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    These Carol Singers Are Carrying on, Despite Omicron Variant

    Last year, most carol singing in Britain was canceled because of the pandemic. This year, a group of roving singers was determined to carry on, despite the Omicron variant.LONDON — Last Thursday night, many people in Britain were worrying about the Omicron variant of the coronavirus, and whether the pandemic was about to disrupt Christmas plans for the second year in a row.The country had just broken a record for new daily cases of the virus and Prime Minister Boris Johnson had urged the public to “think carefully” before going to Christmas parties.But for three carol singers standing outside Leadbelly’s, a bar in south London, there was a more immediate problem: a lack of tenors.Zoë Bonner, 41, a soprano and co-organizer of a caroling pub crawl to raise money for a homeless charity, explained that a scarcity of male voices “was always” an issue for choirs and carol singers.Then Peter Coleman, 24, strode across the square in front of the bar toward the group. “Houston, we have a man!” he said, introducing himself.Within a few minutes, the four singers began belting out an intricately harmonized rendition of “Deck the Halls” into the London night. When they hit the chorus, a group of nearby drinkers pushed themselves out of their chairs to see what on earth was going on.In Britain, the tradition of caroling dates to at least Victorian times and is mentioned in Charles Dickens’s novels.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesSince the coronavirus pandemic hit last year, live singing has been arguably the most demonized of cultural activities, after it was linked to several superspreader events. An infected singer, projecting their voice across a poorly ventilated space, can quickly spread virus particles.Last Christmas, caroling — when singers perform door to door, or pub to pub, a tradition that dates in Britain to at least Victorian times and is mentioned in Charles Dickens’s novels — stopped in much of Britain after government guidance for the holiday season said singers should consider canceling events, even outdoors. Many carol services in the country’s churches and cathedrals also came to a halt.This winter, it seemed attitudes had changed, at least among British lawmakers. On Dec. 8, when Boris Johnson announced that masks would become compulsory again in most indoor public spaces in England, in response to the Omicron variant, he said that singers were exempt. (A government spokesman later clarified that this didn’t mean people could sing while shopping and avoid wearing a mask in grocery stores.)At Thursday’s caroling pub crawl, Meg McClure, the event’s other organizer, said she realized that the event carried a risk — it felt a bit like “caroling on the edge.” But every singer had done a rapid antigen test before attending, she said, and the group had decided to perform outside if any of the pubs they visited were too busy.Also, she said, there was a chance the singers would only be caroling to a handful of people, since many Londoners were deciding to stay home. “I called all the pubs earlier to make sure we could come,” McClure said. “One actually said to me, ‘I’m not sure we’re going to have anyone in, love — but you’re welcome to visit.’”The evening felt a bit like “caroling on the edge,” one caroler said, although each singer had done a rapid antigen test before attending.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesWhen the group arrived at its first stop — The Salt Quay, a gastro pub overlooking the River Thames — it looked like that prediction might come true. The vast space contained only 11 drinkers, including three young men watching soccer on their phones. The group sang three carols, peaking with an uproarious “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” to polite applause, but few donations.At the next pub, The Brunel, it seemed things might be even worse. When the carolers arrived, the quaint venue had only five customers, two of them visibly drunk. But as soon as the group started singing — now boosted by another male singer, who had arrived late — they grabbed their audience’s attention.One of the pub’s patron’s, George Parrin, 77, pantomimed a heart attack when the voices soared. “Listen to these harmonies!” he shouted to a friend. The friend shushed him back.Two women moved close to the singers and swayed to the music, and several passers-by walked in looking surprised but happy to see the group. Spare coins and bills were soon landing in red collection tins.Molly Thomson, 26, said she had originally planned to go to a concert by the rapper Little Simz, but had decided not to go, because she was worried about catching the virus. “So this is amazing,” she said. “It’s the next best thing.”Outside The Mayflower pub, the eight-strong carol group sang a raucous “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and the haunting “Coventry Carol.”Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesFor the professional singers in the group, like Bonner, the last few weeks had been some of the busiest since the pandemic began. This month, she had performed in 12 carol services and concerts, and had a regular gig singing Christmas music while afternoon tea was served at an expensive London hotel. After a year of struggling to make a living, those jobs couldn’t have been more welcome, she said, though she feared new public health restrictions could soon make the work dry up again.After a couple of hours, the roving chorus reached the final pub: The Mayflower, named after the ship that in 1620 took Pilgrims to what is now the United States. The group was now eight members strong — including four men. They stood on the pub’s terrace, looking out onto the Thames, and sang a raucous “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and the haunting “Coventry Carol.”When they came to “Silent Night,” one of the onlookers, Clare Phillips, 32, turned to a friend and said, “This was my grandmother’s favorite carol,” then pulled her close for a hug.Afterward, the carolers gave one final performance on the cobbled streets outside the pub. People came to the windows of nearby apartments to listen, and customers drinking outside grabbed their phones to record the performance. A few even dared to join in.Helen Birkenshaw, a digital producer in her 40s, was one of those rapt by the singing. “These people just appeared out of nowhere,” she said. “It was like a little Christmas magic.” More

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    Terry Gilliam's Disputed Sondheim Show Finds a Home

    The director was set to stage a revival of “Into the Woods” in London. After a clash at the Old Vic theater, the much-anticipated production will now debut 115 miles away, in Bath, England.LONDON — For weeks, a question hung over London theater: What would happen to Stephen Sondheim’s “Into the Woods”?On Nov. 1, the Old Vic theater canceled a revival of the musical, co-directed by Terry Gilliam, after a dispute in which the renowned director was accused of endorsing transphobic views and playing down the MeToo movement. That left the production in limbo and London’s theater world wondering if anyone would dare to take it on.Now, there is an answer. On Aug. 19, 2022, Gilliam’s “Into the Woods” will debut at the Theater Royal in Bath, 115 miles from London. The show will run through Sep. 10, 2022, the theater said in a statement.The fuss around the revival — which had received Sondheim’s blessing before his death — began in May, when the Old Vic announced the production as the centerpiece of its new season. That news caused a stir on British social media, because of comments Gilliam had made, in a newspaper interview, about the MeToo movement and so-called cancel culture.In January 2020, Gilliam told The Independent that MeToo “was a witch hunt” and that he was tired of white men “being blamed for everything that is wrong with the world.” Anyway, he added, he now identified as “a Black lesbian in transition.”.css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}According to a report in The Stage, a British theater newspaper, “some within the Old Vic team” felt Gilliam’s comments were “at odds with the theater’s culture and values.”On May 12, Kate Varah, the Old Vic’s executive director, addressed staff concerns at an internal meeting. She said that she had spoken with Gilliam and that the conversation had reassured her that he shared the theater’s values.But the dispute escalated after Gilliam wrote a post on Facebook about “The Closer,” the Dave Chappelle comedy special on Netflix. In the show, the comedian comments mockingly on transgender issues and aligns himself with some feminists who say a transgender woman’s biological sex determines her gender and can’t be changed. Dozens of Netflix employees in Los Angeles staged a walkout over the special, accusing Netflix of endorsing bigotry.“There is a storm brewing over Netflix’s support for the show,” Gilliam wrote on Oct. 14. “I’d love to hear your opinions.”On Nov. 1, the Old Vic and Scenario Two, the musical’s co-producers, announced that they had “mutually agreed to cancel the production,” leading British newspapers to speculate that the Facebook post was the reason behind the decision. The theater and the director both declined to comment for this article. But on Monday, Gilliam said on Facebook that a group of up-and-coming playwrights, directors, costume designers and others at the theater was responsible for the cancellation.The Theater Royal in Bath, England. “Into the Woods” is set to open at the playhouse on Aug. 19, 2022.Nigel Jarvis/ShutterstockGilliam said that members of a short-term artistic development program at the theater, called the Old Vic 12, had “intimidated” the playhouse into canceling the musical after he recommended Chappelle’s special to his Facebook followers.Members of the program were “closed-minded, humor-averse ideologues,” Gilliam said, adding, “Freedom of Speech is often attacked, but I never imagined that Freedom of Recommendation would be under threat as well.”Three members of the Old Vic 12 declined to comment, but one did note that the program had ended several months before the Old Vic reached its decision on “Into the Woods.”In a phone interview, John Berry, a co-founder of Scenario Two, declined to comment on the Old Vic’s decision. His focus was on making an entertaining show, he added. “For me, nothing else matters.”The controversy around “Into the Woods” is not the only recent scandal involving accusations of bigotry in London’s theaters. In November, several prominent Jewish celebrities and journalists accused the Royal Court Theater of perpetuating antisemitic tropes after it staged a new play by the British playwright Al Smith, called “Rare Earth Mettle.” Early performances in the show’s run featured a character called Hershel Fink, a big-nosed, greedy billionaire who seemed to embody negative stereotypes about Jewish people.After a barrage of criticism on social media and in British newspapers, the character’s name was changed. The theater said in a statement that a Jewish theater director had raised concerns about the character in a September workshop: “We acknowledge our wrongdoing and will include antisemitism in future anti-oppression practices and training,” the statement said.Berry declined to comment on whether the two controversies had implications for theater makers, but added, “I have my own views.”He was certain of one thing, though: “There’s certainly not going to be anything controversial” in his production of “Into the Woods.”“It’s going to be vintage Terry Gilliam,” he said. More

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    No Mask Required: The Joys and Fears of Seeing U.K. Theater Now

    With mask wearing and proof of vaccination not legally required, it’s up to venues and audience members to make their own decisions about coronavirus safety.LONDON — Before the Covid-19 pandemic hit, Nicolette Jones used to go to the theater with her daughter about 50 times a year.Now, she’s not going at all. “Theater is my relaxation, my escape,” said Jones, 61. “The thought of sitting next to somebody who is unmasked for two hours, laughing and whatever, that is going to remove all that,” she added.Theaters here have now been allowed to open without restrictions for three months, and while many audience members have been delighted to return to live performances, inconsistent rules are troubling some fans.Unlike on Broadway, theatergoers in England are not required to wear masks in their seats, or be fully vaccinated. Instead, it’s up to each venue to decide what they require. Most West End venues are asking for proof of vaccination or a negative test result at the door, but some smaller venues don’t. Spectators are also encouraged to wear masks, but many choose not to, even as the number of virus cases in Britain steadily grows.How are theater fans feeling about this new normal? Has the pandemic changed what they’re seeing, and how they’re seeing it?We spoke to seven other theater enthusiasts to find out. These are edited extracts from those conversations.Robbie Curran, 29Actor and writerNick Arthur DanielI’ve mainly been going to fringe theater. The best moment so far was probably in “The N.W. Trilogy” at The Kiln, these three plays about immigrants in northwest London.At the end, the whole cast came together with banners, and marched. And it had such a high energy and pulse, I turned to my partner and she went, “Wow, we’ve missed this!” It’s those moments of real connection and catharsis that we were lacking in lockdown.At the small venues no one’s asked to check vaccine status or any of that. They’re probably just trying to get their audiences back so going on trust that everyone is doing their best.With masks, it’s different every night. Sometimes one person is wearing a mask, sometimes half the audience is; sometimes no masks, sometimes all masks.Fazilet Hadi, 64Works for a disability organizationAlbert ClackI hate to admit this — some of my friends would be horrified — but I haven’t been wearing a mask. I don’t know why. I suppose because I’m blind, I can’t see who’s wearing them and who’s not, so in my little world no one is! No one’s said anything to me.I’m not fussed about Covid, really. We’ve all got different levels of risk.I’ve been to “Twelfth Night” at The Globe, with audio description, and that felt so good. There wasn’t an interval and I did think, “Oh, my goodness, two hours 40 minutes without a break!” But it flew by.I’ve got three more plays booked. What Covid’s done to me is just clarify what I love doing, accentuating the pleasure. That might wear off, but hasn’t yet.Nikki Reilly, 46, and Izzy Reilly, 15Maths and computing teacher; studentIzzy ReillyNikki: Going to the theater’s always been expensive, but we found this app where you can buy rush tickets on the day, and because many people aren’t ready to go back yet, and there isn’t the influx of tourists you normally get in London. We saw “Heathers” one day, and we saw “Come From Away” in the stalls for just £25 ($34). Normally it’d be £150!Izzy: It feels like I’ve got so much more agency to see things I want to. I can go, “Can we see this?” and normally we can.Nikki: We’ve been to the West End six times. As soon as it gets busy again, we’ll probably go back to local theaters. Izzy’s at school and I’m a teacher, so maybe we’re more used to being around big groups of people: We haven’t been concerned about Covid. And everyone’s been wearing masks. What bothers me more has been traveling to the theaters: People not wearing masks on the train, the tube, particularly if they’re ill and coughing. That does concern me.Jane Duffus, 43AuthorJon CraigPre-Covid, I used to go to the theater all the time. But tomorrow is my first trip. I’m going to see “Wuthering Heights” at the Bristol Old Vic, and I specifically booked it as it’s socially distanced. We’re lucky where I live, a few theaters are still doing distanced performances.I just haven’t been ready until now. I went to an event in August and it really freaked me out: About 400 people, no distancing and I was one of only about six people wearing a mask. A few days later, a friend texted me to say they had Covid. I didn’t feel remotely relaxed. Every time I heard a cough … It was a lot.I picked “Wuthering Heights” as I love Wise Children, the company doing it. If you’re going to put yourself through anxiety, it should be something you know you’ll enjoy.Bryony Rose20, Theater YouTuberTracy J.I used to see some shows again and again: “Six” and “& Juliet.” But when theater wasn’t there, it sparked a passion for shows I hadn’t seen, so I’ve tried to really branch out. It’s still mainly musicals, but I love them.“Frozen” was absolutely incredible, especially seeing the younger generation in the audience and their eyes lighting up, like mine did at that age. At the end of “Let It Go,” I almost cried. The diversity in the ensemble was really inspiring too.In lockdown, when I couldn’t express my passion for theater, it was really difficult. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on that to express who I was.When theaters reopened, I got so many comments from people on my channel saying “I want to go to a show, but I’m worried it’s not safe.” So I started using my blogs to show there were things in place to keep people safe, and how people can do things themselves like a test at home. Now I’m getting all these comments saying, “Because of you, I feel safe enough to go.”Stephanie Kempson, 34DirectorPaul BlakemoreI’m a theater director so I need to see work, but I’ve been getting nervous as people stopped wearing masks this autumn.I’ve been trying to pull favors so I can get into rehearsals to see things, and I’m trying to watch live streams, but often only one performance in a run is being live streamed now.So socially distanced performances are the way to go for me. I have ME/CFS so I’m aware of what long Covid could be like.People are so excited to be back and I can forgive them for that, but it does seem there’s a lack of awareness and common-mindedness. More

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    James Bond Saved the World, but Can He Rescue U.K. Movie Theaters?

    The 25th installment of the Bond franchise has brought record-breaking numbers of people back to British movie theaters, but pressures on the industry continue.LONDON — By the time the 25th James Bond movie, “No Time to Die,” premiered to an audience of stars, members of the royal family and key workers here last week, it seemed to have the full weight of Britain’s movie theater industry on its shoulders.The industry has endured 18 months of on-and-off closures while desperately trying to avoid running out of cash as Hollywood studios delayed would-be blockbusters because of coronavirus restrictions overseas, and sent movies to streaming platforms, sometimes bypassing a theatrical release entirely.Expectations and hopes for “No Time to Die,” therefore, were high: Daniel Craig’s two previous Bond films, “Skyfall” and “Spectre,” are the second and third highest-grossing films ever at the British box office, and the franchise is a beloved — if sometimes bemoaned — fixture in British cultural life.“We’ll look back on Bond as being a watershed moment for the industry,” said Tim Richards, the founder and chief executive of Vue, the third-largest movie theater chain in Britain.At the Vue theater in the West End of London, branded popcorn for opening night.Jeremie Souteyrat for The New York TimesTheaters were full for the 25th Bond film.Jeremie Souteyrat for The New York TimesA moviegoer dressed up in honor of the suave spy, sipping Champagne.Jeremie Souteyrat for The New York TimesBut with pressure from streaming services and the financial toll of the pandemic still in play, it remains to be seen in what direction this watershed moment will take the British movie theater industry in the longer term.After a thrice-delayed release, “No Time to Die” has successfully ushered people back into theaters. Over the opening weekend — from Thursday through Sunday — it made £26 million, or $35 million, at the box office, not just breaking pandemic records, but also surpassing the opening weekends of the two previous Bond films. This puts it in the top five opening weekends for movies in Britain ever, according to data from the British Film Institute.Across the country, movie theaters made a spectacle of the 163-minute, $250 million-budget film. Some London big chain theaters scheduled dozens of screenings a day, and others hosted live music to entertain viewers as they waited. There were opening night parties, which encouraged viewers to dress up in black tie for cocktails and canapés at £50, or $68, a person.Jack Piggott, 31, was among the first to watch the film at the 0:07 a.m. screening at the Curzon in Mayfair, part of a small chain of movie theaters, which was for the first time putting on midnight premieres. Not only is Bond a major moment in British film, it’s also Craig’s last outing as the spy and “you might as well go all in,” he said on Thursday as he waited for the movie to start.Despite the late hour, the lure of Bond pulled in passers-by like Canset Klasmeyer, who made an impromptu decision to see the film even though she had tickets booked for Monday. “It’s a big event,” she said.Even as ticket sales rise, there are many challenges, and Richards doesn’t expect Vue to be back to where it was in 2019 until late 2023.Some of London’s big chain theaters scheduled dozens of screenings a day.Jeremie Souteyrat for The New York TimesAcross the industry, British theaters will have to find ways to recover from the financial blow of the past 18 months, which saw them take on heavy loads of debt or ask shareholders for cash. It’s still unclear how much the pandemic might permanently change consumer behaviors, as people reconsider what types of leisure experiences they want to have outside their homes.And critically, the influence of streaming has fundamentally changed the industry as studios make big budget films available sooner through on-demand services. For years, movie theaters enjoyed a period of screening exclusivity that lasted about three months. That’s being cut in half by recent negotiations as streaming services balloon.In the two years before the pandemic, British movie theaters were experiencing their best years since the early 1970s, thanks to a flow of big budget films, as well as major investments into recliner seating and high-tech sound systems. Stopped in their tracks by lockdowns, companies tried to stem the outflow of cash by furloughing staff members and deferring rent payments.At the end of August 2020, during an interval in Britain’s lockdown, Christopher Nolan’s “Tenet” was released in cinemas. It was just a fleeting moment of hope. Not long after that, as restrictions tightened, S&P Global downgraded the credit ratings of Vue and Cineworld, Britain’s largest movie theater chain — which also owns Regal Cinemas in the United States — and gave them a negative outlook. And the pandemic dragged on.It has been a painful time for all, including independent movie theaters like Peckhamplex, a southeast London institution that sells tickets for just £5. It used almost all of the government support on offer, including furlough, tax referrals and a grant for independent movie theaters, according to John Reiss, the chairman of Peckhamplex.But to stay afloat the movie theater also spent money that had been painstakingly set aside for more than a decade for major refurbishments, and it could take another year for the movie theater to return to prepandemic sales, Reiss said.At the Odeon theater in London’s West End, people queued to get into opening night screenings of “No Time to Die.”Jeremie Souteyrat for The New York TimesFor some moviegoers, evening wear wasn’t enough: they also donned masks of Léa Seydoux and Daniel Craig, who star in the film.Jeremie Souteyrat for The New York Times“It’s a big event,” said one viewer who saw the film on opening night.Jeremie Souteyrat for The New York TimesBond has given a meaningful boost to the industry — in one weekend it eclipsed the total box office earnings for the previously highest-grossing film of the pandemic, “Peter Rabbit 2: The Runaway” — but “No Time to Die” is still just one film. The theater industry’s credit ratings and outlook are “very unlikely to change based on the great success of any particular movie release,” said Abigail Klimovich, a credit analyst at S&P Global. There is still an uncertain path to recovery for movie theater earnings, she said.Among the hurdles is the virus itself, which is especially troubling as the days get colder and it gets harder to keep physically distant. Britain has a high vaccination rate, but daily case numbers are averaging more than 30,000. At the same time, many households are expected to face a squeeze on their incomes from high energy prices, rising inflation and cuts to benefits and other income support.For Philip Knatchbull, the chief executive of Curzon, change in the industry couldn’t come soon enough. “There’s an existential threat to cinema generally, as we know it,” he said.For one, independent cinema has long been pushed out of many large movie theaters that had to make room for the long releases of big-budget films, Knatchbull said.Curzon has a different model, in which 14 plush movie theaters are just one of three strands of the business. It’s also a film distributor, releasing a catalog of predominantly independent and foreign language films, including Bong Joon Ho’s “Parasite,” in Britain. And for the past decade, it has embraced streaming with its own on-demand service.Soon Knatchbull hopes to be offering movies on the Curzon on-demand service from other distributors like Sony, Paramount and Universal.Amid all of this upheaval, Vue’s Richards sounds relatively relaxed. The old exclusivity period was “prehistoric,” he said, adding that he hopes the new 45-day release window will encourage streaming services to release more of their movies in theaters.“I know it’s clichéd, but I do believe we are about to enter into a second golden age of cinema,” he said. Several factors are coalescing here: The audience has returned, there is a promising slate of new and delayed films to be released over the next year and having an exclusive, albeit, shorter release window works, Richards said.Knatchbull, speaking from Curzon’s more disruptive position in the industry, also seems optimistic. “During the pandemic, all the changes I anticipated happening over maybe over a five-year period were just accelerated,” he said.Now, he said, there’s “a lot of experimentation, a lot of hurt, a lot of anger, a lot of opportunity from different parts of the film industry.” More

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    Roger Michell, Director of ‘Notting Hill,’ Is Dead at 65

    He was an accomplished theater director as well as a filmmaker. But he was best known for his blockbuster romantic comedy starring Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant.Roger Michell, the British theater and film director best known for “Notting Hill,” the wildly popular 1999 romantic comedy that somewhat overshadowed the rest of his extensive and diverse body of work, died on Wednesday. He was 65.His family announced his death in a statement released by his publicist. The statement did not say where he died or what the cause was.Mr. Michell’s first film, a 1995 adaptation of Jane Austen’s novel “Persuasion,” caught the eye of the screenwriter Richard Curtis, who had scored a major success with “Four Weddings and a Funeral” the year before. Mr. Curtis was looking for someone to direct his next screenplay, about a humble London bookseller who falls in love with a movie star.Though he found the idea of trying to match a blockbuster like “Four Weddings and a Funeral” to be daunting, Mr. Michell said yes immediately. He knew he wanted to cast Julia Roberts as the movie star, but he cast around for a male lead before settling on Hugh Grant, who had also starred in “Four Weddings.”“We toyed with the idea of casting someone else because of an anxiety about the film being seen as a retread, a sequel,” Mr. Michell told The Guardian in 1999. “Then we thought, ‘How ridiculous — we have the greatest actor in the world for this kind of material, wanting to do this film.’”Mr. Michell’s worries proved to be unwarranted: “Notting Hill” grossed $262 million worldwide, $6 million more than “Four Weddings” had. It was the top-grossing British film at the time (it has since been surpassed by the “Harry Potter” movies, among others), though Mr. Michell was ambivalent about its success.“Actually I sometimes wonder whether doing ‘Notting Hill’ was a bad thing,” he told The Birmingham Post in 2002, “because it was so successful, everybody is so surprised when I do anything different.”Julia Roberts, Huge Grant and Emma Chambers in Mr. Michell’s best-known movie, “Notting Hill” (1999).Clive Coote / Universal PicturesHe continued to notch critical and commercial successes. His next film was “Changing Lanes,” a big-budget thriller with Ben Affleck and Samuel L. Jackson that did well at the box office, though most of his subsequent films were smaller productions, among them “The Mother” (2003), about a middle-aged woman’s affair with a younger man, and “Enduring Love” (2004), an adaptation of a novel by Ian McEwan. Both films starred Daniel Craig, one of the many actors who worked with Mr. Michell frequently.Mr. Michell was supposed to direct Mr. Craig as James Bond in “Quantum of Solace” (2008), but he backed out after he realized that the film had no script and was being rushed forward to meet the producers’ release date.He remained a popular director in London theater while continuing to work in film. He had a personal policy of directing only new plays, the exception being the work of Harold Pinter, his hero.“I have strong views about the kind of work I want to do,” he told The Financial Times in 2004. “That’s all that guides me. I don’t have any other kind of strategy. I’m ambitious — what else is there?”Mr. Michell was born on June 5, 1956, in Pretoria, South Africa, where his British father was stationed as a diplomat. As a child he moved around often; he lived in Damascus and Beirut, and he was in Prague to witness tanks rolling through during the city during the Soviet invasion of 1968.Mr. Michell’s first marriage, to the actress Kate Buffery, ended in divorce. He was separated from his second wife, the actress Anna Maxwell Martin. He is also survived by his children, Harry, Rosie, Maggie and Nancy.Mr. Michell studied English at the University of Cambridge. After graduating in 1977, he began working for a theater company in Brighton. A year later he got his first big break: a job as an assistant director at the Royal Theater Company in London.There he worked alongside old theater hands like the playwrights John Osborne and Samuel Beckett — whom he remembered, in a 2017 interview with The Sunday Star-Times, a New Zealand newspaper, as “the opposite of this sort of terrifying eagle presence that you might suspect from photographs.”He also worked with the next generation of directors and writers, including Danny Boyle, who would win an Academy Award for directing “Slumdog Millionaire” (2008), and Hanif Kureishi, an up-and-coming novelist and playwright.Mr. Michell and Mr. Kureishi later became collaborators. Mr. Michell directed a 1993 adaptation of Mr. Kureishi’s novel “The Buddha of Suburbia” (1990) as a BBC series, and Mr. Kureishi wrote the script for two of Mr. Michell’s films, “The Mother” and “Venus” (2006), starring Peter O’Toole.Mr. Michell’s most recent film is “The Duke,” a comedy about the 1961 theft of a painting of the Duke of Marlborough from the National Gallery in London, starring Helen Mirren and Jim Broadbent. It was shown at film festivals in 2020 and is scheduled for general release next year.Although his success with “Notting Hill” vaulted him into the top ranks of English-language directors, Mr. Michell kept a low profile, preferring to let his actors and screenwriters shine — a quality that may explain why so many actors liked working with him.“As a species, stars are pretty frightening: they’re iconic and you’re not,” he said in the Guardian interview. “But like any other performers, they thrive on a good environment. Part of my job is to give the impression of enormous calm; it’s not necessarily how I feel.” More

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    A Celebrated Virtuoso on an Instrument She Wasn’t Meant to Play

    The hallowed tradition of kora playing in Sona Jobarteh’s family passed down the male line. One of her teachers dismissed it as “an ethnic thing.” But it has brought her international acclaim.MANCHESTER, England — The ethereal sound of the kora, a centuries-old West African instrument, reverberated as Sona Jobarteh, a virtuoso from one of Gambia’s most celebrated musical families, plucked its strings with her forefingers and thumbs.Under purple stage lights at the Manchester International Festival in July — her first performance since the pandemic began — Ms. Jobarteh added her velvet voice to the crisp sound of the kora, a 21-string instrument that combines the qualities of a lute and a harp. She sings in Mandinka, a language spoken by one of Gambia’s many ethnic groups, and the words descended like rainfall on the audience in northern England.Like her father and relatives stretching back generations, Ms. Jobarteh is a griot — a musician or poet whose tradition is preserved through the family bloodline. And in West Africa the griot fills a far broader role: not just as a kora master, but also as a historian, genealogist, mediator, teacher and guardian of cultural history.“The griot is someone who is a pillar of society, who people go to for guidance, for advice, for wisdom,” said Ms. Jobarteh, who is 37.Until Ms. Jobarteh, kora masters had one other notable characteristic: They were always male. By tradition, the playing of the kora is passed from father to son, but for many years Ms. Jobarteh was her father’s only child. “Whatever I do, it’s always in the awkward box,” she said, laughing.She initially shunned the label of first female kora master, preferring to be appreciated for her abilities rather than her gender. “I hated it with a passion,” she said. “I felt like no one would listen to what I was playing, that all they would do is observe what I am.”But she has come to embrace that status, in part because her achievements have inspired young female students. “It’s much bigger than just being about me,” she said. “It’s about instilling that seed of inspiration in girls.”The kora was also what brought her parents together.The kora, a 21-string instrument, combines the qualities of a lute and a harp.Adama Jalloh for The New York TimesIn 1982, a year before Ms. Jobarteh was born, her mother, Galina Chester, who is English and who had never left Britain, flew to Senegal. She was traveling with Ms. Jobarteh’s half brother, Tunde Jegede, a British-Nigerian who is now a multi-instrumentalist and composer, to connect him with his African heritage.Toting a piece of paper scrawled with the name of a kora master, Ms. Chester drove across the desert to Gambia, where there was no airport at the time, to the house of Amadu Bansang Jobarteh, whose influence was so broad that he served as an adviser to Gambia’s first president.There, she met the kora master’s son and primary student, Sanjally — who would go on to become Ms. Jobarteh’s father. “That’s how she met my father, and how my story began,” Ms. Jobarteh said.Ms. Jobarteh’s childhood straddled two worlds: Britain, where she was born, and Kembujeh, her grandfather’s village in Gambia, where, enveloped by the warmth of her extended family, she found her “cultural grounding.”Griot women are typically taught to sing, but her grandmother Kumunaa encouraged her to sit with her grandfather and listen to the kora.A few years ago, Ms. Jobarteh’s mother shared letters with her daughter in which Kumunaa had predicted that the girl would become a griot and pleaded that her lineage be nurtured.“I just wish she was alive for me to ask her what was in her mind,” Ms. Jobarteh said. “She knew I was a girl. She knew it was not acceptable.”Ms. Jobarteh’s first kora teacher was Mr. Jegede, her half brother, whom she began playing the instrument with at age 3. (Although Mr. Jegede is a virtuoso in his own right, he is not a griot, coming from outside the Jobarteh bloodline.)She later became determined to carve out a path in classical music. At 14, she took composition lessons at the Purcell School for Young Musicians, outside London. Yet her initial instrument remained in her periphery: The school library displayed a kora that Tunde had donated as a student there. Drawn to it, she tuned and played it, and the school eventually gave it to her.A year later, she enrolled in the Royal College of Music, where she learned the cello, harpsichord and piano. But her personal musical legacy wasn’t welcome. One instructor dismissed the kora as an “ethnic thing,” she said, and another said of the instrument, “If you want to succeed, this is not a part of it.”Three years into her education there, Ms. Jobarteh deliberately failed her annual assessment in piano and cello. “I was shaking,” she said. “It felt so wrong, but I just knew, ‘I can’t do this to myself anymore.’”The college declined to comment for this article.Ms. Jobarteh instead asked her father to officially teach her to play the kora, and went on to train with him for several years. He told her, “I have a duty to give you what is mine,” she recalled.Ms. Jobarteh’s 14-year-old son, Sidiki Jobarteh-Codjoe, playing onstage with his mother in Manchester.Adama Jalloh for The New York TimesSome families say the instrument dates to the establishment of the griot tradition in the 13th-century Mandinka empire. The first written account of the kora, by the Scottish explorer Mungo Park, appeared in 1797, according to Lucy Durán, a professor of music at the University of London’s School of Oriental and African Studies. Its popular origin story, Ms. Jobarteh said, is that it was stolen from a jinn, a supernatural being mentioned in Islam.The Mandinkas and griots attracted widespread interest after the writer Alex Haley traced his ancestry to a Gambian village in the Pulitzer Prize-winning book “Roots.” But their ancient melodies had made their way across the Atlantic centuries earlier, aboard ships carrying enslaved Africans, and morphed into the early American blues.The kora, with its improvised, oral tradition, can take decades to master. “You learn with your ears, not with your hands,” Ms. Jobarteh said.For years, she was reluctant to perform in Gambia, where a professional female kora virtuoso had never been seen onstage. But her stage debut with her family, in 2011, was met with adulation.The release of her debut album that year was also a leap of faith, as Ms. Jobarteh sang in Mandinka rather than in English, which could garner more commercial success. “I thought, ‘This is it. I’ve just put my life down the plug hole,’” she recalled.The album propelled Ms. Jobarteh’s music around the world, from the United States to New Zealand. And that brought her something far more meaningful than royalties.Ms. Jobarteh performing in Manchester.Adama Jalloh for The New York Times“It makes Africans feel something, to see that someone is being respected to sing in their own language, dress in their own clothes, play their own music,” she said. “That is a message not just for Gambians — it’s for the whole African continent.”Although preserving her heritage is Ms. Jobarteh’s passion, she says her real purpose is educational reform in Gambia — a broader mission that aligns with her role of griot.In 2015, she opened The Gambia Academy in Kartong, a coastal town, in part to prevent a brain-drain of young people seeking better prospects abroad. “I don’t want the next generation to have to do that,” she said, “where you have to have the privilege of having European connections or titles to be able to succeed in your own society.”With a curriculum that centers on West African traditions, the school now has 32 students, including her 14-year-old son, Sidiki, and 9-year-old daughter, Saadio. That has helped her pass down her family tradition, too, and onstage in Manchester Sidiki played the xylophone-like balafon and Saadio percussion.They are learning the griot repertoire — not from their father, but from their mother, a guardian of seven centuries of tradition. More

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    A New Must-Have for TV and Movie Shoots: Therapists

    Working on set can be challenging. In Britain, many productions are hiring trained counselors to help casts and crew cope.LONDON — When Lou Platt talks about her increasingly in-demand TV and movie production job, she has to make one thing clear: She can’t discuss 99 percent of the work itself.Platt, 41, is a British therapist who has worked on high-profile productions like “I May Destroy You,” Michaela Coel’s TV series inspired by her own experience of sexual assault.Client confidentiality means Platt can’t say exactly what happens in her sessions, and nondisclosure agreements mean she can’t even reveal most of her productions’ names. People often misconstrue what her work is about, she said in an interview, thinking she’s there to spot — and put a stop to — story lines or scenes that might upset actors and technicians.“My role is to actually help the art take greater risks,” she said, adding that no one makes their best work if they’re stressed or anxious.Sometimes, Platt — a former actor — is involved before filming begins, helping writers turn harrowing autobiographical material into scripts. Other times, she introduces herself to the cast and crew at the start of filming, and lets them know they can call her. She’s also there for film editors who have to watch harrowing scenes over and over while finishing off a show.The presence of on-set and on-call therapists is particularly notable in British film and TV, which has been involved in an industrywide discussion about mental health since 2017, when Michael Harm, a location manager who had worked on numerous movies including the Harry Potter franchise, killed himself.The day he died, Harm sent a letter to a colleague, Sue Quinn, saying he had nowhere to turn for help with struggles at work, and urging her to change that for others in the industry.“You’re pushed, pushed, pushed and pushed to the limit, all the time,” said Quinn, also a location manager, about the experience of working on a typical set. That’s especially true, she said, when producers prioritize remaining on budget over mental health. Actors and crew work exhausting hours and many experience bullying, she added.After receiving the letter, Quinn approached a British nonprofit that supports movie and TV workers experiencing financial troubles, and asked it to develop a help line for workers experiencing issues including depression, anxiety and bullying as well as financial stress. The following year, that organization, the Film and TV Charity, started a 24-hour phone line: It received around 7,000 calls in 2020, said Valeria Bullo, a member of the charity’s mental health team.The charity also conducted a survey to assess the extent of mental health problems in the industry. Of 9,000 respondents, over half said they’d considered taking their own life.Before filming started on “I May Destroy You,” Coel and her team knew they wanted a therapist involved, the writer and actress said in an email exchange. Initially, the expectation was that Platt would just work with Coel if “shooting some of the darker scenes that reflected my own life became emotionally taxing,” Coel said. But then a producer decided to make the therapist available to everyone.“The Underground Railroad” employed a therapist on set.Atsushi Nishijima/Amazon StudiosFor “I May Destroy You,” Michaela Coel initially brought mental health support on for herself.HBO, via Associated Press“She is very clearly on the side of the person who is in need,” Coel said of Platt. She puts that person “before producers, directors and money, and television itself. And actually she may have been the only person on set able to do that,” she added.Joy Gharoro-Akpojotor, a writer and producer, said she first worked with Platt while writing a short film about her experience of seeking asylum in Britain. She found their sessions so useful that she decided to bring Platt onto the sets for several other productions she was working on, including an upbeat Christmas movie.“It should be part of how we all work, as we don’t know what anyone’s working through,” Gharoro-Akpojotor said.When TV companies came back to work last year after lockdowns across Britain lifted, casts and crew found themselves under pressure to make up for lost time, cramming a year’s work into a few months, according to Sarah McCaffrey, another therapist whose company, Solas Mind, provides counseling in the industry.These compressed timelines were “almost unsustainable,” McCaffrey said. On top of that, crew were often split up into in small “bubbles,” isolated from each other for coronavirus safety, which meant fewer social interactions. On some productions, up to 30 people had booked sessions with her company, she said.The pandemic also seems to have encouraged American companies to offer more on-set support. Last April, Netflix hired Jake Knapik, a clinical psychologist, to help develop mental health courses for its British and United States productions. Knapik said that “Covid has been the catalyst,” noting that lockdowns helped everyone realize just how debilitating loneliness and anxiety could be.Kim Whyte was on hand to offer support to the cast and crew of Amazon’s “The Underground Railroad,” whether they wanted to talk about the production or their home lives.Leslie Ryann McKellar for The New York TimesWhen Amazon was filming “The Underground Railroad,” a series about enslaved workers fleeing a cotton plantation, the therapist Kim Whyte was on set for much of the shoot. Some therapists prefer working off-site so people avoid the possible stigma of being seen receiving mental health support, but Whyte said she walked around chatting with everyone between takes: that way nobody knew when she was discussing something serious, or something trivial.When someone needed to talk something through, it was sometimes about issues raised by the show, she said. “Some of the cast and crew were disturbed by the content — just the institution of slavery,” she added. But just as often, they wanted to talk about issues they were dealing with at home, and how those were having an impact on their mood, like in any workplace.Platt said she felt therapists should also be available after productions end, in case problems emerge later. “You wouldn’t have therapy for the effect of a car crash while you’re still in hospital,” she said. Actors and writers should even have access to counseling when promoting films, she added, since journalists often ask them to relive traumatic experiences over and over again.“At the moment, all this is radical,” Platt said. But she hoped the stigma would disappear, and that soon on-set mental health support would be considered normal: She imagined a therapist’s trailer, with a line of people happy to be seen waiting outside. More

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    Graham Vick, Director Who Opened Opera’s Doors, Dies at 67

    The British director was no stranger to the prestige houses, but his calls to make opera more inclusive and available to everyone eventually found their moment.LONDON — Graham Vick, a British opera director who worked at prestigious houses like the Metropolitan Opera and La Scala while also seeking to broaden opera’s appeal by staging works in abandoned rock clubs and former factories and by bringing more diversity to casting, died on Saturday in London. He was 67.The cause was complications of Covid-19, the Birmingham Opera Company, which he founded, said in a news release.Mr. Vick spent much of the coronavirus pandemic in Crete, Greece, and returned to Britain in June to take part in rehearsals for a Birmingham Opera production of Wagner’s “Das Rhinegold,” Jonathan Groves, his agent, said in a telephone interview.Mr. Vick was artistic director at the company, which he saw as a vehicle to bring opera to everyone. His productions there, which were in English, often included amateur performers. And he insisted on keeping ticket prices low so that anyone could attend, and on hiring singers who reflected the ethnic diversity of Birmingham, Britain’s second largest city. His immersive production of Verdi’s “Otello” in 2009 featured Ronald Samm, the first Black tenor to sing the title role in a professional production in Britain.The company never held V.I.P. receptions because Mr. Vick believed that no audience member should be seen as above any other.Ronald Samm was the first Black tenor to sing the title role in “Otello” in a professional production in Britain.Peter Roy“You do not need to be educated to be touched, to be moved and excited by opera,” he said in a speech at the Royal Philharmonic Society Music Awards in 2016. “You only need to experience it directly at first hand, with nothing getting in the way.”Opera makers must “remove the barriers and make the connections that will release its power for everybody,” he added.Oliver Mears, the Royal Opera House’s director of opera, said in a statement that Mr. Vick had been “a true innovator in the way he integrated community work into our art form.”“Many people from hugely diverse backgrounds love opera — and first experienced it — through his work,” he said.Graham Vick was born on Dec. 30, 1953, in Birkenhead, near Liverpool. His father, Arnold, worked in a clothing store, while his mother Muriel (Hynes) Vick worked in the personnel department of a factory. His love of the stage bloomed at age 5 when he saw a production of “Peter Pan.”“It was a complete road-to-Damascus moment,” he told The Times of London in 2014. “Everything was there — the flight through the window into another world, a bigger world.”Opera gave him similar opportunities to “fly, soar, breathe and scream,” he said.Mr. Vick studied at the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester, England, intending to become a conductor. But he turned to directing and created his first production at 22. Two years later, he directed a production of Gustav Holst’s “Savitri” for Scottish Opera and soon became its director of productions.With Scottish Opera, he quickly showed his desire to bring opera to local communities. He led Opera-Go-Round, an initiative in which a small troupe traveled to remote parts of Scotland’s Highlands and islands, often performing with just piano accompaniment. He also brought opera singers to factories to perform during lunch breaks.Mr. Vick became director of productions at the Glyndebourne Festival in 1994. That same year he made his debut at the Metropolitan Opera with a raucous staging of Shostakovich’s “Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk,” the first time the company performed the opera. He also directed Schoenberg’s “Moses und Aron” and “Il Trovatore” at the Met.Anthony Tommasini of The New York Times called Mr. Vick’s “Moses und Aron” “a starkly modern yet poignantly human staging.”Mr. Vick put on his first production at La Scala in Milan in 1996, directing Luciano Berio’s “Outis.” In 1999, after a multiyear renovation and expansion, he reopened London’s Royal Opera House with Verdi’s “Falstaff.”Mr. Vick with the cast of “Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk” at the Birmingham Opera in 2019.Adam FradgleySome of his productions received mixed or even harsh reviews. “Stalin was right,” Edward Rothstein wrote in The Times in reviewing “Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk” in 1994, calling Mr. Vick’s production “crude, primitive, vulgar,” just as Stalin had done with Shostakovich’s original. Just as often they were praised, however.Despite Mr. Vick’s success at traditional opera houses, he sometimes criticized them. “They’re huge, glamorous, fabulous, seductive institutions, but they’re also a dangerous black hole where great art can so easily become self-serving product,” he told the BBC in 2012.Mr. Vick’s work at the Birmingham Opera Company, which he founded in 1987, was celebrated in Britain for its bold vision. Its first production, another “Falstaff,” was staged inside a recreation center in the city; other productions took place in a burned-out ballroom above a shopping center and in an abandoned warehouse.Mr. Vick decided to use amateurs after rehearsing a Rossini opera in Pesaro, Italy, in the 1990s. It was so hot and airless one day, he recalled in a 2003 lecture, that he opened the theater’s doors to the street and was shocked to see a group of teenagers stop their soccer game and watch, transfixed.“To reach this kind of constituency in Birmingham, we decided to recruit members of the community into our work,” he said. People who bought tickets should see reflections of themselves onstage and in the production team, he added.Mr. Vick kept returning to Birmingham because, he said, it was only there, “in the glorious participation of audience and performers,” that he felt whole.The company was praised not only for its inclusivity. Its 2009 staging of “Otello” “gets you in the heart and the guts,” Rian Evans wrote in The Guardian. And Mark Swed, in The Los Angeles Times, called Mr. Vick’s production of Karlheinz Stockhausen’s “Mittwoch aus Licht” in 2012 “otherworldly.” (It included string players performing in helicopters and a camel, and was part of Britain’s 2012 Olympic Games celebrations.)“If opera is meant to change your perception of what is possible and worthwhile, to dream the impossible dream and all that, then this is clearly the spiritually uplifting way to do it,” Mr. Swed added.Mr. Vick, who died in a hospital, is survived by his partner, the choreographer Ron Howell, as well as an older brother, Hedley.In his speech at the Royal Philharmonic Society awards, Mr. Vick urged those in the opera world to “get out of our ghetto” and follow the Birmingham example in trying to reflect the community where a company is based.People need to “embrace the future and help build a world we want to live in,” he said, “not hide away fiddling while Rome burns.” More