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      ‘The Diplomat’ Review: Save the Marriage, Save the World

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      Keri Russell stars in a Netflix political thriller that doubles as a high-style romantic comedy.Debora Cahn most recently served as an executive producer and writer on “Homeland.” Keri Russell most famously played a hyper-efficient assassin on “The Americans.” Their collaboration in the new Netflix series “The Diplomat” — Cahn created it, Russell stars — would lead you to expect something dark, violent and complicated.But a look further back in Cahn’s history shows that she started her career with a long run as a writer and producer on “The West Wing.” And that’s the spirit she’s brought to “The Diplomat,” a political thriller laced with romance and written, with some success, in an Aaron Sorkinesque high-comic, high-velocity style.So you would be right about complicated, at least. Geopolitical crises and amorous complications are thick on the ground, intertwining and constantly morphing in ways that can be hard to follow. (The serial twists and breathless explanations both contribute to and help to obscure the plot-greasing implausibilities necessary for a show that puts earthshaking events in a comic framework.)Russell plays Kate Wyler, a career American diplomat suddenly and surprisingly named ambassador to Britain. She arrives in London with her trailing spouse, Hal (Rufus Sewell), a more experienced and renowned diplomat who is now expected to smile for the cameras but otherwise keep his mouth shut. For them, artifice is an essential element in both statecraft and marriage.Kate and Hal’s union is on its last legs, as it turns out. But thanks to an improbable, possibly MacGuffinish twist, it is mandatory that they stay together. So one pole of the plot is their highly cultivated Bickersons act, a will-they-or-won’t-they screwball anti-romance between an unforgiving woman and a roguish, egomaniacal man; you may see ghostly images of Carole Lombard and John Barrymore. At the same time, Hal, along with Kate’s fiercely competent deputy, Stuart (Ato Essandoh), is tasked with turning the combative Kate into a more refined diplomat, an arduous process with echoes of “My Fair Lady” and “Kiss Me, Kate.”The rom-com complications — they also encompass Kate’s attraction to the British foreign minister (David Gyasi) and a classic secondary romance between Stuart and the C.I.A. station chief (Ali Ahn) — and the political machinations bounce off and intensify one another, in the old “West Wing” style. An attack on a British warship in the Middle East starts an eight-episode chain of events involving Iran and Russia that has Kate shuttling between the American president (Michael McKean) and the British prime minister (Rory Kinnear, who stands out in an excellent cast) and, with Hal’s help, salvaging U.S.-U.K. relations while pretty much literally saving the world.“The Diplomat” is concerned with the dynamics of the international order, the proper balance between idealism and realpolitik, and the fallout of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, but it’s essentially a show about a marriage. The conceit of Kate as the undiplomatic diplomat — a woman whose stone-cold, steel-trap strategic abilities would be considered suitable for the Court of St. James’s — is, to put it kindly, absurd, but its main purpose is to set up the contrast with the smoother, more devious, more obviously diplomatic Hal.And you can see how Russell’s coldblooded excellence in “The Americans” would recommend her for the part of Kate. (In an amusing nod to Russell’s long run as the murderous Elizabeth Jennings, Kate is asked whether she poisoned a fellow diplomat and deadpans, “Not my style.”) But while she’s perfectly proficient, and has no trouble conveying the character’s intelligence and, when called for, her uncertainty or anger, Russell is not as funny as the show needs her to be. Relaxing into the role and giving the emotional connections the casual, spontaneous feel that the rom-com structure calls for are not her strengths.Luckily for “The Diplomat,” Sewell has no trouble getting in touch with his inner Barrymore, and he walks away with the show. Hal is petulant, childish and arrogant, but he’s smart and charming enough to get away with it, and Sewell both embodies the charm and shows us the flashes of doubt and nobility that redeem him. Making an over-scaled, too-good-to-be-true romantic construction like Hal feel absolutely real is a trick right up there with saving the world from global war. More

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      In ‘The Diplomat,’ Keri Russell Shows Her Good Side

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      The actor’s first substantial TV role since the Soviet spy drama “The Americans” finds her switching sides, starring as a savvy civil servant tasked with upholding America’s reputation abroad.On a recent Thursday afternoon, the actress Keri Russell paused in a corner of Brooklyn Bridge Park to admire a starling.It was technically spring, though the weather had other ideas, and Russell, in subdued plumage, braved the wind in chunky boots and a black puffer jacket. Her hair was tousled. Liner ringed each eye, possibly a souvenir from the previous night’s too many margaritas with friends. She didn’t look much like a woman who devoted years of her life to undermining the American democratic project. Or like a woman now charged with safeguarding it.But Russell has been both of those women (and a lot of other women besides). At this point in her career, she is probably best known for her six seasons on the FX drama “The Americans” as Elizabeth Jennings, a Soviet sleeper agent with an ambitious collection of ruses and wigs who earned Russell three Emmy nominations. Now Russell has taken on an opposing role: In the “The Diplomat,” a Netflix series debuting on Thursday, she stars as Kate Wyler, a savvy U.S. civil servant tasked with upholding America’s reputation abroad.A veteran ambassador, Kate is about to take a post in Kabul when an international incident shunts her and her husband, Hal (Rufus Sewell), to London. An English manor house is not a war zone, but Kate behaves otherwise. Armored in punishing heels and sleek sheath dresses, she treats even polite conversation as battlefield maneuvers. But in a departure from “The Americans,” Kate’s work is almost entirely aboveboard. She wears no wigs.As some Canada geese waddled nearby, Russell considered the disparities between these two roles. “It was fun being a baddie, doing sneaky stuff,” she said. But “The Diplomat” also has its pleasures, she insisted. “It’s awesome to be smart and capable and dress people down and be so steady about it,” she said.If Elizabeth is a baddie, does that make Kate a goody? Russell gave a cagey smile. “We’ll see,” she said.In “The Diplomat,” Russell plays a veteran ambassador who is about to take a post in Kabul when an international incident shunts her and her husband, Hal (Rufus Sewell), to London. Alex Bailey/NetflixRussell began her career as a teenage dancer in “The Mickey Mouse Club” and then starred in “Felicity” as a capricious college student and the patron saint of dithery girls everywhere. She did not necessarily expect to spend her midcareer playing hypercompetent women while also showing the uncertainty that undergirds that competence. In addition to playing Elizabeth and Kate, she has also recently appeared as an indomitable mother in the horror comedy “Cocaine Bear” and as a cool, if not especially effective, assassin in “Extrapolations.”Felicity would not have excelled at either espionage or high-stakes diplomacy. “Felicity would write a poem about it,” Russell said. But that was 20 years ago. Russell, who in person is outspoken, unfussy, charmingly profane and so candid that she encourages similar candor in others and now absolutely has kompromat on me, has grown up. She has since become a mother. She has two children with her former husband, Shane Deary, and a young son with her partner Matthew Rhys, her co-star on “The Americans.”“Moms are like that!” she said of these recent capable characters. “You’re going to make it happen. A mom can do 37 things in one day!”Russell comes to this park, near the home that she shares with Rhys and her children, on the rare occasions when she has an early morning to herself. Sometimes, before anyone else is awake, she’ll ride her bike through the park’s loops. “It’s a beautiful, happening place,” she said, pointing out the roller rink, the basketball courts, a meadow, the indelible view of Manhattan across the East River.Over the last year or so, those mornings have been rarer. It was during the Christmas holiday of 2021, when Russell had volunteered to cook dinner for the children’s three sets of grandparents, that she received the scripts for “The Diplomat.” With Rhys already away for part of the year filming the gloomy HBO revival of “Perry Mason”—“I was already punishing him with guilt for not being home,” she said — she wasn’t looking for another starring role.Russell has played several indomitable mothers, including in the horror comedy “Cocaine Bear.”Universal PicturesStill, something in Kate’s ambition and savvy, as well as the humor of her marital tussles with Hal, called to her. She agreed to a video call with the show’s creator, Debora Cahn, a veteran of “Homeland” and “The West Wing.”Cahn had wanted Russell for the role, trusting that Kate would benefit from Russell’s beauty, grace and ability to convey emotions even in characters who control and repress their feelings. But Kate was a more neurotic proposition than past Russell characters — gorgeous enough to be the subject of a Vogue spread in the show but also sweaty, squirrelly, with a lot of angst behind the poise.“There’s a part of Kate that is itchy and twitchy and always uncomfortable in her own skin,” Cahn said in a recent phone interview.Russell was a woman of far more poise, Cahn assumed, but she knew that Russell was also a skilled actor. She could perform that discomfort. And yet, as she watched Russell squirm through the video call, she discovered that discomfort was part of the Russell package, too.“I get really nervous,” Russell confirmed in the park. “I do really sweat a lot.” (She didn’t seem to be sweating here, though it was quite cold.)This contradiction — glamour in the front, social anxiety in the back — helped Cahn explore the thesis of “The Diplomat,” which is that everybody sweats, even (or especially) the bodies in power.“In Buckingham Palace, in the Great Hall of the People, everybody in there is still a leaky human,” Cahn said.Kate, on the show, puts it more tartly. “You show people the nice parts because, believe me, that’s all that anyone wants to see,” she says.The effort that Kate makes to maintain a flawless veneer resonated with Russell, though largely because she has never had much patience with or talent for the public-facing aspects of her profession — the interviews, the award shows, the times when she has to perform a more idealized version of herself. She used to beat herself up for this unease, but she has since accepted it.“I’m like, that’s who I am,” she said.“I like to never be busy,” Russell said, despite recent evidence to the contrary. “I like to like drift away and roam the park.”Celeste Sloman for The New York TimesAnd yet, sets are places where she has always felt at home. “The Diplomat” filmed last summer, mostly in London and mostly on location. Sewell had never met Russell, his work wife, until they were both in the hair and makeup trailer, but he was struck by her openness and ease.“She immediately was very friendly and personable and easy,” he said. “I automatically thought it was going to be relatively straightforward working with her, because she was a lot of fun.”Fun is not necessarily a word that anyone would apply to Kate or that Kate would apply to herself. However sweaty Russell feels herself to be, she moves through the world, or at least through the park, with less strain and tension. (And she is fun. At one point, she pulled out her phone and showed a picture of herself looking unhinged in an ash-blond wig, an outtake from “The Americans.” She sends the picture to her friends when it’s time to party. “We don’t let her have chardonnay anymore,” she said of the image.)While Kate is a creature of ambition, Russell has always held her work more lightly, even as she pushes herself to give vivid, committed performances.“When I’m there, I work hard,” she said. “I want to be good.” But she drew a distinction between herself and Rhys, even though they take on many of the same projects. (He is in “Extrapolations” and “Cocaine Bear,” too.)“He likes to be busy,” she said. “I like to never be busy. I like to like drift away and roam the park.”She was near the river now. The sun turned the gray water gold. Ducks dabbled. Unlike Kate, no one needed her to save the world today or to sweat through her clothes while neutralizing some new crisis. Hypercompetence could wait. She needed only to find her way back through the park and text Rhys to see if he could meet her at an Italian restaurant close by. Among the 37 things, there was just time for a beer before school pickup. More

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      Inside the Pods With ‘Love Is Blind,’ the Reality TV Juggernaut

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      SANTA CLARITA, Calif. — Peahens choose peacocks with more elaborate feathers, earthworms mate based on size, and baboons judge on hierarchy, but humans, as more intellectually evolved creatures, have been socialized instead to seek out love.For a tiny subset of the species, this mating ritual involves 10 days on a television set in Greater Los Angeles, where participants sit alone in 12-by-14-foot rooms listening to the disembodied voices of potential mates discuss such topics as their ideal number of offspring.That is the basis for “Love Is Blind,” the voyeuristic Netflix reality series built around buzzwords, booze and mild sensory deprivation that is set to release its Season 4 finale on Friday and air a live reunion special on Sunday. On the show, 30 singles sign up to date each other, separated inside these rooms — known as “pods” — with their conversations fed through speakers. They don’t see whom they’re talking to until they decide to get engaged — a commitment that also comes with a hastily arranged wedding where they can say “I do” or walk away.Pods are set up to film, hydrate and intoxicate contestants.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesIf it all sounds rushed, chaotic, a bit unhinged, the show’s creator, Chris Coelen, understands. Brandon Riegg, the Netflix executive who greenlighted the pitch about five years ago, described the idea with a synonym for bat guano, and he recalled telling Coelen that he would be lucky to get even one couple out of it.Despite the naysayers, Coelen felt confident that people would get engaged. After all, contestants on his show “Married at First Sight” had been marrying strangers for years.“People want to find love,” he said in an interview last month on the “Love Is Blind” set, where production was beginning on a new season, “and they’re willing to do some pretty wild things to find it.”The show premiered in February 2020, taking off as viewers were adjusting to their own versions of pandemic-mandated pod life, and has continued to captivate audiences. More than 30 million Netflix subscribers watched during the first four weeks after its premiere, the company reported, and Season 4, which kicked off in March, topped the previous seasons’ opening weekends by hours watched. Last year, according to Nielsen, “Love Is Blind” was the eighth most-watched original streaming series in the United States, ahead of “The Crown” and the “Lord of the Rings” spinoff “The Rings of Power.” Versions of the show based in Japan and Brazil have already been released, with U.K. and Swedish adaptations in the works.Kim Kardashian, Lizzo, Billie Eilish and Daniel Radcliffe are among the show’s celebrity fans, and contestants have built gigantic social media followings, with one married participant from Season 1, Lauren Speed-Hamilton, reaching 2.5 million followers on Instagram. The series has also fueled cottage industries on TikTok of amateur detectives digging into the contestants’ back stories and of therapists analyzing the relationship dynamics onscreen. At times, “Love Is Blind” has prompted musings on our fraying social fabric, with commentators declaring that the show “speaks to the state of modern romance” and “holds a mirror to a reality we’d rather ignore.”Shake Chatterjee, one of the contestants in the second season of “Love Is Blind.”Patrick Wymore/NetflixContestants don’t meet in person until they have gotten engaged.NetflixFor Netflix, its appeal was more fundamental. It matched the streamer’s ethos around unscripted programming, Riegg said: relatable and optimistic.“If you look at some of the most beloved and established unscripted franchises, they’ve been running for a very long time,” he added. “And I don’t think there’s any reason that ours can’t do the same.”‘Whatever happens, happens.’So how did “Love Is Blind,” with its absurd conceit, manage to position itself as the closest thing to “The Bachelor” for the cable-less generation?Coelen said it’s because the show puts it all out there, revealing contestants’ explosive dramatics and romantic indifference without coaxing anything out of them.Producers have included footage of one participant, Andrew Liu, appearing to apply eye drops to simulate tears for the camera after he was dumped in Season 3. One couple in the current season had enough of each other and split before they got to the altar. And when Shake Chatterjee, from Season 2, tried to suss out what his dates looked like by asking if he could feasibly carry them on his shoulders, the producers said they never considered intervening.The hosts are a married couple, Vanessa and Nick Lachey — the latter of whom was the subject of his own early-aughts reality series when he married Jessica Simpson. They rarely interact with participants, occasionally dropping in during the season and serving as therapist-like mediators during the reunions.“We just watch. We involve ourselves in nothing,” said Ally Simpson (no relation to Jessica), one of the show’s executive producers. During production, she sits next to Coelen in the control room, where they monitor as many as 10 dates happening simultaneously.Chris Coelen and Ally Simpson working behind the scenes. “We involve ourselves in nothing,” Simpson said.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesBut the concept of authenticity gets complicated when the location for the dates is a 68,000-square-foot studio next to an Amazon warehouse, where dozens of crew members zip around with walkie talkies and 81 cameras pan and zoom to catch every blush and giggle. (Contestants stay in hotels overnight, though the napping and cooking can sometimes make it appear as though they’re living on set à la “The Real World.”)Inside the two single-sex lounges where the singles congregate, the plants are plastic, a digital fire roars onscreen, and those metallic goblets that have become the show’s mascots are adhered to the shelves so that guests don’t knock them over.When Kwame Appiah, a tech worker who appears on the current season, says of a woman he has never seen, “I’ve just been smitten for a really long time,” he means six days.Then there’s the influencer industrial complex. In the three years since the show’s debut, cast members with new followings have promoted Smirnoff Spicy Tamarind vodka, Bud Light hard seltzer and Fenty lipstick, as well as yogurt and laxatives.When it comes to choosing a cast, the producers say they try to weed out those seeking social media fame or joining on a whim, but if such types slip into the roster, Coelen said, he believes they still tend to become invested in the process.“We build the machinery, and whatever happens, happens,” he said.A crew member affixes goblets to a shelf with mounting tape.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesThe contents of the fridge in the “men’s lounge.”Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesThe machinery starts with Donna Driscoll, the show’s head of casting, who has been with Coelen’s production company, Kinetic Content, since the second season of “Married at First Sight.” Interested singles apply online, but Driscoll’s team also seeks people out on social media and at bars, grocery stores and church groups.A third-party company conducts background checks and psychological evaluations, and the casting team creates what are called “compatibility grids,” a spreadsheet listing key characteristics, including the desire to have children. They are effectively trying to “stack the deck,” Coelen said, so that each person comes in with some compatibility, at least on paper, with others. (If love really is blind, it is also heavily vetted.)On the show, the contestants describe being at their wits’ end with dating norms of the 2020s, which tend to involve more swiping on touchscreens than IRL spontaneity.“My parents are like, ‘Why don’t you just go meet a guy at a bar?” said Chelsea Griffin, a speech-language pathologist from Seattle who is on the current season. “Who does that anymore?”Instead, with her phone confiscated, she met a guy at a production facility where a maze of dark hallways leads to pods and to a room where contestants sit for one-on-one interviews with a blurred backdrop positioned behind them.Coelen in the show’s control room.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesA camera inside the wall of one of the pods.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesAt the start of filming, budding romances begin with 10-minute speed dates, lengthening each day until the most lovestruck couples chat for hours, sometimes lingering until 3 a.m.“The rate at which you go in this experience, it’s hard for my mom to fathom. It’s hard for my brother to fathom,” Griffin said. “I could sit and try to articulate and explain the entire thing, and people still wouldn’t get it.”Members of the production team listen on headsets, logging moments like when someone says “I love you” or tears flow. They move contestant headshots around a bulletin board as they pair off and break up, like detectives on a crime procedural.At the end of the day, the contestants rank their dates on paper. The team then uses a variation on a Nobel Prize-winning algorithm, created by two mathematicians in the 1960s, to find a dating schedule in which everyone has matches. For the first four seasons, Simpson and Coelen organized the data by hand to determine the next day’s lineup of dates, but more recently, Simpson plugs the rankings into computer software.By day seven, the men are able to pick out engagement rings provided by the show. By day nine, after couples have typically spent about 30 total hours dating — albeit in separate rooms — some of them pop the question. If the answer is a yes, they finally meet.Then, it’s time to plan the wedding. Singles have been choosing among suitors they couldn’t see as far back as the 1960s (see “The Dating Game”), but “Love Is Blind” makes marriage its clear, televised conclusion.“You think about reality shows as being these zany, deviant enterprises, but when it comes right down to it, they promulgate some of our most conservative values,” said Danielle Lindemann, a sociologist who wrote a book about reality television. “Ultimately, this show is about heterosexual coupling that ends in marriage.”The lounge where male contestants gather between dates. On the show, contestants often describe being at their wits’ end with the norms of dating in the 2020s.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesSuccess, and scrutinyThe inherent limits of the show have opened it to critique. Though “Love Is Blind” might be more diverse than some reality shows in terms of race and body type, those selected for the “experiment” tend to be conventionally attractive heterosexual men and women in their 20s and 30s.Speed-Hamilton, who has gone on to co-host a podcast for Netflix about its reality series, accused the show last season of “cutting all the Black women” after the pods portion, adding that most of the couples seemed “forced” and only established “for entertainment purposes.”There have been other musings that this season of the show is falling into typical reality TV traps, zooming in on “mean girl” drama and casting people whose true intentions some viewers question. There have also been suggestions that the show has edited footage to ramp up the drama. Jackelina Bonds, a dental assistant from this season, wrote on Instagram that footage had been reordered so that it appears she went on a date before she broke up with her fiancé, when in fact, the date was afterward.Coelen said the production team works to portray the “accurate essence of each person’s journey.” He said the show focuses on building a diverse pool of participants from the start and chooses to follow the engagements that seem most genuine. Any “mean girl” behavior happened without their influence, he said.One of the most vocal skeptics of the show’s authenticity has been a former contestant, Jeremy Hartwell, who was not closely followed during his season. He filed a class-action lawsuit last year against Netflix and Kinetic Content, saying that the defendants cut off the cast from the outside world, plied them with unlimited alcohol and withheld food and sleep with the objective of leading the cast to make “manipulated decisions for the benefit of the show’s entertainment value.”Female and male contestants are kept separate throughout much of the filming of “Love Is Blind.”Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesThe crux of the lawsuit was an objection to the show’s payment structure at the time, which, the complaint said, involved a $1,000 stipend per filming week with a maximum of $8,000 in possible earnings. His lawsuit argued that the participants had been “willfully misclassified” as independent contractors rather than as employees who were entitled to minimum wage, overtime pay and various labor protections.Chantal McCoy Payton, a lawyer for Hartwell, declined to comment, citing the continuing litigation.Lawyers for Kinetic Content, which has said that the claims are without merit, asserted in court documents that Hartwell had been part of the show for only six days and did not qualify as an employee. Netflix lawyers argued that Hartwell had brought forward “extreme allegations” because he was “upset” about not being chosen by another contestant.Coelen declined to discuss the lawsuit, but his description of the show’s process was at odds with Hartwell’s claims.Daters are provided meals and can order food to the pods, he said, and while the alcohol supply is ample (the fridge in the lounge is stocked with champagne, beer, wine and hard seltzer), everyone decides for themselves whether they want to drink. There are two psychologists on the set, he noted, and the show offers to cover postproduction therapy for participants.Although the producers say they don’t interfere in relationships, Coelen, who is 54 and has been married for 16 years, said that they do suggest that the couples talk about important subjects like finances, parenting and religion, comparing the producers’ level of influence to Pre-Cana, a course for couples preparing to be married by the Roman Catholic Church. For instance, in Season 1, production team members encouraged one participant, Amber Pike, to tell her fiancé, Matt Barnett, that she had about $20,000 in student debt. The conversation did not go particularly well, but the pair got married anyway.“We really get invested in these relationships,” said Simpson, 45, who has been married for six years.Inside the single-sex lounges where the singles congregate, the plants are plastic and a digital fire roars onscreen.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesMembers of the production team listen to the contestants on headsets, logging moments like when someone says “I love you” or when tears flow.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesCoelen has tried to sell similarly gimmicky dating shows before. In 2017, his production company released an American version of a show called “Kiss Bang Love” in which singles met each other by kissing blindfolded. In “The Spouse House,” 14 singles bent on marriage moved in together. Both shows lasted only one season.With “Love Is Blind,” the numbers are starting to add up. From the first three seasons of the show, 17 couples came out of the pods engaged, six got legally married on the show, and four are still together.In an interview last month, Brett Brown, a design director at Nike whose marital fate will be unveiled Friday, said it is those early successes that keep viewers watching, curious to find out if this bizarre dating formula can spit out happy couples.Brown acknowledged that some participants might exaggerate their feelings in exchange for the global attention that comes with being a reality TV star.But not him.“I can only speak from my experience,” he said, “and I know that I was there for the right reason.”Susan Beachy contributed research. More

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      ‘Beef’ Review: Mad in America

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      A thrilling dark comedy explores the complexity of anger, through a road-rage feud between two drivers who are more alike than it seems.“I’m so sick of smiling,” says Danny Cho (Steven Yeun) in the first episode of Netflix’s “Beef.” You may have noticed that he’s not alone in this. Blame it on the pandemic, the culture, the economy, but people are mad right now, on planes and on trains and — like Danny and his car-crossed antagonist, Amy Lau (Ali Wong) — in automobiles.“Beef,” a dark comedy about a road-rage incident that careers disastrously off-road, has good timing, but that’s not enough to make a great TV series. What makes this one of the most invigorating, surprising and insightful debuts of the past year is how personally and culturally specific its study of anger is. Every unhappy person in it is unhappy in a different and fascinating way.Amy and Danny’s high-speed chase through suburban Los Angeles, following a run-in at a big-box-store parking lot, sets the tone for all 10 episodes (which arrive on Thursday). The show floors the accelerator with heedless gusto, racing a course of revenge, subterfuge and terrible decisions.But what gives “Beef” its interest is its attention to the motivations that brought the pair to that parking lot in the first place.Danny, a hard-working, hapless contractor saving to build a house for his Korean parents, is trying to return merchandise while fretting over his family and finances. Amy, an entrepreneur who married into art-world money, is trying to sell her small business to the big store’s owner, a deal she hopes will finally allow her to exhale after years of pressure. Each is this close to breaking, and each, after their near fender-bender, ends up being the other’s last straw.It is easy to see how this could have become a cynical class-war story: His working-class struggle vs. her upscale ennui, his pickup vs. her Mercedes. Instead the creator, Lee Sung Jin (“Dave”), couples a raucous story with a generous spin on the truism that the biggest jerk you meet is fighting battles you know nothing about.Danny’s problems are more existential and dire: He is the hard-working son who has taken his family on his back, including not only his parents but also his crypto-bro younger brother (Young Mazino) and his ex-convict cousin (a volatile David Choe), who become dangerously entangled in his payback schemes. It’s not just cash that he lacks; he feels an emptiness, which he tries to fill by stress-eating Burger King chicken sandwiches and by joining a rock-gospel church, an intriguing if underdeveloped subplot.Steven Yeun in “Beef.” Most of the major characters are shaped by their family and upbringing.NetflixAmy has a cushier living situation, but her stressors are not so different. She smiles through endless microaggressions from Jordan (Maria Bello), her business’s rich white potential buyer, and the intrusions of her wealthy mother-in law (Patti Yasutake). Her husband, George (Joseph Lee), has the sweet but irritating chill of privilege. She keeps a gun (paging Mr. Chekhov) in a home safe, a seeming symbol of Amy herself — a sleek container that keeps something dangerous locked away.As their battle escalates, Amy and Danny become enmeshed in each other’s lives, and their similarities become clearer. “Beef” develops into something of a love story, except about hate. You’d expect Yeun (“Minari,” “The Walking Dead”) to excel in the show’s drama and the comedian Wong (“Tuca & Bertie”) to nail the humor, but they do the reverse just as well. Wong especially taps the tension behind Amy’s exquisite octagonal glasses, the pressure to provide and be perfect — she’s like Rachel Fleishman with a gun instead of yoga.That nearly all of the major characters in “Beef” are Asian is both a casual fact of the setting and integral to its themes. These are characters given less social permission for anger in America, in part because of “model minority” stereotypes of docility. (“You have this serene Zen Buddhist thing going on,” Jordan tells Amy.)But they’re also shaped by their family and upbringing. Amy describes learning to repress her emotions from her father — “Chinese guy from the Midwest, I mean, communication wasn’t his forte” — and her mother, a Vietnamese immigrant who “thought talking about your feelings was the same thing as complaining.”As philosophy, self-help and “Star Wars” have taught us, anger is a destructive emotion. “Beef” provides ample evidence of this, in the cascade of escalations that builds to a climax so weird and explosive that it defies spoiling. And the personal war brings out the best in neither Amy, who insults Danny as “poor,” nor Danny, who calls Amy “some rich bitch from Calabasas.”But “Beef” also pushes past easy cant to explore the idea that anger — even petty, stupid anger — can be liberating. At the end of the first episode, Amy and Danny meet face to face, and it does not end well; she winds up chasing him down the street on foot. He, despite having bought himself trouble he can’t afford, wears a wide, childlike smile. She, planning her next countermove, relaxes into a tiny grin.It’s the first lightness you see on either of their faces. Their dispute will prove to be the worst thing that has happened to either of them, but in the moment, it is also the best. They fight not just out of pride but also out of their seeming belief that their rage might somehow make everything right.Among the motifs that Lee Sung Jin weaves through “Beef” is hunger. Danny has his Burger King addiction — he eats like it’s his job, straining and puffing — while Amy has a sweet tooth, a legacy of her depressed childhood, that she has passed on to her daughter. Which brings us back to this weird, remarkable show’s title.Colloquially, “Beef” means “feud.” But this series shows you how anger can also, for some people, be meat. It fills an emptiness, it sustains, it momentarily satisfies — even if, in excess, it’s terrible for your heart. More

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      Netflix’s Approach Shifts, Pushing Content That Can ‘Pop’

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      The streaming service long thought spending on ads didn’t result in more viewers. That has subtly changed under the marketing chief Marian Lee.Netflix made sure viewers had ample opportunity to hear about “Wednesday,” its macabre hit starring Jenna Ortega.They could come across it in an airport security line when plopping their belongings into a tray that asked “What would Wednesday do?” Or see the title character in the Uber app when they ordered a ride. Or they could encounter it on TikTok, where seemingly everyone from Ukrainian soldiers to hip grannies were performing the title character’s arm-jolting, addictive dance set to the Lady Gaga song “Bloody Mary.”Either way, the marketing resources Netflix dedicated to the show helped to make it a global sensation. The push included Netflix shifting its social media resources from sites like Twitter and Instagram to TikTok after the amateur dance videos went viral. There was also a campaign in which local markets around the world adapted the slogan “What would Wednesday do?” to their country’s taste and culture. (Billboards in Los Angeles cheekily stated: “I read your screenplay. It’s time to rethink your writing career.”)The streaming service said the show’s eight episodes were viewed 1.24 billion hours in the first 28 days they were available, making it the second most-watched English-language series on the service, just behind the fourth season of “Stranger Things.”For the movie “Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery,” there was a widely publicized (including TV commercials) one-week theatrical release on Thanksgiving that generated a reported $15 million in ticket sales. After that, a Los Angeles-based escape room and a handful of murder mystery dinners across the country — and more commercials — helped to keep the word of mouth alive until the expensive star-studded sequel debuted on the service at Christmas time. It racked up 279.7 million hours watched in the first 28 days, which Netflix said made it the fourth most-watched English-language film on the service.“Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery” received a one-week theatrical release at Thanksgiving and became available on Netflix at Christmas time.John Wilson/NetflixNetflix’s marketing tactics are indicative of an evolving strategy for a company that is facing a much more competitive streaming marketplace — and trying to serve an increasingly fickle audience. The new tactics also come as Netflix has introduced an advertising tier and is cracking down on password sharing as it contends with a maturing U.S. market. It has also essentially replaced its original creative team, opting for executives with broader tastes to serve a global marketplace. To sell this evolution of the world’s largest streaming service, the company is relying on Marian Lee, its third chief marketing officer in three years.“I’m trying to enable creativity, because I want to bring all of this content to more people around the world,” Ms. Lee said in an interview at Netflix’s headquarters in Los Angeles. “I also want the rest of Netflix to understand what the marketing strategy is: We support the content organization.”She spent the previous night staying up late to finish the reality show “Full Swing,” saying she cried in her bathroom when it was over.“I’m watching everything, and I’m going to tell you where I think this is really going to pop,” she said.For all of Netflix’s success over the years, the company has never quite found its footing in marketing. That is primarily because of the company’s core tenet is that the streaming service itself is its greatest marketer, and spending on expensive commercials or advertisements does not always improve viewer engagement. In 2019, the marketing operation moved under Ted Sarandos, who was then the head of content and is now the company’s co-chief executive. He hired Jackie Lee-Joe from BBC Studios to be chief marketing officer. She departed after just 10 months, when Mr. Sarandos surprised many inside Netflix by appointing Bozoma Saint John as the new C.M.O. Ms. Saint John used her formidable social media presence — she has 424,000 followers on Instagram — to host her own lifestyle events under the moniker @badassboz while running the Netflix marketing team, but her impact on Netflix’s shows and movies proved less fruitful.Ms. Lee was the global co-head of music at Spotify when she was hired by Ms. Saint John in July 2021. She was promoted to chief marketing officer in March 2022 after Ms. Saint John left. In contrast with her predecessor, Ms. Lee’s Instagram account is private, and when she was offered Ms. Saint John’s office, she declined, opting to remain in the one she occupied that was closer to her staff.“Wednesday,” starring Jenna Ortega, was marketed heavily through TikTok.Vlad Cioplea/NetflixNetflix’s marketing budget has remained fairly consistent, increasing to $2.5 billion in 2022 from $2.2 billion in 2020. But Ms. Lee’s 400-plus global team has enacted a subtle change in strategy, in which many of those dollars have been shifted to focus on individual titles as opposed to the branding of the streaming service itself.Still, the amount of money set aside for marketing remains relatively small, considering Netflix spends $17 billion a year on its programming. And when filmmakers and showrunners grouse about working with Netflix, the complaints are often aimed at the marketing department, which they feel can be limited by its budget. It is an issue traditional studios have tried to capitalize on, arguing that they may pay less upfront for a project but that they will spend more in marketing to let people know when it’s coming out.“The legacy studios spend more on marketing,” said Tripp Vinson, a producer of the Netflix “Murder Mystery” films starring Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston. The first movie came out in 2019 and the second became available to Netflix subscribers on Friday. “But as a producer, what do I care about? You’re implying that the more you spend, the greater chance you have of getting your audience in that legacy, traditional marketing way. Well, I know from ‘Murder Mystery’ 1, whatever Netflix did to market this movie, the amount of viewers that I got, that’s what I care about. And they were astounding numbers.”For “Murder Mystery 2,” the streaming service added a second premiere at the Eiffel Tower in Paris, international billboards and commercials during the National Football League’s divisional playoffs. It also partnered with the social media star Mr. Beast to offer an unwitting couple a surprise trip to the Paris premiere. The first movie landed back on Netflix’s Top 10 list a week ahead of the release, and expectations inside the company for the sequel are high.Netflix’s chief content officer, Bela Bajaria, pushes against the notion that the company had not aggressively marketed specific shows and movies in the past.“I think the tension may be with people feeling like there is only the traditional way to do it, and they don’t realize we market in so many different ways,” she said, noting the service’s social media channels reach 800 million people globally.Netflix held a premiere event for “Murder Mystery 2” at the Eiffel Tower in Paris.Scott Yamano/NetflixFilmmakers, though, have noticed a difference with Ms. Lee.“Right when she arrived, she came down to see what we were doing and visited the set often,” said Debbie Snyder, a producer of the $80 million sci-fi spectacle “Rebel Moon,” which is directed by her husband, Zack Snyder.The plan is for the film, scheduled to debut on Dec. 22, to be the first in a trilogy.Did Ms. Snyder receive the same personalized attention when the film “Army of the Dead” debuted in 2021? “No,” she said. “Not really at all.”Netflix’s film chairman, Scott Stuber, said the marketing department under Ms. Lee was more in tune with the content side of the company. He noted that he was particularly impressed by her nimble approach, like her ability to maintain buzz for “Glass Onion” after its theatrical release.“I like someone who actually knows the old playbook, but also is very interested in how to rewrite the rules for the new playbook,” he said.“I’m trying to enable creativity, because I want to bring all of this content to more people around the world,” Ms. Lee said.Philip Cheung for The New York TimesIn February, members of Ms. Lee’s brand marketing team crammed themselves into a conference room to discuss, among other topics, “The Marquee,” a handful of high-tech billboards with pithy messages that rotate weekly and appear in strategic locations around the world like Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles, Times Square in New York and Les Halles in Paris. She listened intently to the presentation: The board at the Trevi Fountain will be moved to a different location in Rome, one that is less of a tourist spot and more of a place where local Netflix subscribers could connect with it; Times Square is going to get an innovative new billboard that is easier to program yet looks like the physical one on Sunset Boulevard. A marquee is coming soon to Warsaw.“The point of the board is to have fun, be edgy and push all the way to the edge,” she said.“I know it’s a lot of pressure because they have to come up with a new message every week,” she added, “but if they’re just using it for something lame, I’d rather not do it.” More

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      in Television

      In ‘Beef,’ Road Rage Is Only the Beginning

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      LOS ANGELES — In the upcoming Netflix series “Beef,” Steven Yeun plays Danny Cho, a struggling handyman in Los Angeles who becomes embroiled in a road rage incident with Amy Lau, a wealthy entrepreneur played by Ali Wong. Over 10 episodes, their simmering hatred fuels an escalating series of poor decisions, setting off a bizarre chain of retribution including but not limited to robbery, vandalism, catfishing and bad Yelp reviews.The show was created by the writer Lee Sung Jin (“Dave,” “Two Broke Girls”), who first worked with Yeun and Wong on the animated series “Tuca & Bertie.” (Yeun and Wong played a robin and a song thrush who are lovers.) Around the same time, Lee was involved in a road rage confrontation in Los Angeles that would inspire his new series.“Beef” is Lee’s first outing as a series creator and showrunner. It also features Yeun’s first regular role on live-action TV since his character, Glenn, was killed off “The Walking Dead” in 2016. Glenn’s gruesome murder sparked viewer outrage but things worked out great for Yeun, who has since appeared in acclaimed films like “Minari,” which brought him an Academy Award nomination for best actor, and “Burning.”Lee and Yeun are set to work together again on Marvel’s forthcoming “Thunderbolts” movie, their first forays into the MCU: Lee as a writer, Yeun in a yet-to-be-revealed role.On an afternoon in March, Yeun and Lee got together at the Apple Pan, a beloved hole-in-the-wall burger joint on L.A.’s west side. Over hickory burgers, fries and slices of pie, they talked about how they met, the inspiration for “Beef” and their Korean church connections. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.In “Beef,” Yeun and Ali Wong play strangers who become embroiled in a bitter feud.NetflixTell me about the “incident.”LEE SUNG JIN I was getting on the 10. The light turned green and I didn’t go right away, and a white BMW X3 starts honking like crazy, pulls up next to me and [the driver] says a bunch of [expletive] at me. I was like, That’s not OK — I’m going to follow him home. In reality, I wasn’t actually going to follow him; I’m not that courageous. But back then I lived in Santa Monica — when we both got off at Fourth Street, I’m just commuting home, but I’m sure he was like, Oh my God, this guy is following me.I thought there was something interesting there, how we’re all locked in our subjective world views, and we go around projecting a lot on the other person and not really seeing things for what they are.How did you two first meet?LEE We actually met through Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg. I was doing their pilot “Singularity” for FX, and I had really wanted to work with Steven. Seth and Evan are huge fans of his. [To Yeun] I don’t know how they knew you.STEVEN YEUN I don’t either. I guess maybe comic book worlds? Just me being in “Walking Dead” and them being fans of that world. And being gracious people, too, they invited me over to their house one time and properly smoked me out.LEE So Seth and Evan [introduced Lee and Yeun]. And after that first meeting, we had you and your wife over at our place. I was with my now-wife, and I remember feeling like we were going to know each other for a while. There was just something very comforting and familiar. We have very similar backgrounds.YEUN We’re not from the coasts. And we’re Korean. And we’re working in this business.Playing his character in “Beef” was “almost therapeutic,” Yeun said. “How do we see the world when you’re living in this space of, like, This place is designed to crush me?”Ryan Pfluger for The New York TimesLEE And we both came up in the Korean church.How did you come up with the character of Danny?LEE I’m sure there’s a lot of me in Danny, but I think there’s a lot of all of us in Danny. I knew I wanted this guy to have a chip on his shoulder. I knew he lived in Reseda. I had just bought a home, and I was hearing a lot of funny stories about handymen and contractors shooting themselves in the foot when it comes to their work.YEUN Danny was an interesting thought experiment — it was almost therapeutic. How do we see the world when you’re living in this space of, like, This place is designed to crush me? I’m pretty sure all of us feel that way to some degree.What was that like to play for 10 episodes?YEUN I was pretty exhausted most days; you’re kind of living in a hypervigilant state. But I also relate to that life. I never dreamed I would be in this position in this business, and I think that makes you learn how to avoid things that could potentially harm you. For me, that seems like a very immigrant lens.Have you had road rage?YEUN Oh for sure. I think anybody who tells you that they haven’t is a liar. But my road rage is usually contained in my car.Yeun plays a handyman with a chip on his shoulder.Andrew Cooper/NetflixWong plays a wealthy entrepreneur.Andrew Cooper/NetflixThe series revolves around this relationship between Danny and Amy, but you aren’t together physically for much of it. What was that like?YEUN It was exciting, because you would hear the rumblings of how shooting was going on the other side. And I’m sure she was also hearing the other side. But then every time we would get together, it was very electric.I could see you and Ali getting into it, just as people.YEUN There’s good electricity between Ali and I.LEE They’re very similar, but opposite in a lot of ways — I mean that in the best way. We’re all close friends but I think when you have that, it does cause electricity.Much of the series takes place in parts of Los Angeles you rarely see on TV, including a Korean church in the Valley, complete with a praise team.LEE I’ve actually known Justin Min [who plays the praise team leader] since he was a kid, because his older brother, Jason, was my best friend in college. When Jason moved out to L.A., Steven, before “The Walking Dead,” went to the same church as him and was in the praise team.Jason actually arranged all the praise team songs in the show, and we prerecorded the music with this amazing producer, Ariel Rechtshaid, who does, like, Beyoncé and Adele. Jason is a pastor now, and he pulled his actual praise team from his church, and there were extras from that church who knew you, remember? There were these little kids going, “Uncle Steven!”YEUN That week was really fun, because we shot at an actual Korean church in Chatsworth. There was something very nostalgic about that week.“I thought there was something interesting there, how we’re all locked in our subjective world views,” Lee said about the incident that inspired the show.Ryan Pfluger for The New York TimesL.A. has always had plenty of road rage, but the problem got even worse during the pandemic. To what extent is this a Covid series?LEE We wrote it during Covid, and we were seeing headlines like: “Because of Covid, road rage up.” So yeah, it was in the air.But even aside from the rage, the thing that gets exacerbated with Covid is this sense of isolation and loneliness. When Amy talks to George in the intimacy exercise scene about this feeling she’s had forever, that came from me telling the writers’ room about my own low points. I was talking about my goddaughter, Lily — she was 4 at the time — and how I just hope she never has this feeling, and I started crying because it was very sad to think that she’s going to have to deal with it. I think that the show is really getting at the core of this feeling that a lot of us can’t escape.Do you ever wonder why you got so mad during the encounter that inspired this show? Or is it a common thing for you?LEE Um, yeah, I think I should probably reflect on it more.YEUN I think you’ve done quite a lot of reflecting!LEE Well, I’ve definitely thought a lot about not just that incident but why I am the way I am. And why any of us are.It’s easy, in writing, to point to one thing and be like, Oh, it was this trauma in my past, like, A leads to B leads to C. But that’s just not how we work. The lines aren’t straight — it’s very wiggly, and there’s a lot of stuff. I think that’s what the show wants to explore: That it’s not one thing. It really is about how hard it is to be alive.Is that BMW driver going to see a picture of you and go, Hey, that guy made this into a TV show?LEE No, I was wearing sunglasses.YEUN Also, that guy probably gets into five of those a day. He’s telling somebody off because they didn’t go fast enough? That guy lives in that space. More

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      in Movies

      Stream These 9 Titles Before They Leave Netflix in April

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      A bunch of great TV shows and movies are departing for U.S. subscribers this month. Catch them while you can.This month’s assortment of titles leaving Netflix in the United States includes three hysterically funny series, two of must-see documentaries, two comic-book adaptations that buck expectations and one of the scariest movies the streamer has to offer. See them before they leave. (Dates reflect the last day a title is available.)‘Hush’ (April 7)The director Mike Flanagan has become the horror king of Netflix, with credits including “Gerald’s Game” “The Haunting of Hill House” and “Midnight Mass.” But before any of those high-profile projects, he co-wrote (with his star and spouse, Kate Siegel) this lean, mean, efficient little single-location slasher thriller. Siegel plays Maddie, a deaf and mute novelist who works and lives in an isolated country home and must fight for her life when she is targeted by a brutal killer (John Gallagher Jr.). The result is tense, frightening and wildly effective.Stream it here.‘New Girl’: Seasons 1-7 (April 9)On first sight, this Fox sitcom seemed tailored entirely (and narrowly) to spotlight the specific pixie-like charms of its star, Zooey Deschanel. But within a few episodes, “New Girl” became much more:a fast-paced, frequently quotable showcase for an ace comic ensemble. Deschanel remained at the center, but the uproarious characterizations and onscreen teamwork of Max Greenfield’s high-maintenance Schmidt, Lamorne Morris’s oddball Winston, Hannah Simone’s complicated Cece and (especially) Jake Johnson’s rough-edged-but-soft-centered Nick turned this into one of the freshest and funniest network comedies of the 2010s.Stream it here.‘We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks’ (April 23)The prolific documentary filmmaker Alex Gibney waded into one of the most complicated stories of his career when he took on the rise of Julian Assange’s organization — and the fall of Assange himself. It’s a story toward which neutrality is all but impossible — for a filmmaker or a viewer — but Gibney is admirably evenhanded, praising WikiLeaks’ high-minded mission and notable scoops while also asking pressing questions about its founder, his motives and his misdeeds. And the filmmaking unfolds with the tension and propulsion of a tightly-wound political thriller, which, in many ways, is exactly what it is.Stream it here.‘Bill Nye: Science Guy’ (April 24)As the (comparatively) science-friendly Obama administration gave way to the climate denialism of Donald Trump, the 1990s-era children’s television personality Bill Nye reconsidered his mission and his audience, repositioning himself as an advocate and educator for older generations. The directors David Alvarado and Jason Sussberg document that tricky career shift as Nye changes from an innocuous fellow with a perpetual smile and bow tie into a surprisingly polarizing political lightning rod. The results are as enlightening, thought-provoking and frequently amusing as the man himself.Stream it here.‘The IT Crowd’: Series 1-5 (April 25)Several international comedy stars-to-be — including Chris O’Dowd (“Bridesmaids”), Matt Berry (“What We Do in the Shadows”) and Richard Ayoade (“Travel Man”) — made their first big splash in this unfailingly clever British office sitcom. O’Dowd and Ayoade star as Roy and Moss, socially inept, know-it-all IT technicians. Katherine Parkinson is Jen Barber, their manager, who is tech illiterate (much to their chagrin) but personally adept (much to their amazement). It sports a tone and style not unlike the original British version of “The Office,” and it accomplishes a similar duality: though unmistakably local in its details, it taps into universal truths about work, class and life.Stream it here.‘Ash vs. Evil Dead’: Seasons 1-3 (April 28)The new “Evil Dead” sequel, “Evil Dead Rise,” hits theaters on April 21, though it continues in the grim, humorless vein of the series’s 2013 installment. Those who prefer the zany, slapstick-heavy, gore-and-grins iteration of the franchise, tweaked to perfection by the director Sam Raimi and the star Bruce Campbell in “Evil Dead II” (1987) and “Army of Darkness” (1993), can direct their attention to this Starz Original series, codeveloped by Raimi, with Campbell reprising his role as the wisecracking, chain saw toting, Book-of-the-Dead-battling hero Ash Williams. The results are somewhat uneven (the early episodes, with which Raimi was most directly involved, are the highlights), but fans of the films will love it anyway.Stream it here.‘Leap Year’ (April 30)This light-as-a-soufflé romantic comedy was not exactly received with enthusiasm upon its release in 2010, but time has been kind to it for several reasons, among them the general dearth of theatrical rom-coms and the slow-burn charms of the screenwriters Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont (whose “Josie and the Pussycats” has undergone a spectacular popular and critical reappraisal). Perhaps most important, it’s an opportunity to see Amy Adams at her light and breezy best, in sharp contrast to her more recent spate of Serious Actor Oscar bids.Stream it here.‘Road to Perdition’ (April 30)This 2002 adaptation of the graphic novel by Max Allan Collins (itself inspired by the “Lone Wolf and Cub” manga and film series) was only the second feature film from the director Sam Mendes. Yet it plays like an elegy, a film about endings, mortality and what we leave behind. It was the final film of the award-winning cinematographer Conrad L. Hall, whose visions of Depression-era America here are staggeringly evocative, and one of the final onscreen appearances for Paul Newman. The actor nabbed one last Academy Award nomination for his work as the patriarch of a crime family, caught between his irresponsible biological son (a pre-Bond Daniel Craig) and his beloved surrogate son (Tom Hanks, in a rare and affecting non-hero turn).Stream it here.‘Scott Pilgrim vs. the World’ (April 30)Edgar Wright’s 2010 action-comedy, initially a box-office disappointment, has become a cult favorite in the intervening years, and for good reason: Its fizzy look and feel, energetic direction and spirited performances make it one of the most purely entertaining comic book adaptations of recent years, and Wright’s light touch keeps it from bogging down into the endless back stories and crossovers that have tended to burden such pictures. Michael Cera is a delight in the title role, and the stacked supporting cast includes such MVPs as Kieran Culkin, Chris Evans, Anna Kendrick, Brie Larson, Aubrey Plaza, Mary Elizabeth Winstead as his dream girl and Jason Schwartzman, cast against type as a supervillain.Stream it here. More

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      in Movies

      ‘The Magician’s Elephant’ Review: The Promise of a Pachyderm

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      Adapted from Kate DiCamillo’s beloved children’s book, this animated adventure sands down the somberness of its source material while turning up the silliness.“Anything is possible,” the saucer-eyed characters insist in “The Magician’s Elephant,” a new animated adventure directed by Wendy Rogers. The movie adapts Kate DiCamillo’s 2009 book by the same name, which celebrates the power of serendipity: When a magician accidentally conjures a pachyderm in the war-ruined European city of Baltese, he sets off a chain of unexpected events that gives renewed hope to an orphan boy searching for his long-lost sister.The beauty of DiCamillo’s text is that it is equal parts somber and silly, its undercurrent of grief balanced by fantastical absurdities. In jazzing up the tale for the screen, Rogers sands down the somberness — Baltese is all fuzzy blues and pinks, with nary a trace of postwar grit — while turning up the silliness for gimmicky thrills.In this version, the orphan, Peter (Noah Jupe), has to perform a series of ludicrous tasks to win the elephant — who is crucial to his search — from a ditzy king (Aasif Mandvi). The characters’ motivations are so thinly defined (the king simply wants to be “entertained”) and the challenges so anticlimactic (in one set piece, Peter defeats a fearsome warrior by waving a book in his face) that the refrain “anything is possible” starts to feel as if it’s an excuse for sloppy plotting.The voice performances are lively and evocative — Benedict Wong as the magician and Brian Tyree Henry as a palace guard are standouts — but the film is stuffed with too many characters for even TikTok-fed young viewers to keep straight. And for a tale about the power of belief, the narrator, a fortune teller (Natasia Demetriou), breaks the fourth wall a few too many times, offering commentary like a parent lecturing in the middle of a bedtime story.The Magician’s ElephantRated PG. Running time: 1 hour 39 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More