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    Will Sharpe, Star of Lena Dunham’s ‘Too Much,’ Is a Renaissance Man

    When Will Sharpe arrived at Cambridge University in the mid-aughts, he was one of many undergraduates wanting to join Footlights, the storied sketch comedy troupe that had launched the careers of Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie and Emma Thompson. His friends thought it best to spend a few months figuring out what kind of comedy Footlights might favor before applying, but Sharpe wanted to jump right in.At a first-semester showcase open to nonmembers, Sharpe and his friends performed a wacky sketch that involved pretending to eat a tub of Vaseline by the handful. He was made a member and was later elected president of the troupe.Sharpe’s biweekly Footlights performances — which also included playing a white crayon that was sad it was never taken out of the box — “definitely encouraged a risk-taking attitude, because you could fail and try again, and fail and try again,” Sharpe recalled in an interview at a woodland cafe near his North London home.In the two decades since college, Sharpe, now 38, has tried — and often succeeded at — a variety of creative projects, including writing, directing, acting, playing music and performing comedy. Claire Foy, whom Sharpe directed in the 2021 biopic “The Electrical Life of Louis Wain,” described him in an interview with The New York Times as “a Renaissance man” — “a kind one.”American audiences, though, know Sharpe best from his chameleonic run of recent acting gigs: the stoic tech hunk in Season 2 of HBO’s “The White Lotus”; the earnest tour guide in Jesse Eisenberg’s Oscar-winning movie “A Real Pain”; and now, as Felix, the enigmatic indie musician in the rom-com “Too Much,” Lena Dunham’s new Netflix series arriving on July 10.Will Sharpe and Megan Stalter in “Too Much,” a new show by Lena Dunham for Netflix.NetflixWe 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? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Squid Game’ Season 3 Recap: More Misery and a Surprise Cameo

    The final season of the Netflix hit brought the story to a largely predictable conclusion, with one last twist at the end.This article includes spoilers for all of the final season of “Squid Game.”The final season of Netflix’s international sensation “Squid Game” is officially labeled Season 3. But who are we kidding here? The six episodes that end this series feel very much like a continuation of the seven episodes that aired earlier this year as Season 2, covering the same characters, still in the middle of the same deadly tournament. Nothing new is introduced here in the “Squid Game” homestretch. The show’s writer and director, Hwang Dong-hyuk, just connects the last few dots. It’s no wonder then that Season 3 feels so dispiritingly rote.This new set of episodes begins with the show’s protagonist Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae) completely demoralized. In Season 1, he had survived a secret competition on a mysterious island — where the losers are killed and the ultimate winner takes home a fortune — for the entertainment of obscenely wealthy “V.I.P.s.” Shaken by the experience, Gi-hun in Season 2 tried to find and expose the tournament’s backers before deciding the only way to destroy the operation would be from the inside, by competing again.The season ended with a massive miscalculation by Gi-hun, as he attempted to lead some other players in an armed revolt against the games’ guards and bosses, unaware that one of his supposed allies, Hwang In-ho (Lee Byung-hun), was actually the operation’s manager — “the Front Man” — playing incognito in order to keep a close eye on him.At the same time, In-ho’s brother Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-jun) — a former police detective working with Gi-hun to end the games for good — kept searching for the island, unaware that the captain of the boat he chartered was in league with the Front Man and steering him far away from his target.It may not have been the best idea to return In-ho to his Front Man duties at the end of Season 2, separating him from the now-despondent Gi-hun. One of the most rewarding elements of Season 2 were the conversations between In-ho, a misanthropic cynic pretending to be a compassionate human being, and Gi-hun, a fierce idealist determined to prove to the games’ masters that people are not inherently greedy, selfish and shortsighted. With In-ho out of the game and Gi-hun deflated, Season 3 loses some juice right from the start.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? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    For South Koreans,‘Squid Game’ Was More Than Just Entertainment

    The Netflix hit has left a lasting legacy as a major cultural export, but also one that exposed some unsettling aspects of Korean society.Contains spoilers for Season 3 of “Squid Game.”On Friday, fans around the world tuned in for the third and last season of the juggernaut Netflix series “Squid Game.”Since 2021, they’ve watched as hundreds of contestants played deadly versions of children’s games in an attempt to win a cash prize of 45.6 billion won, around $33 million.At the grisly end of Season 3’s six episodes, its beloved protagonist Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), was dead, and its villains were very much alive and thriving.For some viewers in South Korea, where the show is set, that fell short of delivering the justice they were hoping for.After eagerly waiting half a year since the cliffhanger ending of Season 2, Kim Young Eun, a 24-year-old university student in Seoul, watched the entire season with her boyfriend at a comic book cafe, just hours after its release on Friday night.The Piggy Bank, where prize money is deposited each time a player dies on the show, was part of the fan event in Seoul on Saturday. Jun Michael Park for The New York TimesWe 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? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Stream These Movies and TV Shows Before They Leave Netflix in July

    A ton of great titles are leaving next month for U.S. subscribers, many of them very soon. Catch them while you can.Several beloved television series are leaving Netflix in the United States this month, so get your binges going. Also departing: an uproarious film version of a classic TV comedy, the prequel to an action movie favorite and the sensational hit movie about a doll and her friends.A ton of the titles this month are leaving on July 1, so we’ve rounded up those at the bottom. But as a result, the list will be a little tighter — and shorter lived — than usual. (Dates reflect the first day titles are unavailable and are subject to change.)‘Insecure’ Seasons 1-5 (July 3)Stream it here.The funny and talented Issa Rae broke out from niche online personality to mainstream juggernaut with this acclaimed and popular HBO comedy series, on which she was co-creator, showrunner and star. Her character (also named Issa) spends the series struggling with her unsatisfying career, continuing romantic woes and roller-coaster relationship with her longtime best friend, Molly (the endlessly entertaining Yvonne Orji). What could have easily been a Black “Sex and the City” is lent nuance, texture and richness by Rae and her writers’ deft intermingling of serious social, sexual and racial themes, turning this half-hour comedy into a pointed portrait of the American Black experience in the late Obama and early Trump eras.‘The Addams Family’ (July 5)Stream it here.Barry Sonnenfeld graduated from being one of the best cinematographers on the scene — he shot such distinctive and stylish efforts as “Raising Arizona” and “When Harry Met Sally” — to one of our quirkiest directors with this hit adaptation of the beloved ’60s television series, itself culled from the cult comic strips of Charles Addams. His whirling cameras, striking angles and rapid-fire pacing prove an ideal match for Addams’s weird world, but this isn’t just an exercise in aesthetics; the casting is the key to bringing these characters to life. Raul Julia and Anjelica Huston find the perfect mixture of cheerful darkness and playful romance as Gomez and Morticia Addams, Christopher Lloyd gives Uncle Fester a delightful innocence, and Christina Ricci found her breakthrough role as the deadpan daughter Wednesday.‘This Is Us’ Seasons 1-6 (July 8)Stream it here.When “This Is Us” debuted in 2016, The New York Times described it as “skillful, shameless tear jerking,” and that description was apt throughout its six-season run. Its creator, Dan Fogelman, borrows its setup from films like “Short Cuts” and “Magnolia”: interwoven stories of seemingly unrelated strangers, bound together by random chance (in this case, four characters who share a date of birth). The show isn’t exactly subtle — the tragedies and troubles come down like the sheets of rain that seems to accompany every emotional moment — but it delivers what it promises, and the stellar cast (including Sterling K. Brown, Justin Hartley, Chrissy Metz, Mandy Moore, Chris Sullivan and Milo Ventimiglia) elevates many of the cornier moments.‘Barbie’ (July 15)Stream it here.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? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Squid Game’ Season 3 Review: Game Over

    It’s time for Netflix’s global phenomenon to give up its final answers, if there are any.Contains spoilers for Season 2 of “Squid Game.”“Squid Game” is back for what is said to be its final round, with a six-episode third season on Netflix. If only all beneficiaries of free-floating, pandemic-boosted nihilism would fade away as quickly.The South Korean drama’s creator, writer and director, Hwang Dong-hyuk, had a couple of very profitable insights: that what was missing from “Survivor”-style competition shows was machine guns; and that greatly increasing the pool of contestants — the show’s dour hero, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), is No. 456 — would increase the amount of blood that could be shed while simultaneously giving most of the deaths an anesthetizing, video-game irrelevance.He then gave his package an Instagram-friendly visual wrapping of bright colors, gargantuan toylike structures and massed minimalist costumes, and replaced plot with a series of elaborate variations on children’s games. No candy was ever designed and marketed with greater effectiveness.But the series wasn’t strictly a consumer product, and it wasn’t a reality show. As a work of fiction, it needed to do something to surprise us to merit a second or third season (they are really 2A and 2B). Most television shows may be formulaic to one degree or another, but it is harder not to notice when the formulas you are repeating are ones that you just created.The last batch of episodes picks up halfway through a set of the games in which debt-ridden proletarians are killed, or kill one another, as they compete for an ever-increasing pot of cash, all for the entertainment of anonymous, hyper-rich spectators. The previous winner Gi-hun, whose attempts to halt the spectacle and unmask its ringleader have failed miserably, is battered but alive. Sixty players remain for the final three games.The proximity to a resolution of Gi-hun’s fate gives this season a tension (artificial as it may be) that the show’s second installment, released in December, lacked. Otherwise, it is “Squid Game” business as usual.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? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Squid Game’ Review: Game Over

    It’s time for Netflix’s global phenomenon to give up its final answers, if there are any.Contains spoilers for Season 2 of “Squid Game.”“Squid Game” is back for what is said to be its final round, with a six-episode third season on Netflix. If only all beneficiaries of free-floating, pandemic-boosted nihilism would fade away as quickly.The South Korean drama’s creator, writer and director, Hwang Dong-hyuk, had a couple of very profitable insights: that what was missing from “Survivor”-style competition shows was machine guns; and that greatly increasing the pool of contestants — the show’s dour hero, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), is No. 456 — would increase the amount of blood that could be shed while simultaneously giving most of the deaths an anesthetizing, video-game irrelevance.He then gave his package an Instagram-friendly visual wrapping of bright colors, gargantuan toylike structures and massed minimalist costumes, and replaced plot with a series of elaborate variations on children’s games. No candy was ever designed and marketed with greater effectiveness.But the series wasn’t strictly a consumer product, and it wasn’t a reality show. As a work of fiction, it needed to do something to surprise us to merit a second or third season (they are really 2A and 2B). Most television shows may be formulaic to one degree or another, but it is harder not to notice when the formulas you are repeating are ones that you just created.The last batch of episodes picks up halfway through a set of the games in which debt-ridden proletarians are killed, or kill one another, as they compete for an ever-increasing pot of cash, all for the entertainment of anonymous, hyper-rich spectators. The previous winner Gi-hun, whose attempts to halt the spectacle and unmask its ringleader have failed miserably, is battered but alive. Sixty players remain for the final three games.The proximity to a resolution of Gi-hun’s fate gives this season a tension (artificial as it may be) that the show’s second installment, released in December, lacked. Otherwise, it is “Squid Game” business as usual.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? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Baby Farm’ Is a Harrowing Nigerian Drama

    Inspired by the bleak, real-life phenomenon of Nigerian “baby factories,” the Netflix series nonetheless manages not to be a didactic, punishing slog.The five-part Nigerian thriller “Baby Farm,” on Netflix (in English and Nigerian Pidgin, with subtitles), follows a desperate young woman trapped in a sadistic maternity-care facility. Adanna (Onyinye Odokoro) finds herself pregnant, alone and broke in Lagos when a seemingly friendly sex worker ushers her into the welcoming arms of the Evans Foundation, a glam nongovernmental organization that claims to help women like her. Once there, the blond, British Sister Barb (Jenny Stead) really lays on the high-pressure sales tactics.Even though Adanna is uncomfortable, she agrees to move in. She is worried that living outside might damage her gestating baby, and she has nowhere else to turn. She can leave if she wants to, right? “Leave where, exactly?” replies Sister Barb.Adanna’s relief to have food and medical care is short-lived. She isn’t in a comfortable place for women to receive prenatal care; she is in a terrifying, abusive prison, run by Barb and her cartoonishly evil husband (Langley Kirkwood), the doctor and face of the organization. “You are here for one thing and one thing only: making babies,” he bellows. Once delivered, the babies are ripped from their mothers’ arms and sold to wealthy couples.The third prong here is Cherise (Rita Dominic), a Nigerian actress poised for a big break and international success. She and her husband are trying everything they can to have a baby, but nothing has worked. She regrets speaking so openly with the press about her miscarriages because now gossip bloggers hound her about it. Legal paths to adoption are off the table because of her husband’s arrest record, and her desperation and despair are so profound that she is willing to turn a blind eye to some of the sketchiness surrounding the Evans Foundation. She wants a baby through any means necessary.“Baby Farm” feels like a less-turgid “Handmaid’s Tale,” faster and soapier. The show moves between gutting, grounded moments and campy melodrama, which tempers the misery substantially. The topics at hand here are among the heaviest imaginable, and while this show is not based on a true story, Nigerian “baby factories” are real. But “Baby Farm” manages not to be a didactic, punishing slog. It is energetic, and even as its characters consider themselves utterly stuck, the story really moves. More

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    The Real Winner of ‘Squid Game’ Is Hwang Dong-hyuk

    “Squid Game,” the candy-colored South Korean series about a deadly competition, premiered on Netflix in 2021 and almost immediately became an international sensation. Hwang Dong-hyuk, who wrote and directed the series, could hardly believe it.“Literally, I pinched myself,” he said, gripping the skin of his cheek. “It was very surreal to me.”Hwang was speaking — sometimes in English, sometimes through an interpreter — earlier this month in the breakfast room of a luxury hotel in midtown Manhattan. The series was conceived in far shabbier locations.In 2009, having earned a master’s in film at the University of Southern California, he found himself back in South Korea, broke and demoralized. Spending his days huddled in cafes, reading grisly comic books and sliding deeper into debt, he began to dream up a story about a competition, based on popular children’s games, in which players would either solve all their money woes or die. No one would finance that nascent feature until nearly a decade later, when Netflix came calling.In its first season, “Squid Game” became the streamer’s most popular series ever, spawning think pieces, spinoffs, memes, bobblehead dolls. You could buy a “Squid Game” tracksuit, emblazoned with 456, the player number of the show’s protagonist, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae). You could participate in less lethal recreations of the games, with on-site snack bars and a gift shop. A capitalist satire had become a capitalist triumph.Lee Jung-jae as Gi-hun in the final season. “The sense of crisis that weighs heavily on people’s daily lives, it allows anyone to easily relate to Gi-hun,” Hwang said.No Ju-han/NetflixWe 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? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More