.To the surprise of many lawyers watching the case, the Supreme Court said it did not need to address that issue because it was moot once the jurists had decided the prosecution should not have happened because of the promise.“The very premise that somehow this promise was made, it’s not in writing and this very rich, well-lawyered person relied upon it and it’s therefore enforceable, is crazy,” said Nancy Erika Smith, a civil rights lawyer in New Jersey. “The trial court saw Bruce Castor testify and found Bruce Castor not credible, usually that’s the end of the story.”The Supreme Court majority argued in its decision that it had not, in fact, gone beyond its role, and had not revisited facts already decided by the trial court. It pointed out that it had joined the trial court in finding that there had been no formal agreement. Two of the justices said Castor’s explanations for his actions were “odd and ever-shifting.”John F.X. Reilly, a former deputy district attorney in Pennsylvania’s Delaware County, said he was not persuaded.“The majority acknowledged but overlooked a fundamental principle of appellate review,” he said, “deference to a trial court’s factual findings that are supported by the record.”In reversing Cosby’s conviction, the Supreme Court ruled additionally that he could not be tried again on the Constand charges. Judge Baer, on television, said, unpopular or not, the decision was meant to prevent government overreach.“Nobody is sympathetic to Bill Cosby,” he said. “That’s to protect 13 million Pennsylvanians against that kind of conduct.”Prosecutors said they were examining the possibility of appeal. More

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    Vicky Krieps Gave Hollywood One More Try. It Wasn’t So Bad.

    The “Phantom Thread” actress, burned by the experience of promoting the movie in the United States, retreated to art-house obscurity. Now, she’s back in the M. Night Shyamalan blockbuster “Old.”RAMBROUCH, Luxembourg — Four years ago, Vicky Krieps seemed destined for Hollywood stardom. The Luxembourgian actress had emerged from near obscurity to star in Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Phantom Thread,” in which she portrayed the tormented muse of a domineering fashion designer played by Daniel Day-Lewis. Her performance — vulnerable, prickly, anguished — garnered critical raves and suggested the arrival of a major new talent.Then Krieps seemed to vanish, turning down a host of Hollywood offers, including a big-budget action movie, and instead taking smaller roles, mostly in European art-house films and German television.“I needed two years,” she said recently, sitting in the backyard of her family’s 200-year-old home in rural Luxembourg. The experience of being in the public eye, she said, “was almost traumatizing.”This summer, however, Krieps, 37, is back in the spotlight, with lead roles in two movies at this year’s Cannes Film Festival (Mia Hansen-Love’s “Bergman Island” and Mathieu Amalric’s “Hold Me Tight”). And in a move that signals an end to her self-imposed Hollywood exile, she is also starring in M. Night Shyamalan’s glossy new horror fable, “Old,” which arrived in U.S. movie theaters on July 23.Krieps, who is self-deprecating and warm in person but prone to earnest tangents about art and nature, said that the notion of “Old” being shown in so many theaters was stressing her out.“I carry this huge paradox: I’ve become an actor, but I don’t want to be seen — it doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “I’m really scared that people might recognize me.”In “Phantom Thread,” Krieps plays the muse and lover of a dressmaker, played by Daniel Day-Lewis.Laurie Sparham/Focus FeaturesIn “Old,” Gael García Bernal and Krieps play a couple who witness their children turn into adults in a span of hours.Universal PicturesIn the film, which also stars Gael García Bernal, she plays a mother of two who, while on a family vacation, becomes trapped on a beach where people grow old at a vastly accelerated rate. Her character, who witnesses her children turn into adults in a span of hours, is the film’s emotional anchor, and Krieps has received widespread praise for her performance.In a Zoom interview, Shyamalan said that he had been a fan of the actress since “Phantom Thread,” and that he had been drawn to her “classical dignity.” He added: “It’s so beautiful having someone of her caliber being so vulnerable at the center of a genre film.”Her decision to do the movie, she said, stemmed from a confluence of factors. Amid the pandemic, she had been thinking a lot about the nature of time: “I felt that the film could tell us something about how we as people live in a construction of time and space, running from A to B, but really running from ourselves.”But she also said she had increasingly come to terms with anxieties that emerged with the release of “Phantom Thread.” At that time, she said, she had approached her career — and life — without much of a plan, and had been unprepared for the promotional demands and industry attention.Krieps, who now mostly lives in Berlin with her two children, said that her desire for self-effacement was largely rooted in her upbringing in Luxembourg, a tiny duchy squeezed between Belgium, France and Germany. The country’s size is conducive to modesty, she said.Krieps said that “Old” had something to say about how people are “running from A to B, but really running from ourselves.”Julien Mignot for The New York TimesA self-described “dreamy” teenager, after high school she left Luxembourg for South Africa, where she spent a year volunteering as a teacher for children with AIDS. While there, she had an epiphany about pursuing an acting career in a damascene moment involving a low-lying mountain that she glimpsed from a road. “I had a deep connection to this mountain and its energy,” she said, “and I decided I wanted to be someone who can capture this feeling, and release it, maybe on a stage.”After enrolling in (and leaving) acting school in Zurich, she cobbled together a living with mostly small roles in German television and film. Then one day she received an email with a video audition request that she distractedly misread on her phone as an invitation to try out for a student film project. “I was sitting on the bus and had just started an interesting conversation with a stranger — you know how it is,” she said.She sent in a submission, recorded on her phone, and it wasn’t until she received a call from her agent alerting her that Anderson had liked the video that she realized it was for “Phantom Thread.”The movie’s press tour, she said, had been a culture shock. She had never had a credit card, and when she arrived in Los Angeles, she was surprised to discover that she would need one to check into her hotel. “I said, ‘I’ll go to a campground — I don’t care.’” (The hotel eventually relented.)Then came her media training: “It was a woman telling me what was wrong about me and to not say my opinions,” she said. “I walked through L.A. in shock, thinking, ‘Oh my God, is this what they want from me?’”That experience cemented her decision to evade international scrutiny by returning to Europe. Her work there included a supporting role in “Das Boot,” a German TV series and, more recently, “Hold Me Tight” in French and “Bergman Island,” Hansen-Love’s long-gestating English-language project. That film, set to be released in the United States on Oct. 15, centers on a filmmaker couple (played by Krieps and Tim Roth) who visit the Swedish island of Faro, where the director Ingmar Bergman once lived.Hansen-Love, a French movie director, said in a telephone interview that Krieps had a “melancholy that is very European” and compared her acting style to that of Isabelle Huppert.“I had thought: ‘Phantom Thread’ will go away again, people will forget me,” Krieps said.Julien Mignot for The New York TimesIn “Bergman Island,” Krieps’s character has a series of encounters that make her question her role as a mother, partner and artist. Krieps said that her character’s search for an identity had also helped her overcome some of her own reluctance about Hollywood.“This woman is trying to find a solution to the question of ‘Who am I?’ and ‘What is real?’ The answer is: There is no real,” she said, adding that the realization had pushed her to become more open-minded about what projects she wanted to pursue.Krieps said she would be willing to make more big-budget American movies in the future, though her post-pandemic schedule is already packed. She recently completed filming “Corsage,” a German-language biopic of Empress Elisabeth of Austria, and her upcoming projects include a “Three Musketeers” adaptation and a film by the Belgian director Philippe Van Leeuw, in which she is set to play a United States border agent, her first onscreen attempt at an American accent.Her return to U.S. filmmaking, she added, felt a little bit like closing a book that she had left unopened. “I had thought: ‘Phantom Thread’ will go away again, people will forget me — but I can’t undo this movie,” she said. “It’s like undoing who I am.” More

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    ‘The Year of the Discovery’ Review: Remembering Tumult in Spain

    The film revisits Spain in 1992 from a less rosy vantage point than that year’s Olympics gave the world.Though it encompasses three hours and 20 minutes of concentrated sociopolitical discussion, “The Year of the Discovery,” an experimental film with documentary trappings, establishes its central idea in side-by-side opening title cards.They set up a contrast involving Spain in 1992, when the country hosted the Olympics in Barcelona and the Expo ’92 in Seville, projecting the image of a modern, post-Franco nation. But that same year, workers in Cartagena, a city in the Murcia region, protested a threat to industrial jobs. The demonstrations, the text says, led to an uprising against police and culminated in the throwing of bombs that burned the regional parliament.“The Year of the Discovery,” directed by Luis López Carrasco, recasts 1992 from the standpoint of Cartagena instead of Barcelona or Seville. But what the film is saying, and how, is complicated. It unfolds mainly in split screen, as rotating interviewees discuss labor conditions, European economic integration and the legacy of Francoism. López Carrasco shoots on camcorder-grade video, muddying the distinction between recent and vintage material.He shows a 1992 TV broadcast in one image, then continues its audio over two screens of what appear to be a cook and her family eating. The construction suggests they are hearing real-time news about the Maastricht Treaty, which formalized the European Union. But subsequent, jarring references to Facebook and an already-extant euro indicate that the movie was shot closer to the present. (López Carrasco filmed in a closed cafe in Cartagena and selected participants through a process he has called “casting.”)If the convoluted history and corresponding formal conceits are difficult to absorb, that is part of the point.The Year of the DiscoveryNot rated. In Spanish, with subtitles. Running time: 3 hours 20 minutes. In theaters. More

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    The Woman Who Captured ‘Jaws,’ Then Worked to Undo the Damage

    A documentary tracks the extraordinary life of Valerie Taylor, spearfishing champion turned passionate conservationist on behalf of endangered sharks.Steven Spielberg needed a real shark. Before the young director began filming “Jaws” with his famously malfunctioning animatronic beast in Martha’s Vineyard, he hired two underwater cinematographers to film great white sharks off the coast of South Australia.Skilled divers and well-known in their home country, the Australian couple Ron and Valerie Taylor set off to capture the footage that would be used in the climactic 1975 scene in which Richard Dreyfuss’s Hooper, seemingly safe in a shark cage, confronts the monster terrorizing beachgoers.But, as Valerie Taylor, the subject of a new documentary, said in a recent video interview from her home in Sydney, “You might be able to direct a dog or a human or a horse, but you can’t direct a shark.”It quickly became clear that the Taylors were battling two unwilling parties: the shark and the professional stuntman, Carl Rizzo, who didn’t know how to dive and panicked at being lowered in the cage. As he waffled on the boat deck, the shark approached, became tangled in the wires supporting the cage and ultimately snapped the empty container loose from the winch, sending it plummeting into the depths.Ron filmed the whole thing underwater, while Valerie grabbed a camera on the ship and shot overhead. Spielberg was so enamored with the footage of the unexpected turn of events, he had the script rewritten to accommodate it, altering Hooper’s fate from shark bait to survivor as the animal thrashed overhead.Valerie’s work on “Jaws” is just one chapter in her incredible life, which saw her shift from lethal spearfisher to filmmaker and pioneering conservationist. “She was like a Marvel superhero to me,” the Australian producer Bettina Dalton said. “She influenced everything about my career and my passion for the natural world.”Taylor worked as an underwater cinematographer. Her mother told her, “Try what you like. It can’t hurt you and you’ll learn.”Ron and Valerie TaylorThat reverence led Dalton to team up with the director Sally Aitken for the National Geographic documentary “Playing With Sharks,” which follows Taylor’s career and is now available on Disney+.Born in Australia and raised mostly in New Zealand, Valerie, now 85, grew up poor. She was hospitalized with polio at age 12 and forced to drop out of school while she relearned how to walk. She began working as a comic strip artist then dabbled in theater acting, but hated being tied to the same place every day.“I had a good mother. She said, just do what you like. Try what you like. It can’t hurt you and you’ll learn,” Valerie, her statement earrings swinging under her silver hair, told me emphatically. When she began diving and spearfishing professionally, however, her mother was “horrified.” Valerie added, “I was supposed to get married and have children.”She did eventually marry Ron, a fellow spearfishing champion who was also skilled with an underwater camera, and they began making films documenting marine life together. Valerie, with her glamorous “Bond girl” looks, became the focal point since they could fetch more money if she appeared onscreen. They were together until Ron died of leukemia in 2012.“Here’s this incredible front-of-house character, and here’s an amazing technical wizard,” Aitken said. “Together, they realized that was a winning combination.”Not only did Valerie have a magnetic on-camera presence, she had a rare ability to connect with animals, including menacing sharks, which were then little understood.“They all have different personalities. Some are shy, some are bullies, some are brave,” Valerie said. “When you get to know a school of sharks, you get to know them as individuals.”After she killed a shark while shooting a film in the 1960s, the Taylors had an epiphany: sharks needed to be studied and understood, rather than slain. They quit spearfishing entirely, and Aitken likened their journey from hunters to conservationists to that of John James Audubon.Taylor on a dive in 1982. Many of the underwater scenes she witnessed in her early days no longer exist, she said.Ron and Valerie Taylor“I have that sort of personality that I don’t get afraid. I get angry,” Valerie said. “Even when I’ve been bitten, I’ve just stayed still and waited for it to let go — because they’ve made a mistake.”Still, she conceded, “I don’t expect other people to behave like I do.”Her signature look, a pink wet suit and brightly colored hair ribbon, could be seen as a defiant embrace of her femininity in a male-dominated industry, but it was also a simple way for her to stand out in underwater footage. “Ron wanted color in a blue world,” Valerie said. “He said, ‘Cousteau has a red beanie, you can have a red ribbon.’ That was that.”When asked, she shrugged at the idea that she faced additional challenges as the only woman on boats full of men for most of her life, especially in the ’50s and ’60s, when women were still largely expected to stick to traditional roles.“I was as good as they were, so there you go. No problem,” she said. “And, although I didn’t realize it, I was probably as tough.”The “Playing With Sharks” filmmakers, who pored over decades of media coverage and archival footage, described Valerie as someone who faced an uphill battle on multiple levels but who was also seen as an intriguing novelty.“Of course, she had to fight to be taken seriously,” Aitken said. “She was working class. She was someone who really had very little education. I think the culture saw her as extraordinary. That in itself can be a liberating path, precisely because you are singular.”When “Jaws” became an instant, unexpected blockbuster in 1975, the Taylors realized that the movie was doing harm that they’d never considered: Recreational shark hunting gained popularity and audiences feared legions of bloodthirsty sharks were stalking humans just below the surface. In reality, there are hundreds of species of sharks, and only a few have been known to bite humans. Those that do usually mistake people for their natural prey, like sea lions.“For some reason, filmgoers believed it. There’s no shark like that alive in the world today,” Valerie said. “Ron had a saying: ‘You don’t go to New York and expect to see King Kong on the Empire State Building. Neither should you go into the water expecting to see Jaws.’”Valerie and Ron Taylor worked together until his death in 2012. Ron and Valerie TaylorIn an attempt to quell public fears, Universal flew the Taylors to the United States for a talk-show tour educating the public about sharks, and Valerie said, “I’ve been fighting for the poor old, much maligned sharks and the marine world, in general, ever since.”In 1984, she helped campaign to make the grey nurse shark the first protected shark species in the world. Her nature photography has been featured in National Geographic. The same area where she and Ron filmed their “Jaws” sequence is now a marine park named in their honor. And she still publishes essays passionately defending animals.Yet, shark populations have been decimated around the world, primarily because of overfishing, and Valerie said many of the underwater scenes she witnessed in her early days no longer exist.“I hate being old, but at least it means I was in the ocean when it was pristine,” she said, adding that today, “it’s like going to where there was a rainforest and seeing a field of corn.”Despite all that’s covered in “Playing With Sharks,” Valerie said, “it’s not my whole life story, by any means.” There was the time she was left at sea and saved herself by anchoring her hair ribbons to a piece of coral until another boat happened upon her. Or the day she taught Mick Jagger how to scuba dive on a whim. (He was a quick study, despite the weight belt sliding right down his narrow hips.) She also survived breast cancer.Though she still dives, her arthritis makes being in the colder Australian waters difficult, and she’s eager to return to Fiji, where swimming feels like “taking a bath.”“I can’t jump anymore, not that I particularly want to jump,” she said. “But if I go into the ocean, I can fly.” More