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      ‘Better Call Saul’ Season 6, Episode 9 Recap: Bye Bye Love

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      Kim and Gus make some difficult decisions of the heart. Mike goes on a mission of mercy.Season 6, Episode 9: ‘Fun and Games’Let’s break with tradition and start at the end of this whipsawing episode, which delivers two quick jolts in its closing minutes.The first is Kim’s decision to quit both the law and her marriage. Her rationale? That together she and Jimmy are a hazard, both to themselves and to others. A newlywed who is not as rash might have considered less drastic solutions — maybe a week in Bali, a bit of therapy. But Kim is nothing if not unpredictable, and there have been many moments in this show when you are certain she’s going to break up with Jimmy only to then see her give him a smooch. What we saw here was the same thing in reverse.If Kim were presenting a legal argument, we would say it started logically enough — hey, these two do produce some toxic chemistry — but got wacky by the end. She says that she withheld the news from Jimmy that Lalo was alive because she knew what would happen — that Jimmy would protect her, hide with her and end the plot against Howard. And were that to happen, “We’d break up,” as she puts it.Why? “Because I was having too much fun!” she shouts.Whoa. The implication here is that the scam was so unnervingly delightful, and harmful to others, that she must quit her co-conspirator, like an alcoholic who keeps crashing the car and swears off booze. That’s a guess. It’s difficult to fathom the inner life of someone who says, “I love you, too, but so what?”Let’s leave aside, for a moment, Jimmy’s reaction and focus on a connected question: What will Mike think? Kim has been given instructions to deliver an Academy Award-worthy performance in a real-life documentary called “Nothing to See Here” in the aftermath of Howard’s murder. And now she has left her job and Jimmy. That will raise exactly the sort of questions Mike didn’t want. This is a problem.The Return of ‘Better Call Saul’The “Breaking Bad” prequel is ending this year.A Refresher: Need to catch up? Here’s where things left off after the first seven episodes of the show’s final season, which aired this spring.Bob Odenkirk: After receiving a fifth Emmy nomination in July, the star discussed bringing some measure of self-awareness to the character of Saul for his final bow.Stealing the Show: Kim Wexler’s long slide toward perdition has become arguably the narrative keystone of the series, thanks to Rhea Seehorn’s performance.Writing the Perfect Con: We asked the show’s writers to break down a pivotal scene in the ​​transformation of Jimmy McGill into Saul Goodman.On to the second jolt. Right after the breakup argument, the episode jumps forward in time to Saul Goodman’s louche and extravagant life, which is filled with Xanax, prostitutes and Roman-influenced, self-mythologizing décor and art, all of it in the comically opulent house that we saw in the opening episode of this season.Is the sudden end of this relationship with Kim supposed to explain this transformation? Lots of people have their hearts broken. Some evolve. Very few emerge with entirely different personalities. Perhaps we’re to believe that Saul was hiding inside Jimmy and emerged courtesy of the trauma of Kim’s departure. Granted, Kim’s farewell is quite a trauma. It’s just hard to believe that it steered a slightly crooked, often endearing and largehearted man into total depravity.That said, we know that in the future, Saul will hastily exit Albuquerque when he gains infamy in “Breaking Bad” and emerge with as a nebbish named Gene Takavic, managing a Cinnabon in Omaha. The writers have already signaled that this character can shift in shape.The less confounding part of this episode comes near the beginning. Gus has been summoned to the south-of-the-border home of Don Eladio, where Don Hector accuses him of killing Lalo and plotting to usurp the cartel. Unruffled, Gus answers this potentially fatal allegation by declaring it too preposterous to dignify with words. Then Eladio and his underling Bolsa make Gus’s case on his behalf, and in doing so demonstrate how well Fring has covered his tracks, with an assist from Lalo, who left behind a burned corpse with matching teeth.Hector is left to ring his bell in frantic, fruitless protest. Point to Gus, who seems to derive much of the meaning in his life by tormenting his foe. The scene ends with a moment that explains why. Fring stares at the pool, the same place where years ago, Hector shot and killed Max Arciniega, the love of Gus’s life. At that moment, Gus was lying next to Max, close enough to watch blood gush into the pool.Gus is haunted by that memory, and when he returns to his home in Albuquerque, we watch him regain his life, his happiness and his routine. But there are limits. When he visits what appears to be his favorite restaurant, he has a long conversation with a waiter and oenophile named David (Reed Diamond), who dazzles Gus with his good looks and tales of vineyard hopping through Europe as a young man. Nobody has ever spoken to Gus for so long, and through David’s entire monologue, Gus seems pleasantly rapt. This is smitten Gus, a side of the man we’ve never seen.Instead of asking for a date, which is what happens in the rom-com version of this interlude, Gus quickly leaves while the waiter is retrieving an even rarer bottle of wine. Fring has either decided he can’t get hurt again or concluded that love isn’t for a man in his position. It’s a weakness he can’t afford because to enemies, loved ones are easy targets. They end up dead, or sent on suicide missions to kill other people, like Kim in the previous episode.The finest part of this strangely long scene — six minutes! — comes at the end, when there’s a lingering tight shot of Gus’s face and we see him segue from relaxed and joyful to tense and withdrawn. Without a word of dialogue, you can see him come to a firm decision. He must keep his monastic, loveless life.Mike uses some of his post-clean-up downtime to visit Manuel Varga (Juan Carlos Cantu) and explain that his son, Nacho, is dead. (He does this because he has been taught about the agony of not knowing the fate of a loved one by Anita, his grief counseling buddy from Season 3, whose husband vanished in the New Mexico wilderness years earlier, a source of wrenching sorrow for her.) On the plus side, he says, Nacho’s killers will soon come to justice. Mr. Varga corrects Mike. It won’t be justice. It will be revenge, he says.In a cast of characters who are corrupt and wicked in various shades of gray, this humble upholsterer is here to remind viewers what uncompromising goodness actually looks like. To him, even a guy like Mike, who has an acute sense of fairness, is just another hoodlum.Odds and EndsSaul Goodman has finally turned up in the flesh, albeit for just a few minutes. Kind of nervy — naming a show for character who debuts in the ninth episode of the sixth season.What’s with the tip that Gus left at that restaurant? Obviously, $201 is generous for a glass of wine. But why the added $1? Did he think $200 just isn’t quite enough?Jimmy’s line, “What’s done can be undone,” is a nod to Macbeth, and a famous utterance by a Lady Macbeth — the original female gangster — who rues her role in murdering King Duncan of Scotland. “What’s done,” she says, “cannot be undone.”Lady Macbeth is an apt and interesting model for Kim. She sort of pushes her husband into the plot against the king, much as Kim pushes Jimmy to trap Howard. And Lady Macbeth has seriously strong scheming chops, just like Kim. Consider her psychological assault on Howard’s widow, Cheryl (Sandrine Holt) at Howard’s wake. First, she conjures a memory of seeing Howard “snorting something” off his desk at the office. When Cheryl begins to believe that her husband just might have had a drug problem, Kim comforts Cheryl and implies that everyone else might be wrong.“You were his wife,” she says. “You knew him better than anyone.”Well played, madam. Keep in mind that there’s often a price for such wicked manipulations. Lady Macbeth goes insane and then commits suicide. Kim has an easier time of it, at least so far. She leaves the work and the man she loves.Four episodes left, and a lot of story to tell. The future of Gene Takavic. The fate of Kim. There are engineers and a crew to hire, a super lab to build. Walter White and Jesse Pinkman are due any minute.Please leave thoughts — and any theories about Gus’s tipping habits — in the comments section. More

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      An ‘Impossible Dream’ Comes True, Again, for Marylouise Burke in ‘Epiphany’

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      The 81-year-old actress stars as an eccentric dinner party host. When she was a teenager, though, wanting to act was a secret she didn’t dare tell.The staircase in Brian Watkins’s play “Epiphany,” at Lincoln Center Theater, goes up and up. Tall and imposing, it’s the kind of centerpiece to a set that makes you wonder, when you arrive for a performance, who is going to be climbing and descending it.The actor Marylouise Burke, for one, spends considerable time dashing up and down those steps, which she knew from the script would be in the show. So when her agent got a call asking her to play the lead role of Morkan, the warmly eccentric host of a dinner party fueled by existential desperation and touched with spiritual longing, she asked him to inquire: Was it going to be “a normal staircase or a crazy staircase?”Not that she wasn’t tempted by the part, with which she had felt immediately simpatico since performing it in a prepandemic reading. But Burke, who is 81, diminutive and a longtime favorite of the playwright David Lindsay-Abaire, shattered both wrists and her left kneecap two years ago when she tripped on a pothole in front of the West Village building where she has lived in a studio apartment since 1977.And sometimes, she said the other afternoon, sitting a bit shyly for an interview in the theater’s glass-walled lobby, “you have a designer who decides that the floor is going to be absurd because the script is absurd or something like that. I just knew I needed it to be even steps going up. You know, they can’t all be different heights, or tilted.”Burke, seated at center left, with her fellow castmates at the dinner party table in the Lincoln Center Theater production of “Epiphany.”Jeremy DanielIn John Lee Beatty’s design, they are neither. Burke is on perfectly solid ground, which leaves her free to do the destabilizing. That is something of a specialty of hers: luring an audience in with a portrayal that on its surface is so instantly fascinating that we never think to expect that there’s more underneath. And there is always, always more underneath — comic, tragic or very possibly both.To Tyne Rafaeli, the director of “Epiphany,” Burke’s “particular brand of humor” and “ability to mask a simmering fragility” made her the ideal match for Morkan, a character who draws even new acquaintances toward her and elicits from them the impulse to help her.“Marylouise is that,” Rafaeli said. “She has that effect on other artists. People who are around Marylouise, they want to collaborate with her. They want to lean toward her. She just has that kind of energetic pull. So the line between her and the character is very thin, obviously.”Morkan is for Burke a rare starring part. Another was Kimberly, the teenager with the rapid-aging disease in Lindsay-Abaire’s “Kimberly Akimbo,” a role she originated in 2001, long before the play morphed into a musical. A character actor, Burke has been performing on New York stages since she arrived in the city in 1973, when she was 32 and eager “to have more opportunities to act for free,” she said, kidding but not. “It never occurred to me that I would ever in my whole life get paid to act.”Burke with John Gallagher Jr. in David Lindsay-Abaire’s 2001 play “Kimberly Akimbo” at City Center’s Stage I.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesIt was another eight years before she got her Actors’ Equity card, in a tiny part in an Off Broadway production of Heinrich von Kleist’s “The Broken Pitcher,” starring Larry Pine. By now she has amassed nearly 50 years of New York theater credits — many in the strange downtown productions she loves, among them the title role in the Mabou Mines-Trick Saddle show “Imagining the Imaginary Invalid,” at La MaMa in 2016.Her screen credits include movies like “Sideways,” in which she played the sprightly broken mother to Paul Giamatti’s middle-aged wreck, and television series like Netflix’s “Ozark,” in which she had a darkly delightful, Season 3 arc as the marriage therapist to Laura Linney and Jason Bateman’s extremely crimey central couple.“I actually knew probably from the time I was 13 or 14 that I wanted to act,” Burke said from behind a white KN95 mask that engulfed her lower face. “But it seemed like such an impossible dream. And I never admitted that to anybody.”She spent her childhood in Steelton, Pa., a Bethlehem Steel company town where her father owned a grocery store and her mother was a homemaker with comic timing that Burke inherited. The town was proud of its high school football team, and she played fight songs on clarinet in the school band at their games. But she didn’t know anyone who acted.Her adolescence coincided with the cookie-cutter conservative age of Dwight D. Eisenhower, and her family’s expectation — “once they found out that I was smart” — was that she would become a teacher. Off at college, though, in what she called “a major rebellion,” she swiftly changed her major from education to English, with a philosophy minor, and started acting in school plays.“I just always felt better when I was in a play,” she said, wrapping her arms protectively around her body, making herself even smaller. “I just always felt more who I was.”Hang on, what is that arm-wrapping gesture about? Burke hesitated, considered. Then: “I’d like to be nice to that girl back there,” she said, meaning her young self, the one with the “incongruous dream.”Burke at Lincoln Center. When it comes to acting in his new play “Epiphany,” the playwright Brian Watkins said her “level of specificity is just a gift to a writer.”Celeste Sloman for The New York TimesAfter college she earned a master’s degree in English literature, and discovered as a teaching assistant that she hated getting up in front of a class to speak. Floundering after a brief marriage in her mid-20s, she found herself living with a sympathetic aunt in suburban Philadelphia, holding down day jobs and taking classes at night at the nearby Hedgerow Theater Company.For years after she moved to New York, office jobs — copy editing, proofreading, word processing — kept her afloat. When “Kimberly Akimbo” opened Off Broadway in 2003, she said, five of her ex-bosses came to see it with their wives.She first worked with Lindsay-Abaire on his play “A Devil Inside” at Soho Rep in 1997; his “Fuddy Meers,” two years later at Manhattan Theater Club, was a career turning point, because casting directors started to notice her.When Watkins asked Lindsay-Abaire about casting Burke for “Epiphany,” Lindsay-Abaire thought it would make perfect sense. While their plays are very different, he said, “there is that dual tone of funny grief that runs under both of our works.”He told Watkins of Burke’s extraordinary devotion to playwrights, which Watkins marveled at nonetheless when she questioned him closely on the pronunciation he intended for the exclamation “Agh,” which appears repeatedly in her lines.“That level of specificity is just a gift to a writer,” he said.Even more strikingly, Burke was fighting through brain fog and physical fatigue to learn her lines, having had Covid just before rehearsals started.But Morkan is in her bones now — and Burke does, as Lindsay-Abaire said, come “bounding down those stairs like she was a 14-year-old.”At a time when, she said, theater is still “not the same” as it was prepandemic, she feels grateful for Lincoln Center Theater’s caution about Covid protocols, and grateful that its audience is masked. She is also happy to be back onstage, alongside eight fellow actors, telling her character’s story.“It’s very precious to be going out there,” she said. “Going out there together.” More

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      What’s on TV This Week: ‘Grown-ish’ and ‘The Old Man’

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      One show, on Freeform, begins its fifth season while the other, on FX, wraps up its first.Between network, cable and streaming, the modern television landscape is a vast one. Here are some of the shows, specials and movies coming to TV this week, July 18-24. Details and times are subject to change.Monday2022 MLB HOME RUN DERBY 8 p.m. on ESPN. As part of Major League Baseball’s All-Star Week, which includes its All-Star Game and the M.L.B. draft, it will be hosting its annual Home Run Derby. For the past two years Pete Alonso has been the winner of this event and the $1 million cash prize that goes along with it. With Alonso competing again this year, he is the one to beat.SID AND NANCY (1986) 10 p.m. on TCM. This movie, which centers on the Sex Pistols, Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen, tells a fictionalized tale of the breakdown of the relationship between Sid (Gary Oldman) and Nancy (Chloe Webb). Though the film is somewhat of a love story, the couple’s actual relationship ended in 1978 when Spungen died at age 20 and Vicious died months later of an overdose while awaiting trial for her murder. The New York Times critic Janet Maslin wrote in her 1986 review of the film that “what it does best is to generate odd, unexpected images that epitomize the characters’ affectlessness and rage.”TuesdayFrom left: Nick Jonas, Shakira and Liza Koshy in “Dancing With Myself.”Fernando Decillis/NBCDANCING WITH MYSELF 10 p.m. on NBC. This show featuring viral dancing challenges, a live studio audience and the celebrity judges Nick Jonas, Shakira and Liza Koshy is wrapping up its first season this week. Each episode features 12 contestants who learn short dances, often similar to TikTok dances, and then the live audience members vote for their favorites. “This is a show that is for everyone,” Shakira told The Times for an article in June. “It’s about celebrating the love of dance and personal stories among all people, not just professionals.”Wednesday2022 ESPY AWARDS 8 p.m. on ABC. The ESPY awards are going to be held on Wednesday night in Los Angeles. Steph Curry is stepping into the host role and he is up for three awards. (He has previously won two: Best Male Athlete in 2015 and Best N.B.A. Player in 2021.) The ESPYs announced the nominees in late June and the public voting period ended on Sunday. Other nominees include Tom Brady, Aaron Rodgers and Katie Ledecky.GROWN-ISH 10 p.m. on Freeform. “Grown-ish” is coming back for a fifth season this week, with familiar faces, new faces and minus some characters. Season 4 of the show ended with a high school graduation which was a farewell to six characters: Ana, Nomi, Jazz, Luca, Sky and Vivek. Yara Shahidi (Zoey), Trevor Jackson (Aaron) and Diggy Simmons (Doug) are all returning to the show as their characters move from high school to college. Six new cast members — Matthew Sato, Tara Raani, Justine Skye, Amelie Zilber, Ceyair Wright and Slick Woods — are joining the show. This season will have an eight-episode run.ThursdayPrince during his Purple Rain Tour.Nancy Bundt/PBSPRINCE AND THE REVOLUTION: THE PURPLE RAIN TOUR 8:30 p.m. on PBS (check local listings). On March 30, 1985, at the Carrier Dome in Syracuse, N.Y., Prince took the stage. Though it was previously available in 2017, the video recording of the concert has been remastered. The PBS broadcast of the show features performances of “Delirious,” “1999,” “Little Red Corvette,” and an 18-minute version of “Purple Rain.”THE OLD MAN 10 p.m. on FX. “The Old Man,” based on the novel by Thomas Perry of the same name, is wrapping up its first season this week. The show, which stars Jeff Bridges (Dan Chase), John Lithgow (Harold Harper) and Amy Brenneman (Zoe), follows a man who left the C.I.A. and has since been living off the grid. “The seriousness of the show’s approach to Chase, and Bridges’s excellence in the role, are what set ‘The Old Man’ apart,” Mike Hale wrote in his review for the Times, “but it’s also (through Week 4) a well-above-average if unusually pensive and introspective spy thriller.” The completion of this season has been a long time coming — the show first paused production at the start of the pandemic and then again when Bridges began chemotherapy for lymphoma and contracted the coronavirus while undergoing treatment.FridayKILLER’S KISS (1955) 8 p.m. on TCM. After his feature film debut “Fear and Desire” in 1953, Stanley Kubrick followed it up with this film noir. After a budding romance begins to form between Davey Gordon (Jamie Smith) and Gloria Price (Irene Kane), Gordon must search the city for Price after her evil boss kidnaps her. “Using Times Square and even the subway as his backdrop, Mr. Kubrick worked in an uncharacteristically naturalistic style despite the genre material, with mixed but still fascinating results,” the New York Times critic Janet Maslin wrote in her 1994 review of the film.SaturdaySUPERSTAR RACING EXPERIENCE 8 p.m. on CBS. This show, which aired its first season last summer, is finishing up a second season this Saturday. Every Saturday since mid-June, CBS has aired one race of the six-race, short-track racing series. The season began this year at the Five Flags Speedway in Pensacola, Fla., and finishes up Saturday at the Sharon Speedway in Hartford, Ohio. For the season finale, Dave Blaney, alongside his son Ryan Blaney, will represent Sharon Speedway.SundayJACKASS SHARK WEEK 2.0 9 p.m. on Discovery. Shark Week is back this Sunday and it will kick off with a collaboration with the cast of “Jackass,” for a second year in a row. Last year, the cast members performed stunts with the sharks that led to the guest star Sean McInerney, a.k.a. Poopies, getting bitten by a shark and rushed to the hospital. This year, McInerney is heading back into the shark-infested waters, alongside Chris Pontius, Wee Man, Jasper Dolphin, Dark Shark and Zach Holmes to overcome his fear of sharks. More

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      L.Q. Jones, Who Played Heavies With a Light Touch, Dies at 94

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      His face was familiar, mostly in westerns, during a career that spanned five decades. He also directed the cult film “A Boy and His Dog.”L.Q. Jones, a hirsute, craggy-faced, swaggering Texan who guilelessly played the antihero in some 60 films and dozens of television series, died on Saturday at his home in the Hollywood Hills area of Los Angeles. He was 94.His death was confirmed by his grandson Erté deGarces.A former stand-up comic, Mr. Jones also tried his hand as a bean, corn and dairy rancher in Nicaragua and once described himself as “but several hours away from three degrees — one in law, one in business, one in journalism” at the University of Texas.But he was lured to the Warner Bros. studios when a college roommate, Fess Parker, the actor who later played both Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett, persuaded him to audition for a minor role in the 1955 film “Battle Cry,” directed by Raoul Walsh and adapted from Leon Uris’s novel.Mr. Parker sent him a copy of the book and a map with directions to the Warner lot. Mr. Jones was cast in two days.Billed as Justus E. McQueen (his birth name), he made his first appearance onscreen as the movie’s narrator introduced a group of all-American Army recruits being shipped by train to boot camp. The camera then panned to a character named L.Q. Jones.“Then, abruptly, the narrator’s voice drops to the scornful tone of a 10th-grade math teacher doling out detention,” Justin Humphreys wrote in “Names You Never Remember, With Faces You Never Forget” (2006).“‘There’s one in every group,’ he tells us, as we see L.Q. mischievously giving one of the other soldiers-to-be a hotfoot,” Mr. Humphrey added. “There could have been no more perfect beginning to L.Q. Jones’s career in the movies. The word that best sums up his overriding screen persona is hellion.”The actor pirated the character’s name for his own subsequent screen credits. From then on, Justus McQueen was L.Q. Jones.Mr. Jones joined the director Sam Peckinpah’s stable of actors, appearing in “Ride the High Country” (1962), “Major Dundee” (1965) and “The Wild Bunch” (1969), in which he and his fellow character actor Strother Martin play rival bounty hunters and, as the studio described their manic competition for the highest body count, “bring their depraved characters to life with a childish energy.”Mr. Jones was also frequently seen in the stampede of westerns that arrived on TV in the 1950s and ’60s, including “Cheyenne,” “Gunsmoke,” “Wagon Train” and “Rawhide.” His films included the 1968 westerns “Hang ’em High,” in which he slipped a noose around Clint Eastwood’s neck, and “Stay Away, Joe,” with Elvis Presley. Among his other screen credits were Martin Scorsese’s “Casino” (1995) and Robert Altman’s “A Prairie Home Companion” (2006), his last film.Don Johnson and friend in “A Boy and His Dog” (1975), which Mr. Jones directed. “I hope he goes on directing,” one reviewer wrote. But he didn’t.LQ/JAFMr. Jones directed, produced and helped write “A Boy and His Dog” (1975), a dark post-apocalyptic comedy starring Don Johnson and Jason Robards, based on the book of the same name by Harlan Ellison.“‘A Boy and His Dog,’ a fantasy about the world after a future holocaust, is, more or less, a beginner’s movie. It has some good ideas and some terrible ones,” Richard Eder wrote in his New York Times review.“This is the second film directed by L.Q. Jones, better known as an actor,” Mr. Eder continued. “It is not really a success, but I hope he goes on directing.”He didn’t. “A Boy and His Dog” acquired a cult following, but Mr. Jones returned to what he did best. He preferred the independence of choosing the villainous roles that appealed to him, and that measured his success, to the prospect of directing someone else’s script and wrangling larger-than-life egos.“Different parts call for different heavies,” Mr. Jones told William R. Horner for his book “Bad at the Bijou” (1982).“I have a certain presence,” he explained. “I play against that presence a lot of times, and that’s of a heavy that is not crazy or deranged — although we play those, of course — but rather someone who is a heavy because he enjoys being a heavy.”“It’s really hard to say what they’re looking for when they pick me,” Mr. Jones said. “A lot of times your heavy is not that well presented in the script. Most times he’s too one-sided. So we look for things to bring to being a heavy: a certain softness; a vulnerability that makes him human; a quiet moment when he’s a screamer most of the time; a look; the way he dresses; the way he walks into a room.”Mr. Jones was born Justus Ellis McQueen Jr. on Aug. 19, 1927, in Beaumont, Texas. His father was a railroad worker; his mother, Jessie Paralee (Stephens) McQueen, died in a car accident when he was a child. He learned to ride a horse when he was 8.After graduating from high school, he served in the Navy, attended Lamar Junior College and Lon Morris College in Texas, and briefly attended the University of Texas at Austin. His marriage to Sue Lewis ended in divorce. In addition to his grandson, his survivors include his sons, Randy McQueen and Steve Marshall, and his daughter, Mindy McQueen.Mr. Jones seemed to measure success less by his bank account (he once described himself as “independently poor”) than by professional gratification. But he had a sense of humor about it.“I’m around somewhere, probably just counting my money,” the message on his telephone answering machine said. “When I get through, if I’m not too tired, I’ll return your call.” More

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      Daisy Edgar-Jones Would Like the Ingénue Phase of Her Career to End Now

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      Daisy Edgar-Jones bravely walked onstage, her face a ghastly white. Under her arm, a human head.“How could you do this to me!” she bellowed at Henry VIII.As the ghost of Anne Boleyn, Edgar-Jones, the hitherto quiet child, now slathered in face paint and clutching a homemade severed body part, found herself suddenly enamored with the spotlight.“That was the first time I remember being aware of the joy of departing from yourself,” Edgar-Jones said.She recounted this pivotal school-play memory on a breezy June afternoon, perched on a cream-colored couch in a cream-colored luxury hotel suite in West Hollywood. The cream-colored dress she’d been wearing for a series of engagements earlier that day had begun to unravel, prompting a change into an oversize black blazer, T-shirt, shorts and chunky G.H. Bass loafers, all of which now stood in cool contrast to the generic palette around her.At 24, the British actress is proving a reliable standout. In a string of major roles over the past two years, she’s morphed from brooding lover (“Normal People”) to cannibal-horror heroine (“Fresh”) to defiant Mormon (“Under the Banner of Heaven”). Her latest venture, the lead in the movie adaptation of “Where the Crawdads Sing,” arrives in theaters on July 15.In the romantic drama based on the best-selling novel by Delia Owens, Edgar-Jones play Kya, an abandoned girl who raised herself in the marshes of North Carolina and eventually lands in court, accused of murder.Clockwise from top left: “Where the Crawdads Sing,” “Normal People,” “Under the Banner of Heaven” and “Fresh.”Clockwise from top left: Michele K. Short/Sony Pictures, via Associated Press; Enda Bowe/Hulu; Michelle Faye/FX; Searchlight PicturesDuring her audition for the part via video, in 2020, Edgar-Jones brought the director Olivia Newman to tears and hooked one of the producers, Reese Witherspoon.“From her first screen test, she felt every moment of abandonment and loneliness that was written on the page,” Witherspoon wrote in an email. “Her work is so honest, it breaks my heart every time I watch it.”The film, shot in Louisiana, required Edgar-Jones to take boating and drawing lessons, and work with a dialect coach to hone a Carolina drawl. Her own accent is a soft-spoken mash-up of vernaculars, thanks to her Northern Irish mother and Scottish father.She was raised in the north London suburb of Muswell Hill, the only child of Wendy, a film and TV editor, and Philip, the head of entertainment at Sky, the British TV broadcaster. A few years after her Boleyn awakening, Edgar-Jones auditioned at age 15 for the National Youth Theater with a monologue from “Romeo and Juliet” — a loving tribute to Claire Danes’s performance in the Baz Luhrmann iteration.A perk of the prestigious program, which counts Helen Mirren and Daniel Day-Lewis among its alumni, was the members-only open casting calls, including one for Sofia Coppola’s planned adaptation of “The Little Mermaid.” While the project fizzled before Edgar-Jones got very far, the casting director introduced her to the talent agent Christopher Farrar, thus giving her representation and the confidence to continue. She considered college but ultimately turned down several universities, instead taking odd jobs as a barista and a waiter while she soldiered on with auditions.“I give Daisy a hell of a lot more credit than I’d give myself at 24,” said her “Fresh” co-star Sebastian Stan. “There’s an awareness to her that I think, at that age, is hard to find.”Chantal Anderson for The New York Times“I had some income and some semblance of hope,” she said. “It was, at first, a gap year, and then it became a gap life.”After a string of smaller roles in British productions, her big break came playing Marianne opposite Paul Mescal’s Connell in “Normal People.” When the series premiered in April 2020, it was the early days of the pandemic, and the Sally Rooney adaptation provided an intimate escape for viewers muddling their way through a shutdown world. Mescal’s chain necklace and Edgar-Jones’s bangs — an impulsive salon decision after a string of failed auditions — became overnight sensations.“I watched Daisy in ‘Normal People’ and was blown away by the subtlety of her performance and the impact of her choices,” Witherspoon wrote, praising “the most utterly honest performance that made me lean in and say, ‘Who is that?’”But as enthralled as viewers were with the actors playing the show’s laconic lovers, the fanfare was kept at a literal distance from Edgar-Jones, locked down in London.“I was being told that things were significant or changing, but I was just in my bedroom,” she said. “I was having this odd experience of being on Zoom the whole time having interviews, and then I’d go on my once-daily walk and someone would stare at me, but I didn’t know if it was just because they hadn’t seen another human being or if they had seen me in a show. It was really strange.”She garnered Critics Choice and Golden Globe nominations while spending the next year and a half isolated on sets in Calgary, Vancouver and New Orleans. Then, this past spring, she went through what she terms a “baptism of fire,” bouncing from her first red-carpet premiere (for “Fresh”) to her first Vanity Fair Oscar party and her first Met Gala in quick succession.“You know how a swan, when they’re on the river, they’re floating along really gracefully but underneath their legs are ——” she mimicked paddling furiously. Her crescendo on the Met steps wearing Oscar de la Renta “was like that,” she said. “Perhaps I looked calm, but I was terrified.”Her de facto societal debut coincided with the release of “Under the Banner of Heaven,” a true-crime drama series in which she played Brenda Lafferty, a Mormon woman who, along with her 15-month-old baby, was brutally murdered by religious extremists in 1984.In flashbacks, we see Brenda perform “The Rose,” pursue a broadcast journalism career and embolden other Mormon wives. But despite the heinous crimes at the show’s center, we never see Brenda’s actual killing or her lifeless visage onscreen. Compare that with, say, “The Staircase,” which took every opportunity to show Toni Collette meeting a graphic end.“That was something I felt was really important,” Edgar-Jones said of the omission. “Why would you want to capture the worst thing that could happen to somebody? Instead, you let their life be what’s defining.”Edgar-Jones is aiming for the career of a Jamie Lee Curtis, a Tilda Swinton or a Frances McDormand, women with an “unconventional idea of what a lead female should be.”Chantal Anderson for The New York TimesShe took the responsibility of playing a real person “incredibly seriously,” her co-star Andrew Garfield said, noting a certain “brilliance and joy” that he sees emanating from Edgar-Jones, onscreen and off.“There’s something unnameable that certain people have,” he said. “And, yeah, it’s talent. But it’s also a charisma and the kind of instant identification that you feel as an audience member where you go, Oh, I know this person, and I love this person. Even without them saying anything, you can feel their soul moving in a certain way and you want to follow whatever journey they’re on.”The two actors became fast friends while shooting in Canada. Off the clock, Edgar-Jones took a particular liking to electric bike and scooter rentals. “She would ride those scooters into the bitter winter months in Calgary until her hair started to freeze,” Garfield said. “She’s all about fun.”That includes routinely importing her own DJ equipment to spin house and disco tracks for her co-stars after work. Edgar-Jones is blissfully passionate about music in general: She often makes playlists for her characters (Kya’s involved a lot of Bat for Lashes and Blood Orange’s “Coastal Grooves” album) and plays guitar. She’s also developed a bond with the singer Phoebe Bridgers, who is in a relationship with Mescal of “Normal People.” Despite having, as Bridgers put it, “every opportunity to have the world’s craziest ego,” Edgar-Jones exudes wide-eyed enthusiasm. She is exceedingly polite — and perhaps a gentle liar — cheerfully telling the waiter who brought her a Pepsi instead of her requested Coke during our talk, “That’s fine. They taste the same.” And although she describes herself as shy, those who know her say she can also be uproariously off-color.In the past, her fair skin and brunette bangs have led some to describe her as the love child of Anne Hathaway and Dakota Johnson. More recently, “Stranger Things” fans have delighted in her perceived resemblance to Eddie Munson, the beloved Season 4 character played by Joseph Quinn. “I do see it,” she said, adding that she and Quinn once met by chance at a “Soul Train”-themed club night in London. “I think I now know what I’m wearing for Halloween.”During off-hours on the “Heaven” shoot, Edgar-Jones rode electric scooters and bonded with her co-star Andrew Garfield, who said: “She would ride those scooters into the bitter winter months in Calgary until her hair started to freeze. She’s all about fun.”Chantal Anderson for The New York TimesBut career-wise, she hopes to emulate Jamie Lee Curtis, Tilda Swinton or Frances McDormand: women who have forged careers in Hollywood built on longevity and who found some of their greatest successes once they’d shed any trace of the ingénue.“These women are able to really transform,” she said, “and also play characters that are funny and complicated and, at times, the unconventional idea of what a lead female should be.”Sebastian Stan, who co-starred with Edgar-Jones in the twisty comedy-thriller “Fresh,” sees echoes of another screen legend in her work.“I give Daisy a hell of a lot more credit than I’d give myself at 24. There’s an awareness to her that, I think at that age, is hard to find,” he said and compared her to a young Meryl Streep. “I’d like to think that as she gets older, her performances are only going to get more and more rich.”Edgar-Jones has a plan to make that happen. Her bucket list includes working with Wes Anderson, Barry Jenkins, the Coen brothers, the Daniels and Greta Gerwig. And she hopes to stretch herself into the unexpected, perhaps by playing “someone really evil,” doing more comedy or directing.“I really want to just learn and learn and learn and make mistakes and learn from them,” she said, “and be free to play and ride the journey wherever it goes.” More

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      in Television

      Phoebe Robinson Is Trash, and She’s Fine With It

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      Robinson created and stars in “Everything’s Trash,” a new series that “is a celebration of people who aren’t in a rush to change who they are,” she said.“Everyone is trash,” Phoebe Robinson explained. “We all have our great qualities, but we also have flaws. Sometimes they’re lovable. Sometimes they’re not. And it’s OK.”This was a on a recent summer morning and Robinson — a writer and performer best-known for her essay collections and the podcast-turned-HBO-show “2 Dope Queens” — was sermonizing in between sips of lemonade at a coffee shop in Downtown Brooklyn. She had arrived a few minutes late. (Lateness, she would later explain, is one of her trashiest qualities.) Around the corner stood a blue Bigbelly garbage can ornamented with her image, an ad for her new show, “Everything’s Trash,” which debuts Wednesday on Freeform. Robinson stars as Phoebe, a podcast host facing down adulthood with pluck and hedonism while her very together older brother (Jordan Carlos) runs for state office.Robinson, 37, adapted the show from her 2018 collection, “Everything’s Trash, But It’s Okay.” If creating, producing, writing for and starring in a show sounds like a lot of jobs, I should also note that this is the second show from Robinson’s production company, Tiny Reparations; that she runs a publishing imprint of the same name; and that she recently published a third essay collection. She also debuted her first standup special, “Sorry, Harriet Tubman,” last fall on HBO Max. Really, it’s enough to make a person want to go back to bed.In “Everything’s Trash,” Robinson stars as a podcaster stumbling toward adulthood.Giovanni Rufino/FreeformOn this morning, she greeted the day in sequined sandals, pants that matched the lemonade and a crinkly black jacket. (A Hefty bag, but make it fashion.) Under that jacket was a cropped T from U2’s “The Joshua Tree” tour. (Robinson is on record as loving U2 maybe more than anyone alive.) Over that lemonade, Robinson, exuberant and focused, discussed exploiting her young adulthood for laughs and whether she is still trash. Spoiler: “Of course I’m still trash!” she said.These are edited excerpts from the conversation.The book is based on the events and missteps of your late 20s and early 30s. How close does the show hew to your actual life?It’s a healthy combination of writers’ room and real life. My brother really is a state rep. But I would not hook up with his political rival. That’s not my vibe. We wanted to have fun with it — the times when I was crazy broke and running around, hustling. The whole wear-and-return thing? I did that for years. I would get a cute outfit for an event. And then I would be like: “OK, no one spill on me. No one sweat. Because I’m going to return this later.” We just mix it all up together. TV Phoebe is certainly messier than I ever was. She’s smart and funny and lovable, but she operates with whatever feels good in the moment. I like to believe I’m a bit more mindful than that. She’s just living her life.When I think of comedies about young women being trash, I think of “Girls” or “Broad City.” Have Black women felt as free to be trash?We know that the answer is no. But there are a lot of great shows out there — “Insecure,” “Abbott Elementary,” hopefully my show — that show people just living their lives. I didn’t create this show thinking about respectability politics. It wasn’t even a topic of discussion. We really just wanted to make a show that was hilarious and honest, and based on stuff that’s happened to the writers in the room. I will always fight for the right to be silly, to be messy, to make mistakes. I don’t want us to get to a place where we aren’t showing characters being human.You were a podcaster, and your character podcasts, too. Is the podcast in the show a version of “2 Dope Queens” or your other show, “Sooo Many White Guys”?It’s invented for the show. But this idea of, “Yeah, I have a podcast that’s successful and I don’t have any money in the bank,” that’s ripped from the headlines, as they say on “Law & Order.” I really just wanted to have fun with it. I love podcasting so much; it’s such a great medium. It’s oversaturated now, so I’m glad that I was able to do it when I did.You’ve joked about being a “melanated Carrie Bradshaw.” But on “And Just Like That,” Carrie Bradshaw has a podcast now. So is she actually the white you?She’s doing her thing. I’m doing my thing. But when I saw that, I was like, Oh, that’s a cute evolution for her character and also feels true to life that she would — I love that I’m talking about her like she’s a real person — that she would be a podcaster now.“I will always fight for the right to be silly, to be messy, to make mistakes,” Robinson said.Donavon Smallwood for The New York TimesA lot of shows that are set in New York aren’t made in New York. This one is. And Brooklyn looks great in it. Why was that important?I’ve been here since I moved out at 17 to go to college, and I really fought for the show to be shot here. Initially, there was some discussion of like, “Maybe we could do it in L.A. on soundstages …” and I was like: “No, no, no. New York is in its DNA.” I’ve lived in Crown Heights, Kensington, Clinton Hill, all those areas. I love all those areas. I want to show actual Brooklyn, not just the parts that have been gentrified.Is there a message you want people to take away from the show?I just want people to embrace where they’re at. We’re always so focused on, Oh, I have to get this next thing and I need to improve in this way. This is a celebration of people who aren’t in a rush to change who they are. They’re just like: “OK, this is who I am. This is my truth. This is my journey.” I hope that when people watch, they laugh a lot, but then maybe apply a little bit of that to themselves.You’re going to see different kinds of Blackness, you’re going to see beautiful Brooklyn, you’re going to see people make mistakes and try to figure [expletive] out and hopefully get more things right than wrong. People just get so down on themselves because they think they’re not doing enough or they’re failing in some way. And I’m like, You’re doing fine.One of the things I really fought for: I didn’t want it to be like, Oh, Phoebe’s so messy, and then by the end, she’s going to settle down, move to Connecticut, have kids. I don’t know how her journey is going to end, and she doesn’t either, and I think that’s OK.I look at you now: You have a production company, a publishing imprint, an apartment with color-coordinated bookshelves, a Peloton. Are you still trash?A Peloton doesn’t make you Mother Teresa. Come on! I’m always 10 to 15 minutes late for stuff. I can be stubborn. I can be forgetful sometimes. Of course I’m trash. Listen, everyone’s trash. M.L.K. Jr. was trash. Let’s be real. He was great. He did a lot of great things. He was also trash. More

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      Adam Scott on His First Emmy Nomination for ‘Severance’

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      Scott earned first Emmy nomination on Tuesday, for best actor in drama for “Severance.”To stay afloat and avoid disappointment, Adam Scott said he doesn’t anticipate big nominations. It’s a healthier state of mind, he said, and he’s become accustomed to not hearing his name called.“I did not think I was going to be nominated,” he said. “I was just trying to focus on everyone else and take a walk and put it out of my head.”After learning he received an Emmy nomination for best actor in the Apple TV+ drama “Severance,” Scott said it was an honor to be named next to actors like Brian Cox, nominated for “Succession,” and Jason Bateman, nominated for “Ozark.”“Severance,” which is also nominated for best drama, presents an eerie picture of workplace culture in which employees of an enigmatic, vaguely sinister corporation named Lumon Industries undergo a surgical procedure that severs their work memories from their personal memories, in an effort to keep company secrets confidential. Scott plays Mark Scout, who after losing his wife, Gemma (played by Dichen Lachman), in a car accident, substitutes monotonous shifts pocketing numbers into digital boxes at Lumon for proper healing.In a phone interview on Tuesday, Scott discussed the show’s cliffhanger ending and how he used a personal loss to build his character. These are edited excerpts from that conversation.Where were you when you first heard of the nomination?I was in the middle of walking the dogs when I got the phone call and was surprised and just couldn’t be more flattered and honored. It was really a unique feeling, to say the least.Why do you think the show was so successful?It’s a good question because when we were making it, we, if not daily, very often would stop and look at each other and just be like, “This is really [expletive] weird. Is anyone going to connect with it?” We didn’t know, and then we would just kind of shrug our shoulders and put our heads down and keep going.What were the most challenging scenes for you to film?I was going through a grieving process, because my mom had died before I went out to New York. I walked into that apartment and realized I wasn’t done grieving at all, because my family kind of cushioned me from this at home. And that’s what love is for in a lot of ways, is to help you through a process like that, and we were locked down in Los Angeles so I was able to kind of make it through. But then I got to New York six months later, closed the door and I was by myself and I realized immediately I was not done absorbing this loss. The show was right there, and so I processed my grief through the show.What does “Severance” hope to teach about how to cope with grief?For outtie Mark, that’s what the season was about: grief, and how is he going to handle it? And is he going to handle it? Or is he going to continue pushing it away? And I was asking myself the same question. So, I decided to deal with it, but deal with it along with Mark.There’s a scene where I’m on the side of the road where my wife had a car accident in the show, and we just happened to shoot that scene on the one-year anniversary of my mom passing away. It was just a sheer coincidence. But I was kind of carrying it around with me all day and trying not to kind of zero in on it. It really, again, helped me with my grieving process.What does the show aim to tell viewers about how to manage what happens at work and what happens at home, particularly amid a pandemic when many people have had to work remotely?Work is something that you do to achieve one thing or another. A job is a place where you go, if you can define it like that, and I think people started re-evaluating their relationship with those things. I think we all found out that home and your life, and your life at work, they all started to blend into sort of one thing.How did the cast and the director Ben Stiller compose the last moments of the season finale?The moment where I call Mrs. Selvig “Ms. Cobel” accidentally — while we were shooting, I remember saying to Patricia [Arquette] and Ben, “OK if we have them, if they care at this point in the final episode, if we’ve laid the bread crumbs properly, this moment is going to be so fun and so huge.”But that’s a delicate process, getting to the point where that actually has impact. It’s not easy to put it all together so that actually happens. It could just as easily be a shrug if you’re not invested in the characters or the story or whatever. So, hearing that people threw things at their television or got up and walked out of the room or just screamed at the end of Episode 9 is delightful. We really had no idea if anyone would care. More

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      in Music

      Adam Wade, Network Game Show Pioneer, Is Dead at 87

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      As a singer, he had three Top 10 hits in 1961. As an actor, he had a long career in film and on television. As an M.C., he broke a racial barrier.Adam Wade, a versatile, velvet-voiced crooner who scored three consecutive Billboard Top 10 hits in a single year, appeared in scores of films, plays and TV productions, and in 1975 became the first Black host of a network television game show, died on Thursday at his home in Montclair, N.J. He was 87.His wife, Jeree Wade, a singer, actress and producer, said the cause was complications of Parkinson’s disease.In May 1975, CBS announced that it would break a network television racial barrier by naming Mr. Wade the master of ceremonies of a weekly afternoon game show, “Musical Chairs.”Staged at the Ed Sullivan Theater in Manhattan and co-produced by the music impresario Don Kirshner, the program featured guest musical performances, with four contestants competing to complete the lyrics of songs and respond to questions about music. (Among the guest performers were groups like the Spinners and singers like Irene Cara.)The novelty of a Black M.C. was not universally embraced: A CBS affiliate in Alabama refused to carry the show, and hate mail poured in — including, Mr. Wade told Connecticut Public Radio in 2014, a letter from a man “saying he didn’t want his wife sitting at home watching the Black guy hand out the money and the smarts.”The show was canceled after less than five months. Still, Mr. Wade said, “It probably added 30 years to my career.”That career began while he was working as a laboratory technician for Dr. Jonas E. Salk, the developer of the polio vaccine, and a songwriter friend invited him to New York to audition for a music publisher. He first recorded for Coed Records in 1958 and two years later moved to Manhattan, where he performed with the singer Freddy Cole, the brother of his idol Nat King Cole, and, rapidly ascending the show business ladder, opened for Tony Bennett and for the comedian Joe E. Lewis at the fashionable Copacabana nightclub.“Two years ago, he was Patrick Henry Wade, a $65-a-week aide on virus research experiments in the laboratory of Dr. Jonas E. Salk at the University of Pittsburgh,” The New York Times wrote in 1961. “Today he is Adam Wade, one of the country’s rising young singers in nightclubs and on records.”That same year, he recorded three songs that soared to the upper echelons of the Billboard Hot 100 chart: “Take Good Care of Her” (which reached No. 7), “The Writing on the Wall” (No. 5) and “As if I Didn’t Know” (No. 10).Patrick Henry Wade was born on March 17, 1935, in Pittsburgh to Pauline Simpson and Henry Oliver Wade Jr. He was raised by his grandparents, Henry Wade, a janitor at the Mellon Institute of Industrial Research (now part of Carnegie Mellon University), and Helen Wade.He attended Virginia State University on a basketball scholarship, but, although he had dreamed of playing for the Harlem Globetrotters, dropped out after three years and went to work at Dr. Salk’s laboratory at the University of Pittsburgh. Undecided about whether to accept the recording contract that Coed offered, Mr. Wade consulted Dr. Salk.“He told me he had this opportunity,” Dr. Salk told The Times at the time. “I told him he must search his own soul to find out what is in him that wants to come out.”He changed his first name — because his agent said there were too many Pats in show business — and had his first hit with the song “Ruby” early in 1960. His smooth vocal style was often compared to that of Johnny Mathis, but Mr. Wade said he was primarily influenced by an earlier boyhood idol, Nat King Cole.“So I guess that tells you how good my imitating skills were,” he said.He appeared on TV on soap operas including “The Guiding Light” and “Search for Tomorrow” and sitcoms including “The Jeffersons” and “Sanford & Son.” He was also seen in “Shaft” (1971), “Come Back Charleston Blue” (1972) and other films, and onstage in a 2008 touring company of “The Color Purple.”He and his wife ran Songbird, a company that produced African American historical revues, including the musical “Shades of Harlem,” which was staged Off Broadway at the Village Gate in 1983.The couple last performed at an anniversary party this year.In addition to Ms. Wade, whom he married in 1989, he is survived by their son, Jamel, a documentary filmmaker; three children, Sheldon Wade, Patrice Johnson Wade and Michael Wade, from his marriage to Kay Wade, which ended in 1973; and several grandchildren and great-grandchildren.For all his success in show business, Mr. Wade said he was particularly proud that 40 years after dropping out of college he earned a bachelor’s degree from Lehman College and a master’s in theater history and criticism from Brooklyn College, both constituents of the City University of New York. He taught speech and theater at Long Island University and at Bloomfield College in New Jersey.“I was the first one in my family to go to college,” he told Connecticut Public Radio. “I promised my grandmother back then that I would finish college someday. Many years later, I kept that promise.” More