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    ‘Ally McBeal’ Star Calista Flockhart Returns to TV

    On a chilly January weekend in Los Angeles, I turned into a truffle pig. I foraged relentlessly all over town, looking for truffle fries.By Monday, when it was time to go to my interview, the only thing in my suitcase I could squeeze into was a Spanx dress.“My sister gave me this for Christmas,” I explained sheepishly to the famously lissome Calista Flockhart as I slid into a booth on the terrace of the Georgian Hotel. “I guess you’ve never owned any Spanx.”“I love Spanx!” she said. “In fact, I just ordered — no kidding — a pair of Spanx jeans. They make really cute jeans. They’re very wide.”Seeing my skeptical look, she reminded me: “It’s not only about sucking it all in. It’s about smoothing it all the way. No panty lines.”And then, as we sat in this romantic spot, looking out at the ocean, she said the thing that made me fall in love: “Would you like to nibble on something? How about some French fries?”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber?  More

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    ‘The Bear’ Wins Best Comedy at the Golden Globes

    Globe voters said “Yes, chef,” to “The Bear,” which beat out “Ted Lasso” and “Abbott Elementary” to win best comedy.One quibble: Is “The Bear” even a comedy? Any episode of the restaurant-set FX series has more agita and fewer jokes than most dramas. Some scenes and some entire episodes, like the most recent season’s standout, “Fishes,” can only be watched through fingers. But “The Bear,” created by Christopher Storer, also has a softish heart — among other organ meats — and a half-hour running time, enough to land it in this category.The first season, which saw Jeremy Allen White’s troubled chef, Carmy, inherit the restaurant from his dead brother, was a surprise hit despite its grubby milieu and absence of bankable stars. (Apologies, Oliver Platt.) It made an immediate internet pinup of White and a darling of his co-star, Ayo Edebiri, who plays a driven upstart chef. The second season saw the eatery morph from an Italian beef joint to a Michelin-courting sensation. It focused more on the camaraderie among the staff even as it broke a few characters away for special episodes, and it was praised for its realistic depictions of work, grief, Chicago, high-end food and friendship.A nominee last year for best comedy, “The Bear” yielded a surprise best lead actor win for White as the aggrieved Carmy. Repeating his win in the same category this year was less of a surprise.“I can’t believe I’m in this room with all these people I’ve loved so much, admired so much for so long. It’s unreal. I love this show,” he said.White’s co-star, Edebiri, won her first Golden Globe for best actress in a TV comedy.“Everybody at ‘The Bear,’ that’s my family,” Edebiri said in her breathless acceptance speech. “I love you guys so much. It’s an honor to work with you and grow alongside you.”“All of my agents, managers, assistants, the people who answer my emails, y’all are real ones,” she added. “Thank you for answering my crazy, crazy emails.”Lionel Bryce, who plays Marcus, spoke on behalf of the show’s cast and crew accepting the award. “Most importantly, thank you to the entire restaurant community,” he said. “We played these characters for a couple of hours a day for a couple of months out of the year, but this is your reality, the highs and the lows. So thank you for embracing us.” More

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    Emma Corrin Tries to Solve ‘A Murder at the End of the World’

    The actor has worked steadily since breaking out as a young Princess Diana in “The Crown.” Corrin’s latest role is as an amateur sleuth in “A Murder at the End of the World.”“I have no idea what I like,” Emma Corrin said.This was on a recent Friday afternoon at the Mysterious Bookshop, a Manhattan emporium dedicated to thrillers, detective stories, spy stories and noir classics. Corrin, who uses they/them pronouns, had flown in from London the day before and seemed overwhelmed by the selection, spinning a display of pulp paperbacks, picking up and putting down a new translation of a Pier Paolo Pasolini novel. The real mystery? Which book to choose.Corrin appealed to the store’s manager, Tom Wickersham.“Go for it,” Corrin said. “What’s the best thriller?”Corrin, 27, had taken this last-minute trip, which coincided with the end of the actors’ strike, to promote “A Murder at the End of the World,” the moody, brooding FX limited series that began on Nov. 14. They play Darby Hart, an amateur detective who becomes a true-crime author after solving a case involving unidentified women in the Midwest. “A Murder” had filmed two scenes at the shop, which (appropriately) bookend the series.“We spent all day and all night here,” they said. Between setups, Corrin would read aloud from selected books, including a collection of erotica. “It was very funny.”On the series, Darby sports pink hair, layered hoodies and a watchful, wounded expression. Another character, the guerrilla artist Bill Farrah (Harris Dickinson), describes Darby as “really tough and really fragile at the same time.” In person, Corrin, who wore a brown suede jacket and black pants, their brown hair sleekly buzzed, was sprightlier, less wary, sliding from shelf to shelf in black flats.In “A Murder at the End of the World,” Corrin’s character is an amateur detective who ends up investigating a murder at an exclusive gathering.Chris Saunders/FXCorrin had spent the strike in London, with Spencer, their cockapoo named for Princess Diana, whom Corrin played in the fourth season of “The Crown.” “I honestly hadn’t really stopped working for the last three or four years, so it was a really nice chance to be with family and friends and dog,” they said.Had Corrin taken up any hobbies during the strike? No. “I found that so intimidating during Covid,” they said, laughing. “I’m not making bread. I refuse.”After a few months, relaxation had palled and Corrin seemed delighted to be back to work, even if work meant a whirlwind promotional tour. “I like talking about the work,” they said. “I like celebrating it.”Corrin paused at a row of true-crime books, as though expecting to see Darby’s book, “Silver Doe,” among them. Pulling out Helen Garner’s “This House of Grief,” Corrin mentioned a pair of genre favorites: Janet Malcolm’s “The Journalist and the Murderer” and Maggie Nelson’s “The Red Parts.”“It’s so good,” Corrin said of the latter book. “I found that such an interesting study of humanness in this arena.”The series shot scenes at the Mysterious Bookshop in Manhattan.Jeenah Moon for The New York TimesDarby is also a study in humanness. A different sort of detective, she is young, female and despite her perpetual scowl, she is, as her name suggests, all heart. “She takes it upon herself to become the voice of the voiceless,” Corrin said. “That rests very, very deep inside her, that need to help those people.”One of the show’s prescient themes is the increasing dominance and sophistication of artificial intelligence. Darby remains skeptical of technology, even as she uses chat boards and online searches in pursuit of her investigation. Corrin shares that skepticism.“I will always prioritize human connection over artificial connection,” they said. “That’s where it begins and ends for me.”In some respects, Corrin felt quite far apart from Darby. “She’s far more cynical than I am,” Corrin said. “I quite naïvely look for the best in people, probably to a fault, and I can be quite gullible.” But Corrin identified with Darby’s empathy and drive. “She likes rising to a challenge, and she likes a problem,” Corrin said. “I share that as well. I’m pretty fearless.”The actor’s past roles, which have also included starring turns in “My Policeman” and “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” have been largely period and largely romantic, the better to exploit Corrin’s English rose looks. Darby is the least femme screen role Corrin has played (onstage, the actor starred in an adaptation of Virginia Woolf’s gender-fluid “Orlando”). And though “A Murder” is in part a love story, gender and sexuality don’t particularly define Darby.“The modern aspect was a real tick for me,” Corrin said. “Playing someone more androgynous was a real tick for me.”Corrin’s breakout role came as a young Princess Diana in “The Crown.”Des Willie/NetflixBecause Corrin has spent the whole of their young adulthood onscreen, the actor’s identity and relationships have been the source of much unwanted attention. Corrin described this corollary of fame as “that poisoned chalice thing,” as well as “grim” and “inescapable.” Maybe this has made them even more motivated to disappear into fictional people or to make choices that the public might not anticipate. It was recently announced that Corrin will next play a young scammer in the mercenary comedy “Peaches,” set in Hong Kong.“I surprised myself by being so into it,” they said.So Corrin does have some idea of what they like, just not when it comes to mysteries and thrillers. Stumped, Corrin appealed again to Wickersham.“Do you think that John Grisham is the absolute master?”“I liked those books when I was a kid,” he said diplomatically.Corrin considered one of Maurice Leblanc’s Lupin novels, a Len Deighton, a Charles Willeford, a mystery cowritten by the prime minister of Iceland. “A Murder” had shot for a month in Iceland, which lent some verisimilitude to the chillier scenes. (Maybe too much verisimilitude. Brit Marling, one of the creators, experienced hypothermia on the shoot’s first day.)“The elements we were shooting in were just so intense,” Corrin said. Even when the production moved inside, to sound stages in New Jersey, “you still could feel that in your body,” Corrin said. “Being that freezing.”Still, Corrin couldn’t choose a book. “I’m experiencing real indecision,” they said. “Crippling indecision. I’m so bad at making decisions.”Finally, with their publicist murmuring about a subsequent appointment, Corrin was nudged toward Dorothy B. Hughes’s “In a Lonely Place,” a classic of California noir. The blurb on the back described it as a page turner, and Corrin nodded in approval.“That’s very exciting,” they said, happy with the choice. “I’ll need to do a lot of flying soon. So I need a good book.” More

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    ‘A Murder at the End of the World’ Review: P.I. Meets A.I.

    The story of death at a mogul’s retreat (no, not “Glass Onion”) has a few interesting ideas about tech within a familiar mystery scenario.An eccentric tech billionaire invites a slew of notables to a private retreat, where a detective must solve a mysterious death. If the premise of “A Murder at the End of the World” jumps out at you, it may be because you not so long ago encountered it as the premise of Rian Johnson’s “Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery.”Or it may jump out at you because “Murder” is the latest creation from Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij of Netflix’s “The OA.” That series was a poetic and baffling testament to the force of human connection, involving interpretive dance and a telepathic octopus. The murder mystery, in comparison, is among the most literal, plot-reliant of genres. Could Marling and Batmanglij really have made something that … ordinary?FX’s “Murder,” which begins Tuesday on Hulu, is neither as weird as you might hope or as conventional as you might fear. (Or vice versa.) It takes an Agatha Christie scenario and spins it into a chilly, stylized cyber-noir with ideas about artificial intelligence and some familiar Marling/Batmanglij themes of global consciousness. Think of it as “Glass OAnion.”The detective here is a relative newcomer. Darby Hart (Emma Corrin), an intense young computer hacker, tracked down a serial killer with Bill Farrah (Harris Dickinson), a moody amateur investigator she met online and fell in love with. Her true-crime memoir earns her some literary notice, as well as an invitation from Andy Ronson (Clive Owen), a tech magnate who is convening a meeting of “original thinkers” — artists, entrepreneurs, an astronaut — at a sleek, remote hotel that he had built in Iceland.The purpose of this Arctic TED Talk is, ostensibly, to cogitate on the existential threat of climate change to humanity. Andy, however, has another intelligence at his disposal — an advanced A.I. called “Ray” that manifests in the holographic form of a neatly goateed man in black (Edoardo Ballerini). Andy believes in the transformative power of this technology and others, but transformative to and for whom?Darby questions whether and why she fits in with the luminaries at the gathering. But she accepts the invitation for the chance to meet a tech idol: Not Andy, but his wife, Lee Andersen (Marling), a renowned coder who dropped out of public life after a Gamergate-style harassment campaign and lives in seclusion with Andy and their young son (Kellan Tetlow).But another guest grabs Darby’s attention: Bill, now a famous artist, whom she has not seen since a falling-out at the end of their investigation. Before they have time to catch up — don’t say the title didn’t warn you — somebody turns up dead, and Darby’s wiring for suspicion kicks in.Misogyny and technology are the twin themes of “A Murder.” Darby was drawn into the serial-killer case by her talent for hacking and her empathy for forgotten female victims. A common theme of her investigations is how little credibility she is granted as a young woman. When she pulls her hoodie over her head, yes, it is a universal visual symbol for “hacker,” but she also might as well be drawing an invisibility cloak.Then there’s A.I., which pervades the story like it does Andy’s icy retreat. In some cases technological reality has moved faster than the TV production process. A scene in which Ray produces a Harry Potter story in the voice of Ernest Hemingway astonishes the guests, for instance, but you’ve likely seen a dozen similar examples over the past year.Still, “A Murder” has a multifaceted view of A.I., not just as a threat but as a possible helpmeet. On the one hand, Andy is another arrogant billionaire who looks to software to compensate for the deficiencies that annoy him in humans. But the surveillance features built into the retreat’s setting, however creepy, are also a trove of clues. As Darby digs into the mysterious death, she finds herself using Ray as a source and even an aide — part Sherlock Holmes’s Watson, part IBM’s.The present-day whodunit isn’t especially inventive, but Corrin carries the story with a nervy, febrile performance that invests Darby with the life that the dialogue sometimes fails to provide. And the series has atmosphere to spare, making the most of the stark volcanic beauty of its location in Iceland. (It also shot in Utah and New Jersey.)The flashbacks to Darby and Bill’s serial-killer chase, which take up much of the seven episodes, are emotional and involving; Dickinson gives Bill an open-wound vulnerability. But rather than adding resonance to the whole, these scenes end up outshining the long, talky story they’re meant to flesh out.“A Murder,” in its main arc, feels like a bit of an artificial life form itself. The blandly drawn retreat guests get no more than a stroke or two of characterization and are weighted with self-serious dialogue. Andy mostly plays to bullying tech-mogul type. And while Marling always uses her enigmatic air as a performer to good advantage, Lee is more of a riddle — how did a coding revolutionary become a tech tradwife? — than a rounded character.Marling and Batmanglij’s work has often been more about the delivery of ideas and intangibles than plotting or naturalism, however. At its best, “A Murder” has grandeur, chilly beauty and intellectual adventurousness (and it pulls off a satisfying final twist). It might have been more effective if, as with so many limited series lately, it were tighter and shorter. In this sense, technology is the culprit: Streaming-TV bloat has its fingerprints all over this case. More

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    ‘The OA’ Creators Are Back With a Murder Mystery

    “A Murder at the End of the World” resembles other luxe murder shows. But the mark of the creators, Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij, is clear in its idiosyncratic tone and themes.The filmmakers Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij have what they call a “garden.” It’s not an actual garden, however. It is what Batmanglij described in a recent interview as a “garden of ideas that exists between us.”“Some of those seedlings we’ve been cultivating for years, since our early days of sitting on skateboards in one of our bedrooms in Silver Lake and talking to each other,” he said last month, sharing a booth with Marling in the lobby of the Bowery Hotel. “We were ready to cut one of those blooms and plant it.”The latest product of that garden is their new series, “A Murder at the End of the World,” premiering with two installments Nov. 14 on FX on Hulu. The seven-episode show has a conventional, almost trendy hook: It is a murder mystery set at a remote Icelandic luxury retreat for some of the world’s most influential people, details reminiscent of buzzy recent films and shows like “Glass Onion” and “The White Lotus.” But with its time-jumping structure, uniquely eerie tone and warnings about artificial intelligence and climate change, it is also unmistakably the work of the idiosyncratic creators behind “The OA,” “Sound of My Voice” and “The East.”However even they were surprised by the protagonist they ended up with, a Gen-Z amateur detective named Darby Hart, played by Emma Corrin (“The Crown”). A true-crime author who grew up trying to crack cold cases on internet forums, Darby and her sleuth skills are tested when a guest ends up dead at a gathering hosted by a tech billionaire (Clive Owen) and his former coder wife (Marling), where a remarkably advanced A.I. named Ray (Edoardo Ballerini) serves as an assistant to the guests.“All of a sudden this outlier poppy in the corner, Darby, showed up, and said, ‘I represent the times,’” Batmanglij said.In “A Murder at the End of the World,” Emma Corrin plays a young true-crime author trying to solve a murder. (With Harris Dickinson.)Chris Saunders/FXMarling, 41, and Batmanglij, 42, talk in metaphors and big ideas. This makes sense if you’ve seen their body of work, which includes surreal sagas about grand topics, among them the afterlife and the end of the world, often featuring characters who consider themselves soothsayers.They have been planting their seeds for decades. They met as students at Georgetown in 2001 and started collaborating a couple of years later when Batmanglij invited Marling, then a summer analyst at Goldman Sachs, to participate in a 48-hour film festival, making a short film over the course of one weekend.The experience convinced Marling, the class valedictorian who was a double major in economics and art (with a focus on photography), to leave her business ambitions behind. “We had found this profound space together,” she said. “We basically have been telling stories in one way or another much in that fashion ever since.”Their first co-written feature, “Sound of My Voice,” was directed by Batmanglij and featured Marling, her long blond hair giving her an ethereal look, as a mysterious cult leader who claims to be from the future. It premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in 2011 alongside “Another Earth,” which Marling also starred in and co-wrote with another Georgetown friend of theirs, Mike Cahill. Both films sold and Marling was the de facto star of that year’s festival. But after their Sundance success and despite bigger offers from Hollywood, she and her cohorts opted to recommit to their indie mission.“We had this instinct of not doing those things, like not playing the girlfriend of the movie star in this sort of empty action film,” Marling said. “And to instead be like, ‘No, let’s keep telling our stories. Let’s keep getting better at telling them.’”Marling and Batmanglij followed up “Sound of My Voice” with “The East,” starring Marling and Alexander Skarsgard, about a woman who goes undercover with an anarchist group committing acts of eco-terrorism.“The OA” only lasted two seasons on Netflix but it built a devoted following.JoJo Whilden/NetflixTheir biggest platform yet came in 2016 when their series “The OA” debuted on Netflix. Marling played a formerly blind woman who arrives home, after a mysterious disappearance, having regained her sight and calling herself “original angel.” She tells the story of her life — which involves Russian aristocracy and a mad scientist experimenting on people with near death experiences — to a group of high schoolers and a teacher, showing them “movements” that can supposedly help them jump dimensions. In the even more ambitious second season, which debuted in 2019, there were plot lines about tree internet and a mind-reading octopus.Critics found the series fascinating and flawed, but it had a passionate following. When Netflix canceled the show after the second season, fans started a hashtag campaign and one even staged a hunger strike outside Netflix headquarters in Los Angeles.“It had scope and ambition and was, by design, not the lowest-budget project around,” said Cindy Holland, who was the streamer’s vice president of original content at the time. “It became clear that it was going to be unsustainable as an ongoing project in that form at Netflix at the time, and it was a fairly sad experience for all of us, including the audience.”Marling said she sees the unexpected end of the series now as almost prophetic. “‘The OA’’s cancellation was a harbinger for a transformation for something that was afoot in the industry,” she said.“The space had been disrupted, a bunch of creativity and market energy had rushed into that space,” she continued. “But now it was going to calcify or solidify into something that in many ways was a broken business model and much worse than what had been before.”“We make the world so real between ourselves at first, that it’s literally like a third place that exists,” Marling said of how she and Batmanglij develop their ideas.Ryan Pfluger for The New York TimesShe and Batmanglij are still convinced they will finish the story of “The OA” at some point, in some form, but they decided to move on to what would become “A Murder at the End of the World.” The pair wrote the episodes — some together, some separately, some with other writers — and took turns directing. The show’s themes seemed to get only more relevant as they were making it.“It was really eerie, actually, to see with this one the number of things that when we had set out to write it four years ago it was science fiction,” Marling said. “When we talked about any of this stuff with people, we had to explain what is a deep fake, what is an A.I. assistant, what’s a large language model — how does that work? And then by the time we were editing it, to see everything come to pass.”In an interview, John Landgraf, the chairman of FX networks, called the show a “Russian nesting doll of an idea” — a comparison Netflix also used regarding “The OA.”“There was a very rigorous depiction of technology and the physical world,” he said, explaining that the concept appealed to him because it promised a “very grounded, well-researched depiction that nevertheless had a very big set of abstract and imagistic and emotional ideas attached to it.”While fear of the apocalypse hangs over much of the Marling and Batmanglij canon, including “A Murder at the End of the World,” their work rarely feels dystopian.There is also a twinkly-eyed belief in the good of humanity lurking underneath the techno-terrors, and the need to pay attention to feeling over just data.“A Murder at the End of the World” takes place largely at a tech mogul’s remote Iceland gathering for influential people.Chris Saunders/FX“They want to be putting positive ideas out into the world,” said Alex DiGerlando, the series’s production designer and longtime collaborator. He said this optimism manifests in various ways on set — any time they are met with a potentially disheartening scenario, he said, they find a way to see the bright side.Among the roadblocks they hit while filming “A Murder at the End of the World” were supply shortages, Covid outbreaks and disruptive storms. Marling got hypothermia during their monthlong shoot in Iceland. (The hotel’s interiors were built on a soundstage in New Jersey.)“I was kind of blown away, to be honest, by how indefatigable they were,” Landgraf said. “They just literally did not, would not quit on anything until it was the very, very best they could possibly make it.”Marling said that the intensity of her and Batmanglij’s commitment takes root even before they share their ideas with anyone else.“We make the world so real between ourselves at first, that it’s literally like a third place that exists,” she said. “It has a floor and a door, and we can open the door and invite people in.”Floors, doors, gardens — Marling and Batmanglij might mix metaphors, but what’s clear is that they see their stories as tangible objects that they nurture together with a willingness to embrace the unexpected.“We don’t have a favorite plant or tree or seed or sapling in the garden,” Batmanglij said. “We treat them all with so much love because sometimes it’s the one that you don’t water at all that starts blooming.” More

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    What Is ‘Welcome to Wrexham’ Doing to Soccer?

    Hollywood has turned a perfectly good fourth-tier Welsh team into a TV show instead. That can’t be great.Last month, the Welsh soccer club Wrexham A.F.C. embarked on a buoyant tour of America that it called the Wrexham U.S.A. Invasion Summer ’23. The team packed stadiums from North Carolina to Southern California. It played against the megaclubs Chelsea and Manchester United. Its ticketholders enjoyed fan zones equipped with bustling merch stands and cardboard cutouts of Wrexham personalities — even a pop-up version of the Turf Hotel, a pub in the actual Wrexham, a city of 135,000 in the north of Wales. One popular activity was taking selfies with Wayne Jones, the Turf Hotel’s publican, a touring member of the summer jolly.Wrexham is a place with a familiar Rust Belt trajectory: mill and mine closures, job losses, economic depression. Before the season that began this month, its team played in the National League, the fifth tier of English soccer — a universe away from Chelsea and the top-flight Premier League. (The National League still includes a few teams that aren’t fully professional.) Typical attendance at Wrexham’s Racecourse Ground used to be less than 5,000 a game. In Chapel Hill, the team played in front of more than 50,000.The reason for the change is, of course, the FX docuseries “Welcome to Wrexham.” In 2021, the actors Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney bought the club and set about changing its fortunes, on camera. During the pandemic, the British actor Humphrey Ker had given McElhenney a viewing recommendation: “Sunderland ’Til I Die,” a docuseries about the decline of another soccer club in a postindustrial town. McElhenney loved it and, as Ker told The Athletic, formulated a plan to tell the same story in reverse: buy a struggling football team and turn it into a competitor. He wanted to reverse-engineer a feel-good sports documentary. He would also end up satisfying America’s love of underdog stories set in quaintly hard-up corners of Britain (like “The Full Monty,” recently revived as an FX series) and creating an odd real-life analog for the hugely popular “Ted Lasso.”The reverse-engineering project has, clearly, been a success. The show, with its portrait of the tight-knit community surrounding the club, attracted a devoted-enough audience that sales of the club’s jersey spiked wildly. (The team dropped its previous front-of-shirt sponsor, a Welsh trailer company, in favor of TikTok.) Wrexham matches — which, even in Britain, would have been considered obscure — can now play on ESPN. “It’s the real underdog thing,” one fan at the U.S.A. Invasion told The Evening Standard.It was an underdog thing. Since taking over, McElhenney and Reynolds have stocked Wrexham’s roster with players who are, frankly, too good to be playing in the National League. Paul Mullin, for instance, is a striker whose copious goal scoring helped get Cambridge United promoted a league; he instead jumped two tiers down to join Wrexham. (He was injured during the U.S.A. Invasion and stayed in the country to recuperate — in McElhenney’s Los Angeles home.) Last season, the four highest-paid players in the National League all played for Wrexham. At the season’s end, the club was promoted to League Two, the fourth tier of English soccer, for the first time since 2008. In the days that followed, Wayne Jones had to shut down the Turf Hotel: Despite his best efforts to prepare, he ran out of alcohol. When the show’s second season begins in September, streaming on Disney+, it’s a safe bet that every episode will be seen by far more people than will fill the Racehorse Ground for a whole season’s worth of Wrexham matches.In 2021, the sale of a different soccer club made international news. Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund took a controlling interest in Newcastle United, a competitor in the Premier League. Unlike Wrexham’s story — which has been treated as a kind of homespun pushback to a world in which private-equity billions slosh around and sports teams are used as state propaganda — the Saudi purchase was castigated, internationally, as a new nadir in professional sports’ capitulation to the richest entity in the room. (The head of Amnesty International U.K. bashed the league for “allowing those implicated in serious human rights violations to walk into English football simply because they have deep pockets.”) Reynolds and McElhenney do not represent an autocratic petrostate and are implicated in no human rights violations, but the two takeovers do have one thing in common: Both the actors and the Saudi sovereign-wealth fund are operating in spaces where their wealth distorts everything around them.Longtime Wrexham supporters are certainly delighted by the team’s successes, but they must also recognize that the club has become something new and different: both an athletic behemoth and a pop-culture one. It’s not just that the roster is full of what are effectively ringers, being paid situationally outlandish amounts from what I can’t help imagining are the profits of the “Deadpool” franchise. Reynolds and McElhenney have created an ouroboros in which TV funnels fans and money to the team, leading to successes that in turn create more TV. It’s a clever gambit for endless expansion, but also one that, as the club’s U.S. tour underlined, risks turning Wrexham into more of a media project than a soccer team.It also feels directly opposed to the communitarian values that, ostensibly, made Reynolds and McElhenney interested in the team in the first place. For a decade before their arrival, Wrexham had been a community club owned by a coalition of fans called the Wrexham Supporters Trust. One of the club’s former board members, Spencer Harris, posted online this spring to take issue with the title of a BBC program about the club — “Wrexham: Hollywood or Bust” — and its suggestion that without the actors, Wrexham was doomed. “4,000 supporters trust members took over an insolvent business,” he wrote, “turned it around and handed over with cash in the bank after a global pandemic.” The trust didn’t even profit off the sale; in the interest of helping the club’s prospects, members essentially gave the team to Reynolds and McElhenney in exchange for a guarantee that they would add £2 million to the budget.That fan base now shares its connection to the team with all those who will binge-watch “Welcome to Wrexham” and feel their own sense of ownership — and with the actors, who sometimes overtake the club’s identity entirely. (One recent headline assessed the team’s prospects like this: “Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney are on track for the League Two points record!”) As a new television season begins, it will surely become untenable for “Welcome to Wrexham” to ignore its own impact on the club it’s documenting.For what it’s worth, English football is full of less complicated tales of resiliency. Luton Town, for instance, is a small club from just outside London. The team’s nickname is the Hatters. Their home ground, Kenilworth Road, has its modest entrance stitched through a row of terraced houses. While not self-owned, its ownership consortium is made up of local fans who willingly ceded a small share and a set of veto rights to the Luton Town Supporters Trust. At its lowest ebb, the club played in the fifth tier. It doesn’t spend a lot of money, because it doesn’t have a lot of money. But the team has scouted well and hired good coaches, and this coming season, having won its way up the ranks, it will compete in the Premier League. Someone should make a documentary about that. Or, honestly, maybe they shouldn’t.Opening illustration: Source photographs by Sean M. Haffey/Getty Images; Christopher Furlong/Getty Images; Drew Hallowell/Getty Images; Jan Kruger/Getty Images. More

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    Timothy Olyphant Is Back for a New Chapter of ‘Justified’

    “I like to think there’s been some growth.”This was the actor Timothy Olyphant in New York last month, musing on the trajectory of his career from a TriBeCa sidewalk. He was referring specifically to the task of resurrecting past roles, which he first did a few years ago in the 2019 movie revival of “Deadwood.”Now comes “Justified: City Primeval,” an eight-episode limited series premiering on July 18, on FX. It features Olyphant returning to what is arguably his signature character, Raylan Givens, the Stetson-sporting deputy U.S. Marshal who anchored the Kentucky crime drama “Justified” for six seasons.The new show follows Raylan to Detroit for a fish-out-of-water adventure with a murderous baddie (Boyd Holbrook) and a sharp-elbowed but alluring lawyer, played by Aunjanue Ellis. The creators describe it as the existential evolution of a character, invented by the crime fiction grandmaster Elmore Leonard, who is starting to realize that he can’t chase killers forever and that he is running out of chances to connect with his teenage daughter.“It’s a mature, grown-up version of the show that we did,” said Michael Dinner, who created the limited series with Dave Andron. Both are former writers and executive producers on “Justified,” which ended its run on FX in 2015.The creators and Olyphant, who is also an executive producer on “City Primeval,” hope to bring back Raylan for at least one more series after this one. But first, they are going to find out if people are still interested in the character or “Justified” without the original show’s evocative backwoods setting and colorful criminals, played by the likes of Walton Goggins and Margo Martindale.“Justified: City Primeval” moves the action from Kentucky to Detroit, where Olyphant’s character, Raylan, joins a sharp-elbowed lawyer played by Aunjanue Ellis.Chuck Hodes/FXOlyphant (left, with Claire Danes and Dennis Quaid) plays a man who marries into the family of a celebrity chef in the Max series “Full Circle,” directed by Steven Soderbergh.Sarah Shatz/Max“With all due respect to our original cast, who I loved, adored and miss, it was really a fun experience being with all these new cast members but still feeling like we were doing our show,” Olyphant said. “This feels right in the sweet spot, but I don’t know, it could be a total failure.”If he didn’t seem particularly bothered by the possibility of tainting the legacy of his most famous creation, this is partly an effect of his affect. In conversation Olyphant is easygoing and quick-witted, qualities he brings to his work that also belie another of his defining traits: a simmering intensity.That combination proved perfect for the darkly comic, morally murky world of “Justified.” Olyphant’s performance in the series shifted his previously hit-and-miss career into a higher gear, which in turn has made his future prospects less dependent on the success of the “Justified” revival.As it happened, Olyphant was in New York for a screening of a different twisty crime thriller: “Full Circle,” in which he plays a Manhattanite with secrets who has married into the wealthy family of a celebrity chef, played by Dennis Quaid. (Other stars include Claire Danes, Jharrel Jerome and CCH Pounder.) Premiering Thursday on Max, the gripping six-episode serial revolves around a botched kidnapping with international repercussions.“Full Circle” was directed by Steven Soderbergh, the latest on a list of talented people with whom Olyphant long wanted to work and now has. Others include Quentin Tarantino, who cast Olyphant as the 1960s TV cowboy James Stacy in “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” (2019), and David O. Russell, who hired him to play a disfigured thug in “Amsterdam” (2022). Kenneth Lonergan made him the center of his acclaimed play “Hold On to Me Darling” (2016).“You can throw Larry David on the list,” Olyphant said, referring to his appearance as a smarmy groom in “Curb Your Enthusiasm” in 2020. “I don’t know how long I’ll keep doing this, but I’ll show up every day for that guy.”There was also a brief run as a “Star Wars” lawman in “The Mandalorian” and “The Book of Boba Fett,” and a longer one as a Mormon U.S. Marshal in “Fargo.” He played a zombie’s husband in the horror comedy “Santa Clarita Diet” and himself in two different sitcoms: “The Good Place” and “The Grinder.” Earlier this year he had a memorable turn as a grizzled tour manager with terrible hair in “Daisy Jones & the Six.”Soderbergh, who said he had wanted for years to cast Olyphant, called him “the best example of an experienced professional, in that he can give you anything that you want.”“That is the best thing I can say about somebody,” he added.The afternoon after the “Full Circle” screening, Olyphant reclined in a metal chair outside a TriBeCa cafe and marveled at the company he is keeping these days.“I had a blast working with the writers,” Olyphant said of the “Justified” revival. “They picked up where we left off except for this time, there wasn’t anyone throwing things.”Philip Cheung for The New York Times“Being with Steven Soderbergh last night watching something that he’s made that I’m a part of, it just means the world,” he said. “I don’t know why it took me so long to get there, but it’s really nice to be there now.”Now 55, Olyphant retains an athlete’s physique — he had just come from swimming at Asphalt Green in Battery Park — but his hair has gone mostly gray. As he has revived old roles, he has entered a new phase of his life: His three children with Alexis Knief, his wife of over 30 years, are now grown, and one has followed her father not just into show business but also into the world of “Justified.” Vivian Olyphant plays Raylan’s daughter, Willa, in the revival. “Nepotism, you can’t beat it,” he cracked.Olyphant wasn’t sure he wanted to reprise his “Deadwood” role as Sheriff Seth Bullock. (Bullock got a promotion for the movie, adding yet another marshal to Olyphant’s résumé.) Once on set, however, he realized how much the show meant to him. It also gave him a final opportunity to work with David Milch, one of television’s greatest writers, whom Olyphant deeply admires. (Milch has since entered an assisted-living facility for Alzheimer’s care.)“I don’t know what I was so afraid of,” he said. “It was quite moving for everybody involved.”But Olyphant always figured he would play Raylan again. “It seemed like the kind of character that could age well,” he said.The new series updates Leonard’s 1980 novel “City Primeval: High Noon in Detroit,” one of his most beloved books. As Raylan joins the Detroit police in a case that encompasses a string of murders, a psychopathic aspiring singer, Albanian gangsters, corrupt cops and a crooked judge, he is frequently the odd man out in his own show.“I think they wanted that collision, which is why they sent him to one of the Blackest cities in the country,” said Ellis, who plays a defense attorney at the heart of the story. Other stars include Victor Williams, Vondie Curtis-Hall and Marin Ireland.During the original run of “Justified,” Olyphant was known as an occasionally demanding Leonard purist, insisting that the show stay true to the author’s dry wit and sneaky emotional complexity. That hasn’t changed — Ellis said Olyphant carried around a tattered copy of “City Primeval” on set “like it was the Bible” — though Olyphant suggested that the terms of engagement had evolved.“I had a blast working with the writers,” he said. “They picked up where we left off except for this time, there wasn’t anyone throwing things. They were all used to my [expletive].” (Dinner, who also directed multiple episodes, said that “he was a great collaborator.”)“The game has gotten simpler,” Olyphant said of his acting career. “I realize it’s all kind of a joke, just getting away with it.”Philip Cheung for The New York TimesAll productions have highs and lows, but this show’s were more extreme than most. In the plus column, Olyphant called working with his daughter, who studies acting at the New School in New York, “one of the greatest experiences of my adult life.”“So special and challenging, walking that line between trying to get a scene and trying to be a parent,” he said. (“He definitely did give a lot of notes,” Vivian, 20, said. “But in between takes, we would have a lot of fun.”)Less great: the night when the show, shot mostly in Chicago, was filming in a park and the cast and crew found themselves in the middle of an actual shootout. They all dove for cover as two cars tore down the street toward and past them, trading sprays of automatic gunfire.“You could hear the bullets kicking off the back bumper of the front car: tink, tink, tink,” Olyphant recalled. No one in the production was injured, but everyone was left shaken.“My heart goes out to the people that live in those neighborhoods because that is just not any way to live,” he said.So does Raylan age well? Is there growth? Viewers will have to draw their own conclusions.“The road in front of him is a lot shorter than the road behind,” Dinner said. “We get him into a place by the end of the story where he makes some decisions about his life.”Olyphant’s road is getting shorter, too, but the trade-off is that “the game has gotten simpler,” he said. “I realize it’s all kind of a joke, just getting away with it.” His co-stars say that whatever his penchant for downplaying the job, his enthusiasm for it is apparent.“He’s obviously very experienced now,” Danes said. “But there’s still that sense of giddiness and searching, which is wonderful.”Olyphant in turn takes inspiration from those with even more experience, from their example that growth can be its own reward. Co-stars like Quaid, he said, “seem to be having even more fun than I’m having.”“So if they’ll have me and keep inviting me to the dance,” he said, “I think I’ll keep showing up.” More

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    How Will ‘Welcome to Wrexham’ Write Notts County’s Story?

    Notts County is having one of the most remarkable seasons in its long history. It might even win the league. But you don’t get to star in someone else’s drama.NOTTINGHAM, England — The irony of it all, really, is that Notts County would make a terrific subject for a documentary.The elevator pitch is simple. After more than a decade of financial strife and rolling existential crises — featuring both a convicted fraudster and fictional Gulf investment — the oldest professional soccer club in the world puts together a record-shattering campaign, one that promises to restore the team to something close to its former glory.The casting is rich and compelling. There is a fallen Premier League prodigy searching for a home, a virtuoso Portuguese playmaker who has never seen an opponent he cannot nutmeg, and a 26-year-old striker experiencing such an absurd hot streak that he was, at one point, being compared to Erling Haaland. Tasked with shaping them into a team is a manager whose adventurous, accomplished approach is still just a little unorthodox in the mud-spattered lower reaches of English professional soccer. But the results are spectacular.In a division that is competitive to the point of arbitrary, the team loses only twice all season. It has scored more than 100 goals, and it’s on course to break the league’s points record with four games left. It might yet win the title. Plenty of shows have been commissioned on less.That is the story of Notts County’s season, but that does not mean it is the story that will be told. Millions of viewers will, in all likelihood, come to think of the club as an antagonist: an obstacle to be overcome, a threat to be parried, a challenge to be met. And that means one of the most remarkable campaigns in Notts County’s long and occasionally illustrious history will be relegated to a supporting role in someone else’s story.Notts County will enter Monday’s game tied with Wrexham on points. But only one of them can win the league.Mary Turner for The New York TimesTwo Teams, One NarrativeA few weeks ago, the producers of “Welcome to Wrexham” — the FX documentary following the takeover and attempted revival of the Welsh town’s forlorn soccer team by the actors and entrepreneurs Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney — made contact with executives at Notts County. Out of courtesy, they said, they wanted to establish how much the club wanted to feature in the show’s second season.It is hard to see how Notts County will not play a prominent role. For months, it and Wrexham have been locked in a breathless race to escape the National League, the fifth tier of English soccer. There is only one automatic promotion slot available — bringing with it a guaranteed return to the ranks of the Football League — and neither side has blinked in its pursuit of it.The pace has been eye-watering. Both are expected to end the season with more points than the division has ever seen. Their nearest rival is 25 points adrift. Each has fed off the other’s refusal to wilt. “We’ve been pushing each other,” said Connell Rawlinson, the Notts County captain. (He was born in Wrexham, and still lives close by: add that to the list of subplots.) “If Wrexham didn’t have us and we didn’t have them, would either of us be as good as we are?”Strictly speaking, Wrexham has long had the edge. Its squad is deeper, and more expensive. It has an extra game to play, as well as the home-field advantage when it meets Notts County on Monday evening, a match with the air of a ready-made season finale.In public, Notts County’s manager, Luke Williams, has done what he can to prepare the club — the fans, the executives, his players — for disappointment. “It’s not that we’re not clear,” he said after watching his side pick apart yet another opponent in late March. “It’s that we’re not even close. We need a two-loss swing.” One of those defeats duly arrived on Friday — Wrexham lost at Halifax — but it still held that crucial game in hand.In private, Williams acknowledges that the prospect of being forced to go through the National League’s somewhat arcane and distinctly treacherous playoff system in search of a second chance at promotion “haunts” him. “I haven’t slept since Christmas,” he said.Mary Turner for The New York TimesNotts County, founded in 1862, is the oldest professional soccer club in the world. Mary Turner for The New York TimesThe players have reacted slightly differently. “I’d rather be part of doing something like this, having that pressure and that stress, than sitting in mid-table with nothing to compete for,” Rawlinson said. “I’m sure the Wrexham team and the fans are enjoying it, too.” He paused, at that point, and thought about the truth of that statement. “Well, maybe not the fans, so much.”That graciousness is fairly typical of relations between the clubs. Given the intensity of their title race — and the stakes involved — it might be expected for a sporting rivalry to metastasize into an outright hostility, particularly given the advantages at Wrexham’s disposal.It is the Welsh club, after all, that can call on TikTok and Expedia as sponsors, and McElhenney, Reynolds and his wife, Blake Lively, as regular guests. Notts County’s stardust extends no further than the singer Jake Bugg, born in Nottingham, who sponsors the club’s away jerseys.That financial primacy has a real-world impact. When Wrexham was short of a goalkeeper, it coaxed Ben Foster, a former England international, out of retirement. Notts County had to recall a 19-year-old from a loan at a club two divisions below.For the most part, though, there is no sense of outrage or oppression. Instead, Rawlinson, said, there is a recognition that both teams are “steeped in history, and that neither club should be where they are.”“The publicity Wrexham has brought has been great for the division as a whole,” he said. “There are a lot of eyes on these games now.”There will be far more, though, who encounter them not as contemporaneous sporting events but as something else: a small part of a broader narrative, one that is packaged and polished and consumed on a delay of several months, once the conclusion is known.“I was coming out of a game a few weeks ago, when we’d just got to 97 points,” said Tom Wagstaff, a founder of the Notts County Talk YouTube channel. “As annoying as it is that we’re not clear at the top, it is incredible to be involved in something like this. I genuinely think it’s the best title race the league has ever seen. But I don’t know if that is how it will be perceived.”“The publicity Wrexham has brought has been great for the division as a whole,” Notts County’s captain said. “There are a lot of eyes on these games now.”Mary Turner for The New York TimesEnd GameThe framing, after all, is not in Notts County’s hands. The act of making television, after all, involves not simply telling a story but choosing which aspects of that story should be accentuated. Documentaries necessarily have a perspective. And that perspective changes the way a story is not only told, but understood.Nobody in Nottingham is particularly worried that “Welcome to Wrexham” will cast Notts County as the bad guys, the villains of the story of this season. Nobody at the club seems especially offended at the idea that the show might present the team backed by Hollywood money as in some way “plucky.”But they know that, however the season ends, far more people will watch the documentary than follow the National League in real time. For those viewers, Notts County’s story will not be a stand-alone achievement, a thing that happened in its own right and with its own meaning, but rather something that exists solely as it pertains to its effect on Wrexham. Its meaning will be contorted and confused and to some extent lost. It will not be consumed as sport at all, not really. It will just be part of the plot.In that, perhaps, there is a solace. “Really, we’ve done them a favor,” said George Vizard, Wagstaff’s co-presenter on YouTube. “If it wasn’t for us, they’d have won it weeks ago. And for the show, it must be better to win it like this than it would be if they had won it at a canter.” The story will, in the end, be about Wrexham. But it will be thanks to Notts County that there is now a much better story to tell. More