MS Dhoni remains a big name in world cricket. The former Indian captain had an amazing career at the highest level, ending with a total of 17,266 runs, 16 centuries, 829 dismissals, 359 sixes. He also signed&nbsp;off as the only skipper to win all three major ICC titles (to date).&nbsp;

In early 2018, Dhoni -- who was an active cricketer back then --&nbsp;received the Padma Bhushan award (India's third-highest&nbsp;civilian award). The wicketkeeper-batter&nbsp;also holds the rank of Honorary Lieutenant Colonel and, hence, wore his official uniform of the Territorial Army for the award ceremony. He was accompanied by his life partner Sakshi during the prestigious award ceremony at Rashtrapati Bhavan, New Delhi. Here's the video of Dhoni&nbsp;marching past the various dignitaries present during the function before receiving the top honour from President Ram Nath Kovind:

ALSO READ |&nbsp;<a href="https://www.wionews.com/sports/throwback-when-kapil-dev-mankanded-peter-kirsten-during-indias-1992-tour-of-sa-watch-438727">THROWBACK: When Kapil Dev mankanded Peter Kirsten during India's 1992 tour of SA - WATCH</a>

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Dhoni receiving padma Bhushan <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/2Point0?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#2Point0</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/kaala?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#kaala</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/BharatAneNenu?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#BharatAneNenu</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/NaaPeruSurya?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#NaaPeruSurya</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Rangasthalam?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Rangasthalam</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/BajrangiBhaijaan?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#BajrangiBhaijaan</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/saaho?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#saaho</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Raid?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Raid</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/race3?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#race3</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/zero?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#zero</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/thugsofhindostan?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#thugsofhindostan</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/dhoni?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#dhoni</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Thalapathy62?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Thalapathy62</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Viswasam?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Viswasam</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Suriya37?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Suriya37</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/NGK?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#NGK</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/RRR?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#RRR</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/NOTA?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#NOTA</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Padmaavat?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Padmaavat</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/GOLD?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#GOLD</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/CSK?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#CSK</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/October?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#October</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Baaghi2?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Baaghi2</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/IPL?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#IPL</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/IPL2018?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#IPL2018</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/IPL11?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#IPL11</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/kesari?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#kesari</a> <a href="https://t.co/cAq3UKO2CQ">pic.twitter.com/cAq3UKO2CQ</a>
— Dhoni's Fan (@himatej7) <a href="https://twitter.com/himatej7/status/980803198188474369?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">April 2, 2018</a></blockquote>
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ALSO READ |&nbsp;<a href="https://www.wionews.com/photos/simply-mindboggling-from-virat-kohli-ms-dhoni-to-ab-de-villiers-top-5-earners-in-ipl-history-443658#ms-dhoni---inr-152-billion-443644">SIMPLY MINDBOGGLING! From Virat Kohli, MS Dhoni to AB de Villiers: Top 5 earners in IPL history</a>

For the unversed, Dhoni received the Padma Bhushan on April 2, 2018; being the seventh anniversary of India's historic ODI World Cup win. Under Dhoni, India had become the first-ever host country to win the 50-over World Cup.

Dhoni continues to remain active in IPL and will now gear upto represent the Chennai Super Kings (CSK) in the forthcoming 2022 edition, to be held in India from late March to May. Dhoni-led CSK are the defending champions, having won the IPL for the fourth time during the last year's edition.

MS Dhoni remains a big name in world cricket. The former Indian captain had an amazing career at the highest level, ending with a total of 17,266 runs, 16 centuries, 829 dismissals, 359 sixes.

MS Dhoni remains a big name in world cricket. The former Indian captain had an amazing career at the highest level, ending with a total of 17,266 runs, 16 centuries, 829 dismissals, 359 sixes. He also signed off as the only skipper to win all three major ICC titles (to date). In early 2018, Dhoni -- who was an active cricketer back then -- received the Padma Bhushan award (India's third-highest civilian award). The wicketkeeper-batter also holds the rank of Honorary Lieutenant Colonel and, hence, wore his official uniform of the Territorial Army for the award ceremony. He was accompanied by his life partner Sakshi during the prestigious award ceremony at Rashtrapati Bhavan, New Delhi. Here's the video of Dhoni marching past the various dignitaries present during the function before receiving the top honour from President Ram Nath Kovind: ALSO READ | THROWBACK: When Kapil Dev mankanded Peter Kirsten during India's 1992 tour of SA - WATCH Dhoni receiving padma Bhushan #2Point0 #kaala #BharatAneNenu #NaaPeruSurya #Rangasthalam #BajrangiBhaijaan #saaho #Raid #race3 #zero #thugsofhindostan #dhoni #Thalapathy62 #Viswasam #Suriya37 #NGK #RRR #NOTA #Padmaavat #GOLD #CSK #October #Baaghi2 #IPL #IPL2018 #IPL11 #kesari pic.twitter.com/cAq3UKO2CQ — Dhoni's Fan (@himatej7) April 2, 2018 × ALSO READ | SIMPLY MINDBOGGLING! From Virat Kohli, MS Dhoni to AB de Villiers: Top 5 earners in IPL history For the unversed, Dhoni received the Padma Bhushan on April 2, 2018; being the seventh anniversary of India's historic ODI World Cup win. Under Dhoni, India had become the first-ever host country to win the 50-over World Cup. Dhoni continues to remain active in IPL and will now gear upto represent the Chennai Super Kings (CSK) in the forthcoming 2022 edition, to be held in India from late March to May. Dhoni-led CSK are the defending champions, having won the IPL for the fourth time during the last year's edition.

THROWBACK: When MS Dhoni received Padma Bhushan award from President Ram Nath Kovind in 2018 - Watch

Amit Goenka, one of India’s eminent business leaders and President of Digital Businesses &amp; Platforms, ZEE Entertainment Enterprises Limited (ZEEL),&nbsp; was conferred with the prestigious 21st Century Icon Awards on Saturday.

The award was received on behalf of Amit Goenka by Parul Goel, ZEE Network UK’s Business Head.

A winner in the Outstanding Media &amp; Entertainment Award category, Goenka is credited with pioneering the digital business at ZEE.

He has been instrumental in spearheading the growth of ZEE5, the one-stop digital destination for entertainment content and catapulting the company into its next phase of growth, by aggressively expanding its footprint in the international arena and driving data and technology to build a truly robust consumer experience across digital screens.

On receiving the coveted award, Goenka said, “I am extremely honoured to be a part of the prestigious 21st Century Icon Awards and I would like to thank the jury members for their consideration. Winning in the Outstanding Media &amp; Entertainment category is not just a recognition of our success, it is a firm testament of the consistent hard work put in by our teams. Together, we have built the digital businesses and platforms of ZEE Entertainment to beat the forefront of ushering in the next era of entertainment for new-age consumers across connected devices.”

“At ZEE, our sharp focus is on creating engaging content supported by parallel investments in technology and talent, leading to a robust offering and delightful consumer experiences across languages. I am confident that our digital businesses are well poised for immense success in the future and acknowledgements like the 21st Century Icon Awards will further fuel our passion and the strife for higher growth and success going forward.”

Organised by Squared Watermelon Ltd., the esteemed 21st Century Icon Awards aim to support and promote the next generation of inspiring leaders as well as offer them a platform to showcase their achievements in their respective fields.

Tarun Gulati , President &amp; Chief Executive Officer and Preeti Rana, &nbsp;Chief Creative Officer—Co-founders of Squared Watermelon Ltd— lauded Goenka for the achievement and said that he is a role model for the next generation of leaders.

“Every year, at the 21st Century Icon Awards, we endeavour to appreciate and bring forth the next generation of business leaders who have played a major role in transforming their Company. Mr. Amit Goenka is a prolific business personality who is a role model for the next generation of leaders, and it is our honour to recognise his contribution to the business fraternity and add his name to our prestigious list of past winners.”

Amit Goenka, one of India’s eminent business leaders and President of Digital Businesses & Platforms, ZEE Entertainment Enterprises Limited (ZEEL), was conferred with the prestigious 21st Century Icon Awards on Saturday.

Amit Goenka, one of India’s eminent business leaders and President of Digital Businesses & Platforms, ZEE Entertainment Enterprises Limited (ZEEL), was conferred with the prestigious 21st Century Icon Awards on Saturday. The award was received on behalf of Amit Goenka by Parul Goel, ZEE Network UK’s Business Head. A winner in the Outstanding Media & Entertainment Award category, Goenka is credited with pioneering the digital business at ZEE. He has been instrumental in spearheading the growth of ZEE5, the one-stop digital destination for entertainment content and catapulting the company into its next phase of growth, by aggressively expanding its footprint in the international arena and driving data and technology to build a truly robust consumer experience across digital screens. On receiving the coveted award, Goenka said, “I am extremely honoured to be a part of the prestigious 21st Century Icon Awards and I would like to thank the jury members for their consideration. Winning in the Outstanding Media & Entertainment category is not just a recognition of our success, it is a firm testament of the consistent hard work put in by our teams. Together, we have built the digital businesses and platforms of ZEE Entertainment to beat the forefront of ushering in the next era of entertainment for new-age consumers across connected devices.” “At ZEE, our sharp focus is on creating engaging content supported by parallel investments in technology and talent, leading to a robust offering and delightful consumer experiences across languages. I am confident that our digital businesses are well poised for immense success in the future and acknowledgements like the 21st Century Icon Awards will further fuel our passion and the strife for higher growth and success going forward.” Organised by Squared Watermelon Ltd., the esteemed 21st Century Icon Awards aim to support and promote the next generation of inspiring leaders as well as offer them a platform to showcase their achievements in their respective fields. Tarun Gulati , President & Chief Executive Officer and Preeti Rana, Chief Creative Officer—Co-founders of Squared Watermelon Ltd— lauded Goenka for the achievement and said that he is a role model for the next generation of leaders. “Every year, at the 21st Century Icon Awards, we endeavour to appreciate and bring forth the next generation of business leaders who have played a major role in transforming their Company. Mr. Amit Goenka is a prolific business personality who is a role model for the next generation of leaders, and it is our honour to recognise his contribution to the business fraternity and add his name to our prestigious list of past winners.”

ZEE’s Amit Goenka felicitated with the 21st Century Icon Awards at House of Lords

In pics | Funny finalists from comedy pet show awards 2021

Drake holds the top spot on the Billboard album chart for a third week with “Certified Lover Boy,” while Lil Nas X starts at No. 2.

“Certified Lover Boy,” which had arrived on the chart with the biggest opening-week numbers in over a year, has since cooled down a little. In its third week out, it had 222 million streams in the United States and sold about 4,000 copies as a complete package; altogether, it was credited with the equivalent of 171,000 sales, according to MRC Data, a tracking service owned by Billboard’s parent company.

Those numbers let “Certified Lover Boy” hold the top spot by a comfortable margin. Over its three weeks out, the album has logged the equivalent of just over 1 million sales in the United States, including nearly 1.3 billion streams. Since the arrival of “Thank Me Later” in 2010, a Drake title has been No. 1 on the weekly Billboard 200 album chart 30 times.

Drake’s closest competitor this week was “Montero” by Lil Nas X, the rapper and meme virtuoso whose “country-trap” song “Old Town Road” was a chart-busting phenomenon two years ago, notching a record 19 weeks at No. 1. In its opening week, “Montero” had the equivalent of 126,000 sales, including 147 million streams, landing at second place.

<a href="https://www.wionews.com/entertainment/hollywood/news-will-smith-reveals-hes-been-in-relationships-outside-marriage-addresses-jada-pinkett-smiths-affair-with-august-alsina-416502" hreflang="en">Will Smith reveals he's been in relationships outside marriage</a>

With 15 songs, “Montero” — which features guest spots by Elton John, Megan Thee Stallion, Doja Cat and Miley Cyrus — is Lil Nas X’s first official LP, after “7,” an eight-track EP released in 2019, at the height of the “Old Town Road” craze. (Still, it was nominated for album of the year at the Grammys.) “7” also peaked at No. 2 on the album chart.&nbsp;<a href="https://www.wionews.com/entertainment/bts-make-record-with-historic-number-of-album-copies-sold-in-japan-416587">BTS make record with historic number of album copies sold in Japan</a>

The other big debut this week is “Sticker” by NCT 127, a “sub-unit” of the 23-man K-pop group NCT. “Sticker” opens at No. 3 with the equivalent of 62,000 sales, mostly from copies sold as a complete package, like CD boxed sets. Its 11 songs had 4.7 million streams in the United States.

<a href="https://www.wionews.com/entertainment/the-morning-show-remakes-itself-again-416580" hreflang="en">'The Morning Show' remakes itself. Again.</a>

Kanye West’s “Donda” is No. 4 and Olivia Rodrigo’s “Sour” is No. 5.

Drake holds the top spot on the Billboard album chart for a third week with “Certified Lover Boy,” while Lil Nas X starts at No. 2. “Certified Lover Boy,” which had arrived on the chart with the biggest opening-week numbers in over a year, has since cooled down a little.

Drake holds the top spot on the Billboard album chart for a third week with “Certified Lover Boy,” while Lil Nas X starts at No. 2. “Certified Lover Boy,” which had arrived on the chart with the biggest opening-week numbers in over a year, has since cooled down a little. In its third week out, it had 222 million streams in the United States and sold about 4,000 copies as a complete package; altogether, it was credited with the equivalent of 171,000 sales, according to MRC Data, a tracking service owned by Billboard’s parent company. Those numbers let “Certified Lover Boy” hold the top spot by a comfortable margin. Over its three weeks out, the album has logged the equivalent of just over 1 million sales in the United States, including nearly 1.3 billion streams. Since the arrival of “Thank Me Later” in 2010, a Drake title has been No. 1 on the weekly Billboard 200 album chart 30 times. Drake’s closest competitor this week was “Montero” by Lil Nas X, the rapper and meme virtuoso whose “country-trap” song “Old Town Road” was a chart-busting phenomenon two years ago, notching a record 19 weeks at No. 1. In its opening week, “Montero” had the equivalent of 126,000 sales, including 147 million streams, landing at second place. Will Smith reveals he's been in relationships outside marriage With 15 songs, “Montero” — which features guest spots by Elton John, Megan Thee Stallion, Doja Cat and Miley Cyrus — is Lil Nas X’s first official LP, after “7,” an eight-track EP released in 2019, at the height of the “Old Town Road” craze. (Still, it was nominated for album of the year at the Grammys.) “7” also peaked at No. 2 on the album chart. BTS make record with historic number of album copies sold in Japan The other big debut this week is “Sticker” by NCT 127, a “sub-unit” of the 23-man K-pop group NCT. “Sticker” opens at No. 3 with the equivalent of 62,000 sales, mostly from copies sold as a complete package, like CD boxed sets. Its 11 songs had 4.7 million streams in the United States. 'The Morning Show' remakes itself. Again. Kanye West’s “Donda” is No. 4 and Olivia Rodrigo’s “Sour” is No. 5.

Lil Nas X’s ‘Montero’ debuts at no. 2, while Drake holds at the top

The foundation that organises the Nobel Prizes said Thursday that for the second year in a row, the winners in science and literature would receive their awards in their home countries, citing the COVID-19 pandemic.

The foundation added that a decision on the Peace Prize, which is traditionally awarded in Norway, had not been made yet.

The Nobel Committee "is still keeping open the possibility of welcoming this year's Nobel Peace Prize laureate (s) to Oslo," it said.

It is to announce the format of the Oslo ceremony by mid-October.&nbsp;

"I think everybody would like the COVID-19 pandemic to be over, but we are not there yet," Vidar Helgesen, Executive Director of the Nobel Foundation, said in a statement.

"Uncertainty about the course of the pandemic and international travel possibilities is the reason why the 2021 laureates will receive their medals and diplomas in their home countries," he continued.

The winners are announced in early October but are usually handed out at large, lavish ceremonies in the two Scandinavian capitals on December 10, the anniversary of the death of the prizes' founder Alfred Nobel who died 1896.

Last year, the foundation also decided to give out the science and literature prizes in the laureates' respective home countries due to the travel restrictions imposed over the pandemic.

The prizes for science are in medicine, chemistry and physics.

Like in 2020, the 2021 ceremonies "will be a mixture of digital and physical events," the foundation said.

The Nobel Prizes, which this year celebrate their 120th anniversary since the first awards in 1901, will be announced between 4 and 11 October.

Medicine will be announced on Monday, followed by physics the next day and chemistry on Wednesday, October 6.

The highly anticipated literature and peace prizes will be announced on Thursday and Friday respectively, followed by the economics prize created by Sweden's central bank on the following Monday.

The foundation that organises the Nobel Prizes said Thursday that for the second year in a row, the winners in science and literature would receive their awards in their home countries, citing the COVID-19 pandemic.

The foundation that organises the Nobel Prizes said Thursday that for the second year in a row, the winners in science and literature would receive their awards in their home countries, citing the COVID-19 pandemic. The foundation added that a decision on the Peace Prize, which is traditionally awarded in Norway, had not been made yet. The Nobel Committee "is still keeping open the possibility of welcoming this year's Nobel Peace Prize laureate (s) to Oslo," it said. It is to announce the format of the Oslo ceremony by mid-October. "I think everybody would like the COVID-19 pandemic to be over, but we are not there yet," Vidar Helgesen, Executive Director of the Nobel Foundation, said in a statement. "Uncertainty about the course of the pandemic and international travel possibilities is the reason why the 2021 laureates will receive their medals and diplomas in their home countries," he continued. The winners are announced in early October but are usually handed out at large, lavish ceremonies in the two Scandinavian capitals on December 10, the anniversary of the death of the prizes' founder Alfred Nobel who died 1896. Last year, the foundation also decided to give out the science and literature prizes in the laureates' respective home countries due to the travel restrictions imposed over the pandemic. The prizes for science are in medicine, chemistry and physics. Like in 2020, the 2021 ceremonies "will be a mixture of digital and physical events," the foundation said. The Nobel Prizes, which this year celebrate their 120th anniversary since the first awards in 1901, will be announced between 4 and 11 October. Medicine will be announced on Monday, followed by physics the next day and chemistry on Wednesday, October 6. The highly anticipated literature and peace prizes will be announced on Thursday and Friday respectively, followed by the economics prize created by Sweden's central bank on the following Monday.

Nobel science and literature prizes to be awarded in the winners' home countries

Chinese President Xi Jinping urged Chinese Communist Party members to remain loyal and continue to serve the people, after awarding a new medal of the highest honour to 29 party members on Tuesday. 
 
The party is marking the 100th year of its founding on Thursday, when Xi is expected to make a longer speech about its future. 
 
The medal award ceremony took place in Beijing's Great Hall of the People with much fanfare and was broadcast live on national television. 
 
The 'July 1 medal', announced in 2017 and given out for the first time on Tuesday, is part of Xi's efforts to shore up the image of the party. 
 
Xi commended recipients and urged all party members to "firmly keep the loyalty and love for the party and the people close to one's heart, turn that into action, dedicate everything, even your precious life, to the party and the people". 
 
The recipients included soldiers, community workers and professionals in the arts and science. 
 
The party had 91.9 million members in 2019, or 6.6% of China's population. 
 
(With inputs from agencies)

Chinese President Xi Jinping urged Chinese Communist Party members to remain loyal and continue to serve the people, after awarding a new medal of the highest honour to 29 party members on Tuesday.

Chinese President Xi Jinping urged Chinese Communist Party members to remain loyal and continue to serve the people, after awarding a new medal of the highest honour to 29 party members on Tuesday. The party is marking the 100th year of its founding on Thursday, when Xi is expected to make a longer speech about its future. The medal award ceremony took place in Beijing's Great Hall of the People with much fanfare and was broadcast live on national television. The 'July 1 medal', announced in 2017 and given out for the first time on Tuesday, is part of Xi's efforts to shore up the image of the party. Xi commended recipients and urged all party members to "firmly keep the loyalty and love for the party and the people close to one's heart, turn that into action, dedicate everything, even your precious life, to the party and the people". The recipients included soldiers, community workers and professionals in the arts and science. The party had 91.9 million members in 2019, or 6.6% of China's population. (With inputs from agencies)

Chinese Communist Party awards medals in run-up to anniversary

Priyanka Chopra, James McAvoy and Tom Hiddleston were among the stars who arrived on a pared-back British Academy of Film and Television Awards (BAFTA) red carpet ahead of the ceremony airing on Sunday (April 11).

Priyanka Chopra, Tom Hiddleston, James McAvoy join stars on pared-back BAFTA red carpet

On Oct. 30, 2015, a fire ripped through a nightclub in the Romanian capital, Bucharest, leaving 64 people dead. Almost six years later, a documentary about the fire and its tragic aftermath has been nominated for two Oscars.

It would be the first Oscar win for the Eastern European country, but the film’s success is bittersweet for many Romanians, given its painful subject matter — particularly since many believe not enough has changed since 2015.

“Collective,” which has been nominated for best documentary feature and best foreign film, follows a group of investigative journalists from a sports newspaper as they uncover painful truths about the Romanian health care system.

“The situation was so appalling that basically it should have been a big scandal in the whole of Europe,” said Alexander Nanau, the film’s director.

Events on the night of the fire and its immediate aftermath ricocheted across Romania, toppling the government at the time — led by the Social Democratic Party — and mobilizing civil society into large-scale protests.

In the years since, however, there have been further political scandals, and few health care overhauls. The coronavirus pandemic has also put huge new demands on the struggling Romanian health care system. Two fires in COVID-19 wards in the last six months have left at least 20 people dead.

Many Romanians wonder how much has really changed since “Collective.”

While tragic, the nightclub fire is just the film’s starting point. The blaze claimed 27 lives in its immediate aftermath, but 64 people would ultimately die, many victims of a health care system awash with corruption and willing to hide painful truth from the victims and their families.

Standing outside one of Bucharest’s main hospitals, Nanau recalled: “It was basically in front of this hospital where the minister of health always stood flanked by doctors saying ‘We can treat the burn victims at the highest standards.’”

However, as the journalists found out, the burn unit was not even operational at the time, Nanau said. “It’s incredible that they have the guts to lie to all these people that their kids are being given surgery in the most modern burn unit when in fact this was closed.”

The journalists also discovered that the disinfectant used in hospitals across the country was being watered down, to the extent that it was largely ineffectual, probably resulting in many more deaths. The owner of the company involved drove his car into a tree after the truth was brought to light, killing himself.

The documentary shows in real time the reaction of the journalists after a whistleblower sends them footage from a hospital of maggots crawling in the wound of a burn victim.

The film has been compared to both “Spotlight” and “All the President’s Men,” and in a review for The New York Times late last year, Manohla Dargis described “Collective” as a “staggering documentary” that offered “no moment when you can take an easy breath, assured that the terrible things you’ve been watching onscreen are finally over.”

For people in Romania, however, much of what is shown onscreen is painfully familiar.

Catalin Tolontan, then editor-in-chief of the daily newspaper Gazeta Sporturilor, is one of the main protagonists of “Collective.” Before the documentary, “We used to receive 10 or 15 messages per day from the public, with scoops or information,” he said in an interview. “After the movie we received 70 to 80 a day.”

Tedy Ursuleanu, who suffered severe burns across her head and body, and had her fingers amputated as a result of the fire, is one of the strongest characters in the film.

In an interview, she said that it was not a hard decision to let the filmmakers follow her, but that seeing the film was a painful experience. “When I saw some of the scenes, the impact was as if I lived those moments again,” Ursuleanu said. “I started to cry. I needed to go outside to compose myself.”

Ursuleanu said she believed that not enough progress had been made in the years since the documentary was filmed. “Changes have taken place, but they are few compared to the needs we have here,” she said. “Sadly, tragedies like this could easily happen again, because even now measures are not respected.”

Partway through the documentary, “Collective” introduces a young, reform-minded health minister, Vlad Voiculescu, who is brought in as part of a short-lived technocrat government.

Voiculescu and his team face strong resistance as they try to bring greater transparency to the health care system, while having to accept that the system was culpable in many deaths.

In a recent interview, Voiculescu, who was reappointed as health minister late last year, said that what frustrated him most was that on his return he found an institution that was “even more collapsed than before.” Now, Voiculescu is more focused on dealing with the coronavirus than overhauling the Romanian health care system.

“Collective,” which appeared on streaming platforms late last year, has resonated strongly with audiences around the world, especially at a time when the pandemic has made health care a central issue globally.

Nanau, a Romanian director who spent much of his life in Germany before moving back to his home country in 2015, has a track record of producing powerful documentaries. His previous film, “Toto and His Sisters,” followed the lives of three teenagers left to fend largely for themselves in one of the poorest areas of Bucharest, after their mother was sent to prison on drug charges.

But with “Collective,” he seems to have found a subject that hit at a perfect moment.

The film’s impact has also been felt outside Romania. Earlier this year in Mongolia, when a woman with COVID-19 was transferred from the hospital in freezing temperatures just days after giving birth, journalists began asking tough questions of the government, apparently encouraging one another on Facebook by referencing “Collective,” which a local television station had shown days earlier. Protests followed, and the government ultimately resigned.

“If you are a journalist in a small country and saw ‘Spotlight,’ you could say, ‘Well, this is the U.S., they have a lot of resources, they have a strong democracy, they have a bond between the public and government,’” Tolontan, the newspaper editor, said. “But if you are in Mongolia or the Czech Republic, Indonesia, and you saw this movie, you think ‘They’re like us.’”

Romanian movies like “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days,” “Beyond the Hills” and “Child’s Pose” have received top awards at international festivals over the years, but none has won an Oscar.

Andrei Gorzo, a Romanian film critic, said that it was harder for Romanian viewers to see “Collective” as a morally clear-cut tale of a few good people fighting to change the rotten system. Instead, he said, it captures a specific moment in Romania, when urban, middle-class voters believed in a new breed of politician, young and unsullied, who could clean up Romanian politics. “It is impossible for me to watch the film without acknowledging that a lot of that romanticism has turned sour since then,” he said.

Others are more optimistic. “The generation that will change things here is not the generation that is 35-plus,” Nanau said. “It’s the younger generation, and these are the people that write to us, that we have met in the cinemas.”

Tolontan said he saw “Collective” as “a point of no return” for Romanian society.

Whether the film wins at the Oscars ceremony next month, many Romanians still hope that the film’s biggest impact will be at home, and that they can leave its content in the past.

On Oct. 30, 2015, a fire ripped through a nightclub in the Romanian capital, Bucharest, leaving 64 people dead. Almost six years later, a documentary about the fire and its tragic aftermath has been nominated for two Oscars.

On Oct. 30, 2015, a fire ripped through a nightclub in the Romanian capital, Bucharest, leaving 64 people dead. Almost six years later, a documentary about the fire and its tragic aftermath has been nominated for two Oscars. It would be the first Oscar win for the Eastern European country, but the film’s success is bittersweet for many Romanians, given its painful subject matter — particularly since many believe not enough has changed since 2015. “Collective,” which has been nominated for best documentary feature and best foreign film, follows a group of investigative journalists from a sports newspaper as they uncover painful truths about the Romanian health care system. “The situation was so appalling that basically it should have been a big scandal in the whole of Europe,” said Alexander Nanau, the film’s director. Events on the night of the fire and its immediate aftermath ricocheted across Romania, toppling the government at the time — led by the Social Democratic Party — and mobilizing civil society into large-scale protests. In the years since, however, there have been further political scandals, and few health care overhauls. The coronavirus pandemic has also put huge new demands on the struggling Romanian health care system. Two fires in COVID-19 wards in the last six months have left at least 20 people dead. Many Romanians wonder how much has really changed since “Collective.” While tragic, the nightclub fire is just the film’s starting point. The blaze claimed 27 lives in its immediate aftermath, but 64 people would ultimately die, many victims of a health care system awash with corruption and willing to hide painful truth from the victims and their families. Standing outside one of Bucharest’s main hospitals, Nanau recalled: “It was basically in front of this hospital where the minister of health always stood flanked by doctors saying ‘We can treat the burn victims at the highest standards.’” However, as the journalists found out, the burn unit was not even operational at the time, Nanau said. “It’s incredible that they have the guts to lie to all these people that their kids are being given surgery in the most modern burn unit when in fact this was closed.” The journalists also discovered that the disinfectant used in hospitals across the country was being watered down, to the extent that it was largely ineffectual, probably resulting in many more deaths. The owner of the company involved drove his car into a tree after the truth was brought to light, killing himself. The documentary shows in real time the reaction of the journalists after a whistleblower sends them footage from a hospital of maggots crawling in the wound of a burn victim. The film has been compared to both “Spotlight” and “All the President’s Men,” and in a review for The New York Times late last year, Manohla Dargis described “Collective” as a “staggering documentary” that offered “no moment when you can take an easy breath, assured that the terrible things you’ve been watching onscreen are finally over.” For people in Romania, however, much of what is shown onscreen is painfully familiar. Catalin Tolontan, then editor-in-chief of the daily newspaper Gazeta Sporturilor, is one of the main protagonists of “Collective.” Before the documentary, “We used to receive 10 or 15 messages per day from the public, with scoops or information,” he said in an interview. “After the movie we received 70 to 80 a day.” Tedy Ursuleanu, who suffered severe burns across her head and body, and had her fingers amputated as a result of the fire, is one of the strongest characters in the film. In an interview, she said that it was not a hard decision to let the filmmakers follow her, but that seeing the film was a painful experience. “When I saw some of the scenes, the impact was as if I lived those moments again,” Ursuleanu said. “I started to cry. I needed to go outside to compose myself.” Ursuleanu said she believed that not enough progress had been made in the years since the documentary was filmed. “Changes have taken place, but they are few compared to the needs we have here,” she said. “Sadly, tragedies like this could easily happen again, because even now measures are not respected.” Partway through the documentary, “Collective” introduces a young, reform-minded health minister, Vlad Voiculescu, who is brought in as part of a short-lived technocrat government. Voiculescu and his team face strong resistance as they try to bring greater transparency to the health care system, while having to accept that the system was culpable in many deaths. In a recent interview, Voiculescu, who was reappointed as health minister late last year, said that what frustrated him most was that on his return he found an institution that was “even more collapsed than before.” Now, Voiculescu is more focused on dealing with the coronavirus than overhauling the Romanian health care system. “Collective,” which appeared on streaming platforms late last year, has resonated strongly with audiences around the world, especially at a time when the pandemic has made health care a central issue globally. Nanau, a Romanian director who spent much of his life in Germany before moving back to his home country in 2015, has a track record of producing powerful documentaries. His previous film, “Toto and His Sisters,” followed the lives of three teenagers left to fend largely for themselves in one of the poorest areas of Bucharest, after their mother was sent to prison on drug charges. But with “Collective,” he seems to have found a subject that hit at a perfect moment. The film’s impact has also been felt outside Romania. Earlier this year in Mongolia, when a woman with COVID-19 was transferred from the hospital in freezing temperatures just days after giving birth, journalists began asking tough questions of the government, apparently encouraging one another on Facebook by referencing “Collective,” which a local television station had shown days earlier. Protests followed, and the government ultimately resigned. “If you are a journalist in a small country and saw ‘Spotlight,’ you could say, ‘Well, this is the U.S., they have a lot of resources, they have a strong democracy, they have a bond between the public and government,’” Tolontan, the newspaper editor, said. “But if you are in Mongolia or the Czech Republic, Indonesia, and you saw this movie, you think ‘They’re like us.’” Romanian movies like “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days,” “Beyond the Hills” and “Child’s Pose” have received top awards at international festivals over the years, but none has won an Oscar. Andrei Gorzo, a Romanian film critic, said that it was harder for Romanian viewers to see “Collective” as a morally clear-cut tale of a few good people fighting to change the rotten system. Instead, he said, it captures a specific moment in Romania, when urban, middle-class voters believed in a new breed of politician, young and unsullied, who could clean up Romanian politics. “It is impossible for me to watch the film without acknowledging that a lot of that romanticism has turned sour since then,” he said. Others are more optimistic. “The generation that will change things here is not the generation that is 35-plus,” Nanau said. “It’s the younger generation, and these are the people that write to us, that we have met in the cinemas.” Tolontan said he saw “Collective” as “a point of no return” for Romanian society. Whether the film wins at the Oscars ceremony next month, many Romanians still hope that the film’s biggest impact will be at home, and that they can leave its content in the past.

Since the Oscar-nominated ‘Collective,’ much and little has changed

For her 60th birthday, veteran Korean star Yuh-Jung Youn made herself a promise. She would collaborate only with those she trusts. Even if their ventures fell short, as long as she personally appreciated the people making them, the result wouldn’t much concern her.

That late-life philosophy, born of decades of limited choices and professional trauma, brought her to 'Minari,'&nbsp;director Lee Isaac Chung’s semi-autobiographical story about a Korean family putting down roots in Arkansas. Youn’s bittersweet performance as the grandmother, Soonja, in the tenderhearted immigrant drama has earned her an Academy Award nomination for best supporting actress, the first for a Korean actress.

“Me, a 73-year-old Asian woman could have never even dreamed about being nominated for an Oscar,” Youn said via video call from her home in Seoul. “‘Minari’ brought me a lot of gifts.”

As she recounted this triumph and the many pitfalls that preceded it, her pensive expression often broke into an affable smile, cheerful laughter even. Dressed in a demure black top and long necklace, there was an effortless grace to her serene presence. She came off unhurried and welcoming but determined to make her ideas understood. Occasionally she asked a friend off-camera for help with certain English words to hit each point more precisely.

She expressed surprise at the fact that co-star Steven Yeun was the first Asian American performer to receive a nomination for best actor: “All I can say is: It’s about time! The success of ‘Parasite’ has definitely helped” get more recognition for Korean performers, she said.

That movie, directed by Bong Joon Ho, was the first not in English to win best picture, and it has figured into Youn’s Oscar run in other ways.

She had returned from shooting a new project in Vancouver, British Columbia, an Apple TV drama titled “Pachinko,” just in time to hear the announcement of her nomination. First, she felt numb. Then the Korean news media began effusively reporting on her chances. “It’s very stressful. They think I’m a soccer player or an Olympian,” she said, adding, “That pressure is really hard on me.” Because of Bong’s movie, “they have hope I can win. I keep telling him, ‘It’s all because of you!’”

Bong, a fan of Kim Ki-young’s “Woman of Fire,” the 1971 film in which Youn made her feature debut, envied her awards-season experience during the pandemic. “He told me, ‘You’re lucky you can just sit down and do Zoom calls. In America they have an awards race and you have to go here and there and everywhere.’ I thought running races were only for horses,” she said.

She’s making a strong push to the finish. Youn is nominated at Sunday’s SAG Awards for her performance and as part of the “Minari” ensemble. She’s also up for an Independent Spirit Award later this month. And she’s already won accolades from more than 20 groups of critics.

They’re the latest turn in a career that covers more than 50 years in Korean television and film — including a recent cooking reality show titled “Youn’s Kitchen” and a new nonfiction series set in a guesthouse, “Youn’s Stay” — but the self-taught thespian never envisioned a life in the performing arts. Her international breakthrough seems to her, like everything else along the way, fortuitous.

“It’s embarrassing,” she said. “Most people fell in love with the movies or fell in love with theater. But in my case, it was just an accident.”

When she was a teenager in the early 1960s, an emcee for a children’s game show saw her touring a TV station and invited her to pass out gifts to the audience: “I got the check after that, and it was good money.” Similar jobs ensued until a director suggested she audition for a drama. Although she was hesitant, necessity propelled her: She had failed her college entrance exam, causing her mother profound shame.

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t know what acting was,” she said. “I tried to memorize the line and do whatever they asked me to do. At the time, I didn’t know if I was enjoying it or if I disliked it.”

But as she was on the rise in the mid-1970s, Youn married and moved to Florida, where her husband attended a university. She spent nearly a decade as a housewife raising her two American-born children, but then she divorced and returned to Korea as a single mother. Her fame had vanished, and ingrained sexism in Korean society made resuming her career a cruel pursuit. “The audience would call and say, ‘She is a divorcee. She shouldn’t be on television,’” she recalled, adding, “Now they like me very much. That’s very strange, but that’s human.”

To put her two sons through college, she accepted parts almost indiscriminately. But turning 60 — and no longer obligated to financially support her family — meant she could invest only in people she believed in, such as auteur Hong Sang-soo, who occasionally frustrates her for the many takes he requests, and Im Sang-soo, who cast her in roles unheard of for a Korean actress of her age. In “The Taste of Money” (2013), for example, Youn embodies a powerful woman who sexually harasses her younger male secretary.

Youn’s close friend In-Ah Lee, a producer, introduced her to Chung at a film festival in Busan. Chung, like Bong, revered her in “Woman of Fire,” and his knowledge or her early work impressed her. She wanted to know more about him. “Everybody teases me about this now,” she said. “I fell in love with Isaac because he is a very quiet man. I wish he was my son too.”

In every film, Chung said via email, “she does something that is surprising or unexpected. I felt her own life and approach to life were very close to the part I had written.” He added that the actress is known in South Korea for her big heart and no-nonsense manner, and he knew she would bring those qualities to the “Minari” role “in a way that invites audiences in.”

Writing for The Nation, critic Kristen Yoonsoo Kim said Youn “steals the spotlight; even as she leans toward caricature, her Soonja brings much-needed humor and vitality to a drama that could otherwise sink easily into the dour.” (Kim’s reviews also appear in The New York Times.)

When Youn read the script, the perils of the Korean American experience and how it doesn’t fit neatly into a single identity resonated with her. “Maybe I did this movie for my two sons too, because I knew their feelings,” she said.

Chung won her over when she asked if he wanted her to imitate his grandmother and he replied that wasn’t his objective. She valued the freedom to create a character beyond what was on the page. Yet it was Chung’s empathetic approach that she came to cherish.

She recalled the chaotic first day of filming “Minari” in the heat of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Chung could see she was suffering, Youn recalled. “I could feel his respect and worry for me.”

By contrast, she admitted, she thought the many scenes she shared with Alan S. Kim, an inexperienced young actor who plays her grandson, would test her patience. “I thought, ‘It’s going to be miserable. What am I going to do with this one?’” But when she realized the boy had memorized his lines, her worry disappeared. She shares his work ethic.

Intense preparation had always served as Youn’s shield against self-consciousness about her background. “I didn’t go to acting school and I didn’t study film, so I had an inferiority complex. I practiced so hard when I got a script,” she said.

But she is skeptical about further prospects in Hollywood. Youn, who often apologized during the interview for how blunt she thinks she sounds in a tongue not her own, fears that her lack of English proficiency may impede her. But given time to learn her dialogue, she is willing to try.

“Come to think of it, it was all worth it,” Youn said. “At the time, I was suffering with only small roles and most people hated me. I thought about just quitting or going back to the States.” But she’s a survivor, she said. “I’m still alive and finally enjoying acting.”

For her 60th birthday, veteran Korean star Yuh-Jung Youn made herself a promise. She would collaborate only with those she trusts. Even if their ventures fell short, as long as she personally appreciated the people making them, the result wouldn’t much concern her.

For her 60th birthday, veteran Korean star Yuh-Jung Youn made herself a promise. She would collaborate only with those she trusts. Even if their ventures fell short, as long as she personally appreciated the people making them, the result wouldn’t much concern her. That late-life philosophy, born of decades of limited choices and professional trauma, brought her to 'Minari,' director Lee Isaac Chung’s semi-autobiographical story about a Korean family putting down roots in Arkansas. Youn’s bittersweet performance as the grandmother, Soonja, in the tenderhearted immigrant drama has earned her an Academy Award nomination for best supporting actress, the first for a Korean actress. “Me, a 73-year-old Asian woman could have never even dreamed about being nominated for an Oscar,” Youn said via video call from her home in Seoul. “‘Minari’ brought me a lot of gifts.” As she recounted this triumph and the many pitfalls that preceded it, her pensive expression often broke into an affable smile, cheerful laughter even. Dressed in a demure black top and long necklace, there was an effortless grace to her serene presence. She came off unhurried and welcoming but determined to make her ideas understood. Occasionally she asked a friend off-camera for help with certain English words to hit each point more precisely. She expressed surprise at the fact that co-star Steven Yeun was the first Asian American performer to receive a nomination for best actor: “All I can say is: It’s about time! The success of ‘Parasite’ has definitely helped” get more recognition for Korean performers, she said. That movie, directed by Bong Joon Ho, was the first not in English to win best picture, and it has figured into Youn’s Oscar run in other ways. She had returned from shooting a new project in Vancouver, British Columbia, an Apple TV drama titled “Pachinko,” just in time to hear the announcement of her nomination. First, she felt numb. Then the Korean news media began effusively reporting on her chances. “It’s very stressful. They think I’m a soccer player or an Olympian,” she said, adding, “That pressure is really hard on me.” Because of Bong’s movie, “they have hope I can win. I keep telling him, ‘It’s all because of you!’” Bong, a fan of Kim Ki-young’s “Woman of Fire,” the 1971 film in which Youn made her feature debut, envied her awards-season experience during the pandemic. “He told me, ‘You’re lucky you can just sit down and do Zoom calls. In America they have an awards race and you have to go here and there and everywhere.’ I thought running races were only for horses,” she said. She’s making a strong push to the finish. Youn is nominated at Sunday’s SAG Awards for her performance and as part of the “Minari” ensemble. She’s also up for an Independent Spirit Award later this month. And she’s already won accolades from more than 20 groups of critics. They’re the latest turn in a career that covers more than 50 years in Korean television and film — including a recent cooking reality show titled “Youn’s Kitchen” and a new nonfiction series set in a guesthouse, “Youn’s Stay” — but the self-taught thespian never envisioned a life in the performing arts. Her international breakthrough seems to her, like everything else along the way, fortuitous. “It’s embarrassing,” she said. “Most people fell in love with the movies or fell in love with theater. But in my case, it was just an accident.” When she was a teenager in the early 1960s, an emcee for a children’s game show saw her touring a TV station and invited her to pass out gifts to the audience: “I got the check after that, and it was good money.” Similar jobs ensued until a director suggested she audition for a drama. Although she was hesitant, necessity propelled her: She had failed her college entrance exam, causing her mother profound shame. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t know what acting was,” she said. “I tried to memorize the line and do whatever they asked me to do. At the time, I didn’t know if I was enjoying it or if I disliked it.” But as she was on the rise in the mid-1970s, Youn married and moved to Florida, where her husband attended a university. She spent nearly a decade as a housewife raising her two American-born children, but then she divorced and returned to Korea as a single mother. Her fame had vanished, and ingrained sexism in Korean society made resuming her career a cruel pursuit. “The audience would call and say, ‘She is a divorcee. She shouldn’t be on television,’” she recalled, adding, “Now they like me very much. That’s very strange, but that’s human.” To put her two sons through college, she accepted parts almost indiscriminately. But turning 60 — and no longer obligated to financially support her family — meant she could invest only in people she believed in, such as auteur Hong Sang-soo, who occasionally frustrates her for the many takes he requests, and Im Sang-soo, who cast her in roles unheard of for a Korean actress of her age. In “The Taste of Money” (2013), for example, Youn embodies a powerful woman who sexually harasses her younger male secretary. Youn’s close friend In-Ah Lee, a producer, introduced her to Chung at a film festival in Busan. Chung, like Bong, revered her in “Woman of Fire,” and his knowledge or her early work impressed her. She wanted to know more about him. “Everybody teases me about this now,” she said. “I fell in love with Isaac because he is a very quiet man. I wish he was my son too.” In every film, Chung said via email, “she does something that is surprising or unexpected. I felt her own life and approach to life were very close to the part I had written.” He added that the actress is known in South Korea for her big heart and no-nonsense manner, and he knew she would bring those qualities to the “Minari” role “in a way that invites audiences in.” Writing for The Nation, critic Kristen Yoonsoo Kim said Youn “steals the spotlight; even as she leans toward caricature, her Soonja brings much-needed humor and vitality to a drama that could otherwise sink easily into the dour.” (Kim’s reviews also appear in The New York Times.) When Youn read the script, the perils of the Korean American experience and how it doesn’t fit neatly into a single identity resonated with her. “Maybe I did this movie for my two sons too, because I knew their feelings,” she said. Chung won her over when she asked if he wanted her to imitate his grandmother and he replied that wasn’t his objective. She valued the freedom to create a character beyond what was on the page. Yet it was Chung’s empathetic approach that she came to cherish. She recalled the chaotic first day of filming “Minari” in the heat of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Chung could see she was suffering, Youn recalled. “I could feel his respect and worry for me.” By contrast, she admitted, she thought the many scenes she shared with Alan S. Kim, an inexperienced young actor who plays her grandson, would test her patience. “I thought, ‘It’s going to be miserable. What am I going to do with this one?’” But when she realized the boy had memorized his lines, her worry disappeared. She shares his work ethic. Intense preparation had always served as Youn’s shield against self-consciousness about her background. “I didn’t go to acting school and I didn’t study film, so I had an inferiority complex. I practiced so hard when I got a script,” she said. But she is skeptical about further prospects in Hollywood. Youn, who often apologized during the interview for how blunt she thinks she sounds in a tongue not her own, fears that her lack of English proficiency may impede her. But given time to learn her dialogue, she is willing to try. “Come to think of it, it was all worth it,” Youn said. “At the time, I was suffering with only small roles and most people hated me. I thought about just quitting or going back to the States.” But she’s a survivor, she said. “I’m still alive and finally enjoying acting.”

She never dreamed of acting, now she’s an Oscar nominee for 'Minari'

Hadija Haruna-Oelker, a Black journalist, has just produced the German translation of Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb,” the poem about a “skinny Black girl” that for many people was the highlight of President Joe Biden’s inauguration.

So has Kübra Gümüsay, a German writer of Turkish descent.

As has Uda Strätling, a translator, who is white.

Literary translation is usually a solitary pursuit, but German publisher Hoffmann und Campe went for a team of writers to ensure the translation of Gorman’s poem — just 710 words — wasn’t just true to Gorman’s voice. The trio was also asked to make its political and social significance clear and to avoid anything that might exclude people of color, people with disabilities, women or other marginalized groups.

“It was a gamble,” Strätling said of the collaborative approach.

For nearly two weeks, the team debated word choices, occasionally emailing Gorman for clarifications. But as they worked, an argument was brewing elsewhere in Europe about who has the right to translate the poet’s work.

“This whole debate started,” Gümüsay said, with a sigh.

It began in February when Meulenhoff, a publisher in the Netherlands, said it had asked Marieke Lucas Rijneveld, a writer whose debut novel won last year’s Booker International Prize, to translate Gorman’s poem into Dutch.

Rijneveld was the “ideal candidate,” Meulenhoff said in a statement. But many social media users disagreed, asking why a white writer had been chosen when Gorman’s reading at the inauguration had been a significant cultural moment for Black people.

Three days later, Rijneveld quit. (Rijneveld declined an interview request for this article.)

In March, the debate reignited after Victor Obiols, another white translator, was dropped by the Catalan publisher Univers. Obiols said he was told his profile “was not suitable for the project.” (A Univers spokeswoman declined to comment.)

Literary figures and newspaper columnists across Europe have been arguing for weeks about what these decisions mean, turning Gorman’s poem into the latest flash point in debates about identity politics across the continent. The discussion has shone a light on the often unexamined world of literary translation and its lack of racial diversity.

“I can’t recall a translation controversy ever taking the world by storm like this,” Aaron Robertson, a Black Italian-to-English translator, said in a phone interview.

“This feels something of a watershed moment,” he added.

On Monday, the American Literary Translators Association waded into the furor. “The question of whether identity should be the deciding factor in who is allowed to translate whom is a false framing of the issues at play,” it said in a statement published on its website.

The real problem underlying the controversy was “the scarcity of Black translators,” it added. Last year, the association carried out a diversity survey. Only 2% of the 362 translators who responded were Black, a spokeswoman for the association said in an email.

In a video interview, the members of the German team said they, too, felt the debate had missed the point. “People are asking questions like, ‘Does color give you the right to translate?’” Haruna-Oelker said. “This is not about color.”

She added: “It’s about quality, it’s about the skills you have, and about perspectives.” Each member of the German team brought different things to the group, she said.

The team spent a long time discussing how to translate the word “skinny,” without conjuring images of an overly thin woman, Gümüsay said, and they debated how to bring a sense of the poem’s gender-inclusive language into German, in which many objects — and all people — are either masculine or feminine. “You’re constantly moving back and forth between the politics and the composition,” Strätling said.

“To me it felt like dancing,” Gümüsay said of the process. Haruna-Oelker added that the team tried hard to find words “which don’t hurt anyone.”

But whereas the German translators were happy to engage with the identity politics, others expressed frustration at the translator departures and their implications. Nuria Barrios, the translator of the poem’s Spanish edition, who is white, wrote in the newspaper El País that Rijneveld's stepping down from the project was “a catastrophe.”

“It is the victory of identity politics over creative freedom,” she wrote, adding: “To remove imagination from translation is to subject the craft to a lobotomy.”

Some Black academics and translators have also expressed concern. “There is a tacit idea that we are supposed to be especially concerned about the ‘appropriateness’ of a translator’s identity in the particular case of blackness,” John McWhorter, a professor of English and comparative literature at Columbia University, said in an email.

Other differences between writers and their translators — such as wealth levels, or political views — were not sparking concern, McWhorter added. “Instead, our sense of ‘diversity’ is narrower than that word implies: It’s only about skin color,” he said.

Couching the discussion in terms of appropriateness was “really ridiculous,” said Janice Deul, a Black Dutch journalist and activist who on Feb. 25 wrote an opinion piece for De Volkskrant, a Dutch newspaper, calling Rijneveld’s appointment “incomprehensible.” The following day, Rijneveld resigned.

“This is not about who can translate, it’s about who gets opportunities to translate,” Deul said. She listed 10 Black Dutch spoken-word artists who could have done the job in her article but said all of them had been overlooked.

The one opinion missing in all of this is, of course, Gorman’s. Viking is releasing “The Hill We Climb” in the United States on Tuesday. Apple TV Plus on Friday began streaming her interview with Oprah Winfrey, but she has not commented on the debate her work has spurred. Her spokeswoman didn’t respond to requests for comment.

Gorman, or her agent, Writers House, which represents the translation rights, appeared to have influence on who was selected. Aylin LaMorey-Salzmann, the editor of the German edition of “The Hill We Climb,” said that the rights owner had to agree to the choice, which had to be someone of similar profile to Gorman.

Irene Christopoulou, an editor at Psichogios, the poem’s Greek publisher, was still waiting for approval for its choice of translator. The translator was a white “emerging female poet,” Christopoulou said in an email. “Due to the racial profile of the Greek population, there are no translators/poets of color to choose from,” she added.

A spokeswoman for Tammi, the poem’s Finnish publisher, said in an email that “The negotiations are still going on with the agent and Amanda Gorman herself.”

Several European publishers named Black musicians as their translators. Timbuktu, a rapper, has completed a Swedish version, and Marie-Pierra Kakoma, a singer better known as Lous and the Yakuza, has translated the French edition, which will be published by Editions Fayard in May.

“I thought Lous’ writing skills, her sense of rhythm, her connection with spoken poetry would be tremendous assets,” Sophie de Closets, a publisher at Fayard, said in an email explaining why she chose a pop star.

Issues of identity “should definitely be considered” when hiring translators, de Closets added, but that went beyond race. “It is the publisher’s responsibility to look for the ideal combination between one given work and the person who will translate it,” she said.

Haruna-Oelker, one of the German translators, said one disappointing outcome of the debate in Europe was it had diverted attention from the message of Gorman’s poem. “The Hill We Climb” spoke about bringing people together, Haruna-Oelker said, just as the German publisher had done by assembling a team.

“We’ve tried a beautiful experiment here, and this is where the future lies,” Gümüsay said. “The future lies in trying to find new forms of collaboration, trying to bring together more voices, more sets of eyes, more perspectives to create something new.”

Hadija Haruna-Oelker, a Black journalist, has just produced the German translation of Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb,” the poem about a “skinny Black girl” that for many people was the highlight of President Joe Biden’s inauguration.

Hadija Haruna-Oelker, a Black journalist, has just produced the German translation of Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb,” the poem about a “skinny Black girl” that for many people was the highlight of President Joe Biden’s inauguration. So has Kübra Gümüsay, a German writer of Turkish descent. As has Uda Strätling, a translator, who is white. Literary translation is usually a solitary pursuit, but German publisher Hoffmann und Campe went for a team of writers to ensure the translation of Gorman’s poem — just 710 words — wasn’t just true to Gorman’s voice. The trio was also asked to make its political and social significance clear and to avoid anything that might exclude people of color, people with disabilities, women or other marginalized groups. “It was a gamble,” Strätling said of the collaborative approach. For nearly two weeks, the team debated word choices, occasionally emailing Gorman for clarifications. But as they worked, an argument was brewing elsewhere in Europe about who has the right to translate the poet’s work. “This whole debate started,” Gümüsay said, with a sigh. It began in February when Meulenhoff, a publisher in the Netherlands, said it had asked Marieke Lucas Rijneveld, a writer whose debut novel won last year’s Booker International Prize, to translate Gorman’s poem into Dutch. Rijneveld was the “ideal candidate,” Meulenhoff said in a statement. But many social media users disagreed, asking why a white writer had been chosen when Gorman’s reading at the inauguration had been a significant cultural moment for Black people. Three days later, Rijneveld quit. (Rijneveld declined an interview request for this article.) In March, the debate reignited after Victor Obiols, another white translator, was dropped by the Catalan publisher Univers. Obiols said he was told his profile “was not suitable for the project.” (A Univers spokeswoman declined to comment.) Literary figures and newspaper columnists across Europe have been arguing for weeks about what these decisions mean, turning Gorman’s poem into the latest flash point in debates about identity politics across the continent. The discussion has shone a light on the often unexamined world of literary translation and its lack of racial diversity. “I can’t recall a translation controversy ever taking the world by storm like this,” Aaron Robertson, a Black Italian-to-English translator, said in a phone interview. “This feels something of a watershed moment,” he added. On Monday, the American Literary Translators Association waded into the furor. “The question of whether identity should be the deciding factor in who is allowed to translate whom is a false framing of the issues at play,” it said in a statement published on its website. The real problem underlying the controversy was “the scarcity of Black translators,” it added. Last year, the association carried out a diversity survey. Only 2% of the 362 translators who responded were Black, a spokeswoman for the association said in an email. In a video interview, the members of the German team said they, too, felt the debate had missed the point. “People are asking questions like, ‘Does color give you the right to translate?’” Haruna-Oelker said. “This is not about color.” She added: “It’s about quality, it’s about the skills you have, and about perspectives.” Each member of the German team brought different things to the group, she said. The team spent a long time discussing how to translate the word “skinny,” without conjuring images of an overly thin woman, Gümüsay said, and they debated how to bring a sense of the poem’s gender-inclusive language into German, in which many objects — and all people — are either masculine or feminine. “You’re constantly moving back and forth between the politics and the composition,” Strätling said. “To me it felt like dancing,” Gümüsay said of the process. Haruna-Oelker added that the team tried hard to find words “which don’t hurt anyone.” But whereas the German translators were happy to engage with the identity politics, others expressed frustration at the translator departures and their implications. Nuria Barrios, the translator of the poem’s Spanish edition, who is white, wrote in the newspaper El País that Rijneveld's stepping down from the project was “a catastrophe.” “It is the victory of identity politics over creative freedom,” she wrote, adding: “To remove imagination from translation is to subject the craft to a lobotomy.” Some Black academics and translators have also expressed concern. “There is a tacit idea that we are supposed to be especially concerned about the ‘appropriateness’ of a translator’s identity in the particular case of blackness,” John McWhorter, a professor of English and comparative literature at Columbia University, said in an email. Other differences between writers and their translators — such as wealth levels, or political views — were not sparking concern, McWhorter added. “Instead, our sense of ‘diversity’ is narrower than that word implies: It’s only about skin color,” he said. Couching the discussion in terms of appropriateness was “really ridiculous,” said Janice Deul, a Black Dutch journalist and activist who on Feb. 25 wrote an opinion piece for De Volkskrant, a Dutch newspaper, calling Rijneveld’s appointment “incomprehensible.” The following day, Rijneveld resigned. “This is not about who can translate, it’s about who gets opportunities to translate,” Deul said. She listed 10 Black Dutch spoken-word artists who could have done the job in her article but said all of them had been overlooked. The one opinion missing in all of this is, of course, Gorman’s. Viking is releasing “The Hill We Climb” in the United States on Tuesday. Apple TV Plus on Friday began streaming her interview with Oprah Winfrey, but she has not commented on the debate her work has spurred. Her spokeswoman didn’t respond to requests for comment. Gorman, or her agent, Writers House, which represents the translation rights, appeared to have influence on who was selected. Aylin LaMorey-Salzmann, the editor of the German edition of “The Hill We Climb,” said that the rights owner had to agree to the choice, which had to be someone of similar profile to Gorman. Irene Christopoulou, an editor at Psichogios, the poem’s Greek publisher, was still waiting for approval for its choice of translator. The translator was a white “emerging female poet,” Christopoulou said in an email. “Due to the racial profile of the Greek population, there are no translators/poets of color to choose from,” she added. A spokeswoman for Tammi, the poem’s Finnish publisher, said in an email that “The negotiations are still going on with the agent and Amanda Gorman herself.” Several European publishers named Black musicians as their translators. Timbuktu, a rapper, has completed a Swedish version, and Marie-Pierra Kakoma, a singer better known as Lous and the Yakuza, has translated the French edition, which will be published by Editions Fayard in May. “I thought Lous’ writing skills, her sense of rhythm, her connection with spoken poetry would be tremendous assets,” Sophie de Closets, a publisher at Fayard, said in an email explaining why she chose a pop star. Issues of identity “should definitely be considered” when hiring translators, de Closets added, but that went beyond race. “It is the publisher’s responsibility to look for the ideal combination between one given work and the person who will translate it,” she said. Haruna-Oelker, one of the German translators, said one disappointing outcome of the debate in Europe was it had diverted attention from the message of Gorman’s poem. “The Hill We Climb” spoke about bringing people together, Haruna-Oelker said, just as the German publisher had done by assembling a team. “We’ve tried a beautiful experiment here, and this is where the future lies,” Gümüsay said. “The future lies in trying to find new forms of collaboration, trying to bring together more voices, more sets of eyes, more perspectives to create something new.”

Amanda Gorman’s poetry united critics; it’s dividing translators

At a recent [unlock celebration?] party comprising close friends, my old and ever-opinionated buddy, renowned for calling out Bollywood’s antics, spotted &amp; buttonholed me &amp; took off. &nbsp;

“Boss, what is this fashionable crap – jhadoed from the West, no doubt – of putting the term Actress to sleep and replacing it with Actor? For Chrissake, can you imagine calling screen legends and dream girls like Garbo, Harlow, Taylor, Monroe &amp; Hepburn or even our very own Madhubala, Nutan, Suchitra Sen, Meena Kumari, Waheeda Rehman ... Actors?! &nbsp;Why this sudden anxiety and insecurity to emphasise &amp; insist on individual identity? Yahan bhi activitism ghus gaya? Their talent and beauty have always been recognised, acknowledged, applauded &amp; rewarded, so what’s the problem, yaar?”&nbsp;

Other supporting voices soon joined in and the general drift was that men &amp; women are not the same &amp; an actor in a female role sounded both weird and sexless! Why this 'dramabaazi' and self-conscious attempt to flag-wave female entity? Even the revered Oscars have a Best Actress award, so why this pagalpan to re-write the rules of the game that was never leaning towards anything remotely sexist or degrading.&nbsp;

Daughter of the legendary beauty Suchitra Sen, Moon Moon Sen joins the party&nbsp;

"Why are we constantly posturing and aping the West to appear with it, cool &amp; liberated? What is this great image-makeover or perception change that one hopes to achieve? What value-addition and in what way does the term actress – after all these years of total acceptance – suddenly appear to rankle, de-value, demean the dignity, prestige, aura &amp; stature and bring new power by replacing it with the term actor? &nbsp;Pray, do tell!”

Also Read | <a href="https://www.wionews.com/opinions-blogs/opinion-why-film-critics-are-breath-of-life-but-a-kiss-of-death-for-the-masses-364981">Opinion: Why film critics are breath of life but a kiss of death for the masses</a>

34-year-old Bangalore-based housewife Ila Iyer takes it forward.&nbsp;

“For simple, middle-class Bollywood fans like us, we just don’t understand why this cardiac arrest over&nbsp;non-existent gender issues! Man-woman, hero-heroine, actor-actress - where does protest and woman-empowerment come into this or solid assertion of identity to celebrate the individual? Why and how does Best Actress become a Kalank to the female Performer &amp; Best Actor something liberating to be hymned &amp; celebrated since it appears to be in the same page? &nbsp;Why is everything so politicised, aggressive and hell-bent towards scoring brownie points? When beautiful, graceful and gifted Audrey Hepburn or Elizabeth Taylor, Meena Kumari or Rakhee received a Best Actress award, remember there is appreciation &amp; applause not paralysis through analysis!”&nbsp;

Respected veteran film critic Saibal Chatterjee rounds off this train of thought, part-bewildered, part-amused.&nbsp;

“To me, it’s nothing more than a war-cry of APNA TIME AAGAYA! A superficial celebration of aligning with the new-age woman-empowerment thrust blitzing certain sections of society. While I am all for anything that goes towards upliftment of women’s dignity, this Actress-Actor insistence foxes me. How can an alphabetic change suddenly bring more value, clout, prestige and status to gifted actresses already saluted? It will be interesting to check it out with some thinking &amp; articulate actresses, who have opinions and don’t get influenced by the forces that are desperate to look and appear politically correct. I would imagine, great scripts with solid roles and super directors would be their primary concern – not Actors instead of Actresses!”

Also Read | <a href="https://www.wionews.com/opinions-blogs/opinion-ok-you-watch-arthouse-films-but-does-it-make-you-superior-361949">Opinion: Ok you watch arthouse films, but does it make you superior?</a>

Not all rock with these takes of the no-big-deal guys, who believe this issue is a waste-of-time which should be channelised to more important matters, like making better films with solid content and gifted actors.&nbsp;

Kolkata-based Indrani Sen however doesn’t agree and lauds Shabana Azmi who is said to have brought this [actor not actress] subject up.&nbsp;

“Shabana-ji, brilliant actor and dedicated activist, is spot-on. &nbsp;It is a timely and symbolic gesture towards perpetuating female-empowerment &amp; self-assertion which is the flavour of the day. The term actress has outlived its simplistic utility and today suggests a bimbette, a glam dumb doll, sexy eye-candy for the hunk hero. An actor does not suffer this image perception at all. Since both are performers, why not go gender-neutral?”&nbsp;

Mumbai-based Sharmila Khanna follows. The 20-year-old Marketing Executive, a serious film-buff agrees.&nbsp;

“Whether or not this new term impacts fees, clout or image is another matter but throwing the hat into the ring is about demonstrating intent and seriousness of purpose.“ &nbsp;

Gifted film-maker Aparna Sen [36 Chowringhee Lane, Mr. &amp; Mrs. Iyer, The Japanese Wife] offers her evolved take.&nbsp;

“I am in complete agreement with dear soul-mate Shabana! &nbsp;At a time when the new-age woman is multi-tasking &amp; multi-layering and meeting with such stupendous success, why should gender influence profession?”

<a href="https://www.wionews.com/opinions-blogs/opinion-is-2021-the-year-of-actor-vs-star-showdown-360345">Also Read | Opinion: Is 2021 the year of Actor vs Star showdown?</a>

Critics note that grammatically it is incorrect to refer to the female gender of actor as female actor. The female for actor is actress, like tiger-tigress, master-mistress, etc. However, the trend is such that actresses are referred to as female actors for two reasons. One, gender neutrality. In order to be on the same page and at par with male actors.

This takes the male-dominated sting off and makes it a level-playing field.&nbsp;

Two, the word tiger is a common noun but actor is derived from the verb Act. &nbsp;The same rule doesn’t apply for actor as tiger. Besides, it’s considered an outdated term. &nbsp;

Another view is that actresses come into the same category as authoress, comedienne, manageress, lady doctor, male nurse that date from a time when professions were largely the preserve of one sex, men.

As Whoopee Goldberg once said, “Actresses can only play women. I am an actor. I can play anything!”&nbsp;

Cut to a space beyond the battlefield. The word actor refers to a person who acts regardless of gender while actress refers specifically to a female. &nbsp;

The Dictionary states that originally the term Actor was used for both sexes.

“I was a professional actor for 40 years. Most of the women I worked with generally preferred to be referred to as actors, performers, artists, singers, dancers. The trend of identifying genders in job titles faded out in the late 20th century along with words like Stewardess [Flight Attendant] Waitress [Server]. Only Hollywood-type award shows sustain the gender-specific categories because of traditional slots which seem to have been writ on stone! At the end of the day, even in glam and glitzy Hollywood, remember all movie stars, male or female, belong to the same union – The Screen Actors Guild!” quips a veteran show personality from the West.

Your call esteemed readers!

(Disclaimer: The views of the writer do not represent the views of WION or ZMCL. Nor does WION or ZMCL endorse the views of the writer.)

At a recent [unlock celebration?] party comprising close friends, my old and ever-opinionated buddy, renowned for calling out Bollywood’s antics, spotted & buttonholed me & took off.

At a recent [unlock celebration?] party comprising close friends, my old and ever-opinionated buddy, renowned for calling out Bollywood’s antics, spotted & buttonholed me & took off. “Boss, what is this fashionable crap – jhadoed from the West, no doubt – of putting the term Actress to sleep and replacing it with Actor? For Chrissake, can you imagine calling screen legends and dream girls like Garbo, Harlow, Taylor, Monroe & Hepburn or even our very own Madhubala, Nutan, Suchitra Sen, Meena Kumari, Waheeda Rehman ... Actors?! Why this sudden anxiety and insecurity to emphasise & insist on individual identity? Yahan bhi activitism ghus gaya? Their talent and beauty have always been recognised, acknowledged, applauded & rewarded, so what’s the problem, yaar?” Other supporting voices soon joined in and the general drift was that men & women are not the same & an actor in a female role sounded both weird and sexless! Why this 'dramabaazi' and self-conscious attempt to flag-wave female entity? Even the revered Oscars have a Best Actress award, so why this pagalpan to re-write the rules of the game that was never leaning towards anything remotely sexist or degrading. Daughter of the legendary beauty Suchitra Sen, Moon Moon Sen joins the party "Why are we constantly posturing and aping the West to appear with it, cool & liberated? What is this great image-makeover or perception change that one hopes to achieve? What value-addition and in what way does the term actress – after all these years of total acceptance – suddenly appear to rankle, de-value, demean the dignity, prestige, aura & stature and bring new power by replacing it with the term actor? Pray, do tell!” Also Read | Opinion: Why film critics are breath of life but a kiss of death for the masses 34-year-old Bangalore-based housewife Ila Iyer takes it forward. “For simple, middle-class Bollywood fans like us, we just don’t understand why this cardiac arrest over non-existent gender issues! Man-woman, hero-heroine, actor-actress - where does protest and woman-empowerment come into this or solid assertion of identity to celebrate the individual? Why and how does Best Actress become a Kalank to the female Performer & Best Actor something liberating to be hymned & celebrated since it appears to be in the same page? Why is everything so politicised, aggressive and hell-bent towards scoring brownie points? When beautiful, graceful and gifted Audrey Hepburn or Elizabeth Taylor, Meena Kumari or Rakhee received a Best Actress award, remember there is appreciation & applause not paralysis through analysis!” Respected veteran film critic Saibal Chatterjee rounds off this train of thought, part-bewildered, part-amused. “To me, it’s nothing more than a war-cry of APNA TIME AAGAYA! A superficial celebration of aligning with the new-age woman-empowerment thrust blitzing certain sections of society. While I am all for anything that goes towards upliftment of women’s dignity, this Actress-Actor insistence foxes me. How can an alphabetic change suddenly bring more value, clout, prestige and status to gifted actresses already saluted? It will be interesting to check it out with some thinking & articulate actresses, who have opinions and don’t get influenced by the forces that are desperate to look and appear politically correct. I would imagine, great scripts with solid roles and super directors would be their primary concern – not Actors instead of Actresses!” Also Read | Opinion: Ok you watch arthouse films, but does it make you superior? Not all rock with these takes of the no-big-deal guys, who believe this issue is a waste-of-time which should be channelised to more important matters, like making better films with solid content and gifted actors. Kolkata-based Indrani Sen however doesn’t agree and lauds Shabana Azmi who is said to have brought this [actor not actress] subject up. “Shabana-ji, brilliant actor and dedicated activist, is spot-on. It is a timely and symbolic gesture towards perpetuating female-empowerment & self-assertion which is the flavour of the day. The term actress has outlived its simplistic utility and today suggests a bimbette, a glam dumb doll, sexy eye-candy for the hunk hero. An actor does not suffer this image perception at all. Since both are performers, why not go gender-neutral?” Mumbai-based Sharmila Khanna follows. The 20-year-old Marketing Executive, a serious film-buff agrees. “Whether or not this new term impacts fees, clout or image is another matter but throwing the hat into the ring is about demonstrating intent and seriousness of purpose.“ Gifted film-maker Aparna Sen [36 Chowringhee Lane, Mr. & Mrs. Iyer, The Japanese Wife] offers her evolved take. “I am in complete agreement with dear soul-mate Shabana! At a time when the new-age woman is multi-tasking & multi-layering and meeting with such stupendous success, why should gender influence profession?” Also Read | Opinion: Is 2021 the year of Actor vs Star showdown? Critics note that grammatically it is incorrect to refer to the female gender of actor as female actor. The female for actor is actress, like tiger-tigress, master-mistress, etc. However, the trend is such that actresses are referred to as female actors for two reasons. One, gender neutrality. In order to be on the same page and at par with male actors. This takes the male-dominated sting off and makes it a level-playing field. Two, the word tiger is a common noun but actor is derived from the verb Act. The same rule doesn’t apply for actor as tiger. Besides, it’s considered an outdated term. Another view is that actresses come into the same category as authoress, comedienne, manageress, lady doctor, male nurse that date from a time when professions were largely the preserve of one sex, men. As Whoopee Goldberg once said, “Actresses can only play women. I am an actor. I can play anything!” Cut to a space beyond the battlefield. The word actor refers to a person who acts regardless of gender while actress refers specifically to a female. The Dictionary states that originally the term Actor was used for both sexes. “I was a professional actor for 40 years. Most of the women I worked with generally preferred to be referred to as actors, performers, artists, singers, dancers. The trend of identifying genders in job titles faded out in the late 20th century along with words like Stewardess [Flight Attendant] Waitress [Server]. Only Hollywood-type award shows sustain the gender-specific categories because of traditional slots which seem to have been writ on stone! At the end of the day, even in glam and glitzy Hollywood, remember all movie stars, male or female, belong to the same union – The Screen Actors Guild!” quips a veteran show personality from the West. Your call esteemed readers! (Disclaimer: The views of the writer do not represent the views of WION or ZMCL. Nor does WION or ZMCL endorse the views of the writer.)

Opinion: "Please don't call me an actress but an actor"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;

This story contains spoilers for the seventh episode of 'WandaVision.'

If you are a fan of the Disney+ Marvel series “WandaVision,” there are five words that have been stuck in your head for the past week: “It was Agatha all along.”

The 62-second earworm appears in Episode 7, “Breaking the Fourth Wall,” and its purpose is simple: It explains what Wanda and Vision’s nosy neighbor, Agnes (Kathryn Hahn), has been up to this entire time. It has also taken on a life of its own, having spawned numerous trap, rock and rap remixes in the days since the episode debuted Feb 19.

“None of us knew this was going to be the song,” said composer Robert Lopez, 46, who created the songs for the series with his wife of 17 years, Oscar and Grammy-winning lyricist Kristen Anderson-Lopez, 48. “We woke up that morning to find that it was all over the internet, and it was like, ‘This is awesome.’”

It isn’t the first time the songwriting power couple has created an infectious earworm, having written tunes such as the Oscar- and Grammy-winning song “Let It Go” for the Disney animated movie “Frozen” and the Oscar-winning ballad “Remember Me” for the Pixar animated film “Coco.” They’ve won a pile of Oscars, Emmys, Tonys and Grammys between them. (Lopez, who co-conceived and co-wrote the hit musicals “Avenue Q” and “The Book of Mormon,” is in rarefied air as the only double EGOT — someone who has won an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony, twice over.)

But it is a minute-long riff on “The Munsters” theme that has burned itself into the brains of the collective internet over the past week.

 
“It’s got an ‘Addams Family’ twist with an electric harpsichord,” Anderson-Lopez said. “It’s super-duper cool and feels like something you’d find in a haunted house.”

Sung by Hahn and a chorus of male backup singers (including Lopez), it delivers the dramatic revelation that Agnes is the powerful witch Agatha Harkness — and that it is she, not Wanda (Elizabeth Olsen), who is behind all the oddities happening in sleepy little Westview. (Having killed a dog, she reveals, was among her dastardly deeds.)

When the song debuted on Spotify and iTunes on Tuesday, it leaped to the No. 1 slot on the iTunes soundtrack charts. (The trap remix created by hip-hop artist Leland Philpot is “the most glorious thing,” Anderson-Lopez said.) 
 
In a phone interview from Connecticut on Wednesday, Anderson-Lopez and Lopez shared how the track came together, their trick for getting their own songs out of their own heads and why Hahn’s character is “perfidious” rather than “hideous.” These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

Q: Did you have any idea “Agatha All Along” was going to blow up like this?

ROBERT LOPEZ: No, not at all. We were sort of sad that we were winding down and we didn’t know if we’d have any hits come out of this thing. But my goodness.

Q: What part of the song came to you first?

LOPEZ: We have a theme — the “WandaVision” motif — that’s in every single song. So that was how we began with “Agatha.”

KRISTEN ANDERSON-LOPEZ: But, in a way, “Agatha All Along” was there all along. We’ve been spoon-feeding a tritone that’s called the devil’s interval — the&nbsp; 'duh-duh-duh'&nbsp;— throughout the series. And then ultimately, when the big reveal happens with the 'DUH! DUH! DUH!', everyone had been hearing it steadily, so it felt like an old friend.

Q: Where did you look for inspiration for the song?

LOPEZ: We started with a different idea for a version of the song more along the lines of “That Girl.”

ANDERSON-LOPEZ: But it just wasn’t right; it just wasn’t churning my blood the way that I wanted it to. So then we thought: It’s a show about witches, right? So let’s embrace it. What other shows are about witches and Goth figures? “The Addams Family,” “The Munsters,” the “Monster Mash” — all these Halloween-y kind of songs that have this grinding, growling bari sax.

LOPEZ: We also have an electric harpsichord, which is what they use in “The Addams Family.” That’s the thing going dit-dit-dit-dit-dit-dit — the repeated chorus.

Q:Who does what when you’re writing a song?

LOPEZ: It changes with every song. Sometimes we’ll write it together in the same room, sometimes one of us will write the whole thing and the other one will take credit. In this case, Kristen wrote the full lyrics and gave them to me on a sheet of paper, and then I went to town with music.

ANDERSON-LOPEZ: I would wake up in the morning, and sometimes I’d be so excited to write the songs that I would write them in the shower. Get out, get a towel, scribble them on a piece of paper with drips, blurring ink — and Bobby would compose them by 10 a.m., and we’d record them after lunch, and then get notes at like 5 p.m.

Q:“Perfidious” is quite the lyric! Where did that come from?

ANDERSON-LOPEZ: We knew we didn’t want to say "hideous," because Agatha is still hot. So I looked at a rhyming dictionary and was like: “'Perfidious!' It’s so great! It’s so perfect!”

LOPEZ: We always have an SAT word in the lyrics somewhere because people appreciate learning a word. And if they already know it, they appreciate being able to brag that they know it.

ANDERSON-LOPEZ: Right! “Frozen fractals …” [from “Let It Go”]

Q: Your neighbors were not fans of one of your last hits, “Let It Go.” Has reaction been more favorable this time around?

ANDERSON-LOPEZ: It’s still early — they’ve had less than a week. But I’m starting to feel the trickles on Twitter. I’m getting messages saying, “Thank you so much for ‘Agatha All Along,’ now please remove it from my head!” and “It’s been five days, now take it back, please!”

Q: Do the songs you write get stuck in your head, too?

LOPEZ: Of course! You wake up in the middle of the night with it pounding in your ears. But having a song that gets in people’s heads is such an honor for us. It means what we created somehow magically connected across space and time and landed in another person’s neurons. It’s what was in our heads, and now it’s in their heads, and that’s something we now all share.

ANDERSON-LOPEZ:I woke up at 3 a.m. this morning with “She’s insidious / So perfidious” just going on a loop in my head. And so I replaced it with: “Don’t worry, / Ooh, ooh ooh ooh oo-ooh ooh oo-ooh, / be happy.”

LOPEZ: That’s how you get it out of your system …

ANDERSON-LOPEZ: … replace it with another thing that’s been stuck in your head before.

This story contains spoilers for the seventh episode of 'WandaVision.' If you are a fan of the Disney+ Marvel series “WandaVision,” there are five words that have been stuck in your head for the past week: “It was Agatha all along.

This story contains spoilers for the seventh episode of 'WandaVision.' If you are a fan of the Disney+ Marvel series “WandaVision,” there are five words that have been stuck in your head for the past week: “It was Agatha all along.” The 62-second earworm appears in Episode 7, “Breaking the Fourth Wall,” and its purpose is simple: It explains what Wanda and Vision’s nosy neighbor, Agnes (Kathryn Hahn), has been up to this entire time. It has also taken on a life of its own, having spawned numerous trap, rock and rap remixes in the days since the episode debuted Feb 19. “None of us knew this was going to be the song,” said composer Robert Lopez, 46, who created the songs for the series with his wife of 17 years, Oscar and Grammy-winning lyricist Kristen Anderson-Lopez, 48. “We woke up that morning to find that it was all over the internet, and it was like, ‘This is awesome.’” It isn’t the first time the songwriting power couple has created an infectious earworm, having written tunes such as the Oscar- and Grammy-winning song “Let It Go” for the Disney animated movie “Frozen” and the Oscar-winning ballad “Remember Me” for the Pixar animated film “Coco.” They’ve won a pile of Oscars, Emmys, Tonys and Grammys between them. (Lopez, who co-conceived and co-wrote the hit musicals “Avenue Q” and “The Book of Mormon,” is in rarefied air as the only double EGOT — someone who has won an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony, twice over.) But it is a minute-long riff on “The Munsters” theme that has burned itself into the brains of the collective internet over the past week. “It’s got an ‘Addams Family’ twist with an electric harpsichord,” Anderson-Lopez said. “It’s super-duper cool and feels like something you’d find in a haunted house.” Sung by Hahn and a chorus of male backup singers (including Lopez), it delivers the dramatic revelation that Agnes is the powerful witch Agatha Harkness — and that it is she, not Wanda (Elizabeth Olsen), who is behind all the oddities happening in sleepy little Westview. (Having killed a dog, she reveals, was among her dastardly deeds.) When the song debuted on Spotify and iTunes on Tuesday, it leaped to the No. 1 slot on the iTunes soundtrack charts. (The trap remix created by hip-hop artist Leland Philpot is “the most glorious thing,” Anderson-Lopez said.) In a phone interview from Connecticut on Wednesday, Anderson-Lopez and Lopez shared how the track came together, their trick for getting their own songs out of their own heads and why Hahn’s character is “perfidious” rather than “hideous.” These are edited excerpts from the conversation. Q: Did you have any idea “Agatha All Along” was going to blow up like this? ROBERT LOPEZ: No, not at all. We were sort of sad that we were winding down and we didn’t know if we’d have any hits come out of this thing. But my goodness. Q: What part of the song came to you first? LOPEZ: We have a theme — the “WandaVision” motif — that’s in every single song. So that was how we began with “Agatha.” KRISTEN ANDERSON-LOPEZ: But, in a way, “Agatha All Along” was there all along. We’ve been spoon-feeding a tritone that’s called the devil’s interval — the 'duh-duh-duh' — throughout the series. And then ultimately, when the big reveal happens with the 'DUH! DUH! DUH!', everyone had been hearing it steadily, so it felt like an old friend. Q: Where did you look for inspiration for the song? LOPEZ: We started with a different idea for a version of the song more along the lines of “That Girl.” ANDERSON-LOPEZ: But it just wasn’t right; it just wasn’t churning my blood the way that I wanted it to. So then we thought: It’s a show about witches, right? So let’s embrace it. What other shows are about witches and Goth figures? “The Addams Family,” “The Munsters,” the “Monster Mash” — all these Halloween-y kind of songs that have this grinding, growling bari sax. LOPEZ: We also have an electric harpsichord, which is what they use in “The Addams Family.” That’s the thing going dit-dit-dit-dit-dit-dit — the repeated chorus. Q:Who does what when you’re writing a song? LOPEZ: It changes with every song. Sometimes we’ll write it together in the same room, sometimes one of us will write the whole thing and the other one will take credit. In this case, Kristen wrote the full lyrics and gave them to me on a sheet of paper, and then I went to town with music. ANDERSON-LOPEZ: I would wake up in the morning, and sometimes I’d be so excited to write the songs that I would write them in the shower. Get out, get a towel, scribble them on a piece of paper with drips, blurring ink — and Bobby would compose them by 10 a.m., and we’d record them after lunch, and then get notes at like 5 p.m. Q:“Perfidious” is quite the lyric! Where did that come from? ANDERSON-LOPEZ: We knew we didn’t want to say "hideous," because Agatha is still hot. So I looked at a rhyming dictionary and was like: “'Perfidious!' It’s so great! It’s so perfect!” LOPEZ: We always have an SAT word in the lyrics somewhere because people appreciate learning a word. And if they already know it, they appreciate being able to brag that they know it. ANDERSON-LOPEZ: Right! “Frozen fractals …” [from “Let It Go”] Q: Your neighbors were not fans of one of your last hits, “Let It Go.” Has reaction been more favorable this time around? ANDERSON-LOPEZ: It’s still early — they’ve had less than a week. But I’m starting to feel the trickles on Twitter. I’m getting messages saying, “Thank you so much for ‘Agatha All Along,’ now please remove it from my head!” and “It’s been five days, now take it back, please!” Q: Do the songs you write get stuck in your head, too? LOPEZ: Of course! You wake up in the middle of the night with it pounding in your ears. But having a song that gets in people’s heads is such an honor for us. It means what we created somehow magically connected across space and time and landed in another person’s neurons. It’s what was in our heads, and now it’s in their heads, and that’s something we now all share. ANDERSON-LOPEZ:I woke up at 3 a.m. this morning with “She’s insidious / So perfidious” just going on a loop in my head. And so I replaced it with: “Don’t worry, / Ooh, ooh ooh ooh oo-ooh ooh oo-ooh, / be happy.” LOPEZ: That’s how you get it out of your system … ANDERSON-LOPEZ: … replace it with another thing that’s been stuck in your head before.

Meet the songwriters behind the 'WandaVision' hit 'Agatha All Along'

It was a February day so overcast that noon looked like dusk, and Frances McDormand felt a little rattled. She told me this as we ambled down the main street of the small coastal town where she lives, a modest, hidden place so far from Hollywood that studio searchlights would have a hard time finding it. Still, someone had managed.

Earlier that day, the phone rang at McDormand’s house, and while she didn’t recognize the man on the other end, he certainly knew who &lt;em&gt;she &lt;/em&gt;was. When the caller told her he was watching “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri,” the 2017 movie in which she plays an avenging mother named Mildred, McDormand realized she was on the phone with a fan who had tracked down her unlisted landline.

“It was the first creepy call I’ve gotten in 16 years here,” she told me. Though she hung up right away, McDormand now wondered what she might have asked him: “OK, what part were you watching? The scene where I threw the Molotov cocktail at the police station?”

Maybe the fan had hoped to speak with righteous Mildred, who harangues priests and cops and hurls fire bombs in the pursuit of justice. Instead, he reached Frances McDormand, a 63-year-old woman who chats up everybody she comes across in her small town, doesn’t like to think of herself as famous, and has won two Oscars.

This is the tricky thing about how persuasively McDormand embodies her characters: You think you know&lt;em&gt; her&lt;/em&gt; because you’re certain you know them. Whether it’s kindhearted Marge from “Fargo,” tetchy Olive from “Olive Kitteridge,” or bohemian Jane in “Laurel Canyon,” McDormand specializes in playing women with worldviews. You can tell right away what they like and don’t like, who they would be friendly with and who they can’t stand.

Since she rarely grants interviews, most people only see the real McDormand blazing an iconoclastic streak through televised awards shows, where she is barefaced instead of Botoxed and once wore her own jean jacket in lieu of borrowed couture. (In Hollywood, this mild noncompliance is tantamount to a declaration of war.) McDormand is highly skeptical of any ceremony where actors are done up like glamorous gladiators, and when her husband, filmmaker Joel Coen, was once asked to produce the Oscars alongside his brother, Ethan, McDormand suggested they set the telecast at Coney Island, which would have forced Hollywood glitterati to mingle with the freak show.

That irreverence is McDormand’s most endearing trait: On the day we met, she ducked into a liquor store to satisfy her craving for Fritos — “You know they’re gooood, right?” she teased — and before we sat together on a concrete wall by the coastline, McDormand clambered on top of it and used the length of her splayed body to measure a pandemic-appropriate distance between us. She makes a concerted effort not to treat herself like a precious movie star in the hopes that you won’t, either.

That’s why she lives where she lives and why, as she perched on the wall opposite me in an olive puffer jacket, she asked me not to divulge the name of her town. That morning’s phone call aside, “I get to live my more authentic self here,” she said, “and I don’t have to pretend to be anybody else.”

She nodded toward the beach, where a handful of people cavorted with their dogs and surfboards. “I don’t mind being&lt;em&gt; their&lt;/em&gt; movie star,” she said. “I’m just not going to be yours.”

STILL, THE LINE BETWEEN McDORMAND and her characters will only grow blurrier with the release of her intimate new film, “Nomadland.” In this sunset-dappled drama from the director Chloé Zhao, McDormand plays Fern, a widow who packs her things into a van and joins up with a tribe of older itinerant workers to spend their golden years working odd jobs all across the American West.

“Nomadland” would eventually require more from this private star than she is used to giving, but when McDormand first met with Zhao in early 2018, she was mostly curious what the up-and-coming director would think of her: “I was like, ‘Man, I just want to be relevant. Do you think I’m relevant?’”

Perhaps that’s a surprising admission for a woman who was then on the verge of winning her second Oscar, for “Three Billboards,” but McDormand had just entered her 60s and worried that good opportunities could prove harder to find. Even before that, most of her best-known roles had required some hustle to obtain, which is part of the reason McDormand has lately become a producer, too.

“Our industry is such an ageist industry,” Zhao told me by phone. “Someone like Frances McDormand who is just so authentically herself, who has not tried to erase those lines on her face or cover that up to fit into the industry — to me, she’ll be relevant forever.”

And it was exactly that authentic self that intrigued Zhao. In her previous films, “The Rider” and “Songs My Brothers Taught Me,” Zhao had cast nonprofessionals and built character arcs for them that were inspired by their actual experiences. “Nomadland,” based on a nonfiction book by Jessica Bruder, would offer her the same opportunity: Real nomads from Bruder’s book, like Linda May and Swankie, were enticed to play pivotal supporting roles in the film.

But since Zhao wanted those women to simply be themselves in front of the camera, she decided that for the sake of coherence, McDormand would need to play a version of herself, too. “It’s very interesting, the layers of it,” Zhao said. “Fran is playing Fern, but even the name ‘Fern’ came from herself and who she thinks she might be if she hit the road.”

In fact, McDormand had long harbored a fantasy of turning her back on Hollywood, changing her name, and setting off in an RV upon reaching her 60s. “Chloé tapped into the truth of it,” McDormand said, “which was at different points of my life, I’ve said to my husband, ‘I can’t take this anymore, I’m dropping out.’”

“Nomadland” let McDormand play out that dream and a few others. Many of the people McDormand interacts with in the film had no idea she was a famous actress — they figured she was just another nomad, and spoke to her like a normal person in exactly the way that she craves.

In some ways, all that verisimilitude could be grueling, too — McDormand was surprised at how exhausted she would feel after long days of simply being present in front of the camera, reacting to the stories real people unspooled. Zhao also asked McDormand to put in actual hours at Fern’s odd jobs, like harvesting beets in Nebraska or working at a warehouse in California.

But the result is a performance that McDormand has never given before, one that has less to do with acting and more to do with simply &lt;em&gt;being&lt;/em&gt;. As Los Angeles Times critic Justin Chang wrote in his “Nomadland” review, “McDormand doesn’t disappear into Fern; she’s revealed by Fern, and Fern is revealed by her.”

That sort of ineffable, hard-to-pin-down portrait was exactly Zhao’s intention. “I like to think that we have captured a great performance,” she said, “but also, an essence of Fran as well.”

Still, the director and her star sometimes disagreed on just how much of that essence to use. Details both large and small have been pulled directly from McDormand’s real life: Fern proudly shows off a set of plates that McDormand’s father bought her as a college graduation gift, and Zhao cast one of the actress’s oldest friends as Fern’s sister so the recriminations they air in the film could have a real weight.

But when Zhao floated the idea of finding a role in the film for McDormand’s son, Pedro, or suggested that Fern’s dead spouse, glimpsed only in a photograph, should be played by McDormand’s actual husband, Joel Coen, her lead drew a line in the sand. “I have to believe that it’s not just a documentary of me,” McDormand said. “I did create a character, just like I’ve created myself in 63 years, too.”

FOR MOST OF HER LIFE, McDormand has been fascinated by the formula through which one concocts a self-image. How much does it have to do with authenticity, and to what extent is it constructed by playing pretend?

“I would say probably fifth grade is the first time I can remember, ‘Oh, I know what they think I am, and I’m going to subvert it,’” she told me.

What they knew about McDormand then was that she was the adopted daughter of Vernon McDormand, a minister for the Disciples of Christ. That sort of role in that sort of family required a certain amount of public respectability, but as she got older, and an English teacher at McDormand’s school in Monessen, Pennsylvania, asked her to read the role of Lady Macbeth in a workshop, she found herself thrilled to leave propriety at the door.

“That was the hook,” McDormand said. “It was the power of being a really shy, slightly suspect seventh-grader who could stand in front of a group of people and keep their attention.” She loved, too, that Shakespeare’s female characters were as power-hungry as the men: “It’s like I used to say to Joel, ‘Why don’t you guys write better roles for women? In fact, why don’t you just write a role for men and then let me play it?’”

She had married Coen not long after making her screen debut in the 1984 noir “Blood Simple,” which he directed with Ethan. Twelve years later, the Coen brothers would give McDormand her signature role, one that could only be played by a woman: Marge, the chirpy, pregnant police chief in “Fargo.”

That film made her famous, a condition that McDormand considered a fire to be stomped out: After hiring a publicist, she almost immediately instructed him to turn down most requests.

“I made a very conscious effort not to do press and publicity for 10 years in what other people would think would be a very dangerous moment in a female actor’s career, but it paid off for exactly the reasons I wanted it to,” she said. “It gave me a mystery back to who I was, and then in the roles I performed, I could take an audience to a place where someone who sold watches or perfume and magazines couldn’t.”

To her, “Nomadland” is the culmination of that effort to keep herself unspoiled in the public eye. “That’s why it works,” she said. “That’s why Chloé could bear to even think of doing this with me, because of what I’ve created for years not just as an actor, but in my personal life.”

We traipsed back through town, and as we walked up a hill covered in overgrowth and eucalyptus trees, McDormand drew one final line: “So I’m going to pass my house, and then I’m going to leave you,” she said. She asked if I had dinner plans, and directed me to a farm stand I could stop by on the way home. “They’ve got gorgeous little gems and some good old arugula,” she said, “but no eggs right now because the chickens are all cold.”

As McDormand offered me kindly advice while standing in front of a felled eucalyptus trunk, I could have sworn I was talking to Fern, who is so practical and self-reliant. It reminded me of a story she had told me earlier: Not long ago, for the drive-in premiere of “Nomadland” in Pasadena, California, McDormand had decided to pull the van from the film out of storage. She thought it would be fun to sit in during the screening, but when she came face to face with the car she had lovingly named “Vanguard,” McDormand found herself overcome.

She had considered that van “the interior life of Fern, and therefore me,” she said, and to see Vanguard dirty and filled with junk after two years apart was almost too much to bear. An hour and a half into their reunion, Coen found McDormand still scrubbing the car, dripping sweat, insisting that she needed just a little more time with Vanguard. “I’m cleaning her,” McDormand told him. “I can’t let her go!”

It isn’t easy to move on when you’ve made something that requires so much of you. Before we parted ways, I asked McDormand how she felt after making “Nomadland.” I thought she scoffed at me, but she was laughing at the very idea.

“Well, at what point?” she said. “&lt;em&gt;Is&lt;/em&gt; it afterwards? I don’t know!” Then she shoved her hands into the pockets of her puffer jacket and disappeared into the eucalyptus grove, taking Fern with her.

It was a February day so overcast that noon looked like dusk, and Frances McDormand felt a little rattled. She told me this as we ambled down the main street of the small coastal town where she lives, a modest, hidden place so far from Hollywood that studio searchlights would have a hard time finding it.

It was a February day so overcast that noon looked like dusk, and Frances McDormand felt a little rattled. She told me this as we ambled down the main street of the small coastal town where she lives, a modest, hidden place so far from Hollywood that studio searchlights would have a hard time finding it. Still, someone had managed. Earlier that day, the phone rang at McDormand’s house, and while she didn’t recognize the man on the other end, he certainly knew who she was. When the caller told her he was watching “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri,” the 2017 movie in which she plays an avenging mother named Mildred, McDormand realized she was on the phone with a fan who had tracked down her unlisted landline. “It was the first creepy call I’ve gotten in 16 years here,” she told me. Though she hung up right away, McDormand now wondered what she might have asked him: “OK, what part were you watching? The scene where I threw the Molotov cocktail at the police station?” Maybe the fan had hoped to speak with righteous Mildred, who harangues priests and cops and hurls fire bombs in the pursuit of justice. Instead, he reached Frances McDormand, a 63-year-old woman who chats up everybody she comes across in her small town, doesn’t like to think of herself as famous, and has won two Oscars. This is the tricky thing about how persuasively McDormand embodies her characters: You think you know her because you’re certain you know them. Whether it’s kindhearted Marge from “Fargo,” tetchy Olive from “Olive Kitteridge,” or bohemian Jane in “Laurel Canyon,” McDormand specializes in playing women with worldviews. You can tell right away what they like and don’t like, who they would be friendly with and who they can’t stand. Since she rarely grants interviews, most people only see the real McDormand blazing an iconoclastic streak through televised awards shows, where she is barefaced instead of Botoxed and once wore her own jean jacket in lieu of borrowed couture. (In Hollywood, this mild noncompliance is tantamount to a declaration of war.) McDormand is highly skeptical of any ceremony where actors are done up like glamorous gladiators, and when her husband, filmmaker Joel Coen, was once asked to produce the Oscars alongside his brother, Ethan, McDormand suggested they set the telecast at Coney Island, which would have forced Hollywood glitterati to mingle with the freak show. That irreverence is McDormand’s most endearing trait: On the day we met, she ducked into a liquor store to satisfy her craving for Fritos — “You know they’re gooood, right?” she teased — and before we sat together on a concrete wall by the coastline, McDormand clambered on top of it and used the length of her splayed body to measure a pandemic-appropriate distance between us. She makes a concerted effort not to treat herself like a precious movie star in the hopes that you won’t, either. That’s why she lives where she lives and why, as she perched on the wall opposite me in an olive puffer jacket, she asked me not to divulge the name of her town. That morning’s phone call aside, “I get to live my more authentic self here,” she said, “and I don’t have to pretend to be anybody else.” She nodded toward the beach, where a handful of people cavorted with their dogs and surfboards. “I don’t mind being their movie star,” she said. “I’m just not going to be yours.” STILL, THE LINE BETWEEN McDORMAND and her characters will only grow blurrier with the release of her intimate new film, “Nomadland.” In this sunset-dappled drama from the director Chloé Zhao, McDormand plays Fern, a widow who packs her things into a van and joins up with a tribe of older itinerant workers to spend their golden years working odd jobs all across the American West. “Nomadland” would eventually require more from this private star than she is used to giving, but when McDormand first met with Zhao in early 2018, she was mostly curious what the up-and-coming director would think of her: “I was like, ‘Man, I just want to be relevant. Do you think I’m relevant?’” Perhaps that’s a surprising admission for a woman who was then on the verge of winning her second Oscar, for “Three Billboards,” but McDormand had just entered her 60s and worried that good opportunities could prove harder to find. Even before that, most of her best-known roles had required some hustle to obtain, which is part of the reason McDormand has lately become a producer, too. “Our industry is such an ageist industry,” Zhao told me by phone. “Someone like Frances McDormand who is just so authentically herself, who has not tried to erase those lines on her face or cover that up to fit into the industry — to me, she’ll be relevant forever.” And it was exactly that authentic self that intrigued Zhao. In her previous films, “The Rider” and “Songs My Brothers Taught Me,” Zhao had cast nonprofessionals and built character arcs for them that were inspired by their actual experiences. “Nomadland,” based on a nonfiction book by Jessica Bruder, would offer her the same opportunity: Real nomads from Bruder’s book, like Linda May and Swankie, were enticed to play pivotal supporting roles in the film. But since Zhao wanted those women to simply be themselves in front of the camera, she decided that for the sake of coherence, McDormand would need to play a version of herself, too. “It’s very interesting, the layers of it,” Zhao said. “Fran is playing Fern, but even the name ‘Fern’ came from herself and who she thinks she might be if she hit the road.” In fact, McDormand had long harbored a fantasy of turning her back on Hollywood, changing her name, and setting off in an RV upon reaching her 60s. “Chloé tapped into the truth of it,” McDormand said, “which was at different points of my life, I’ve said to my husband, ‘I can’t take this anymore, I’m dropping out.’” “Nomadland” let McDormand play out that dream and a few others. Many of the people McDormand interacts with in the film had no idea she was a famous actress — they figured she was just another nomad, and spoke to her like a normal person in exactly the way that she craves. In some ways, all that verisimilitude could be grueling, too — McDormand was surprised at how exhausted she would feel after long days of simply being present in front of the camera, reacting to the stories real people unspooled. Zhao also asked McDormand to put in actual hours at Fern’s odd jobs, like harvesting beets in Nebraska or working at a warehouse in California. But the result is a performance that McDormand has never given before, one that has less to do with acting and more to do with simply being. As Los Angeles Times critic Justin Chang wrote in his “Nomadland” review, “McDormand doesn’t disappear into Fern; she’s revealed by Fern, and Fern is revealed by her.” That sort of ineffable, hard-to-pin-down portrait was exactly Zhao’s intention. “I like to think that we have captured a great performance,” she said, “but also, an essence of Fran as well.” Still, the director and her star sometimes disagreed on just how much of that essence to use. Details both large and small have been pulled directly from McDormand’s real life: Fern proudly shows off a set of plates that McDormand’s father bought her as a college graduation gift, and Zhao cast one of the actress’s oldest friends as Fern’s sister so the recriminations they air in the film could have a real weight. But when Zhao floated the idea of finding a role in the film for McDormand’s son, Pedro, or suggested that Fern’s dead spouse, glimpsed only in a photograph, should be played by McDormand’s actual husband, Joel Coen, her lead drew a line in the sand. “I have to believe that it’s not just a documentary of me,” McDormand said. “I did create a character, just like I’ve created myself in 63 years, too.” FOR MOST OF HER LIFE, McDormand has been fascinated by the formula through which one concocts a self-image. How much does it have to do with authenticity, and to what extent is it constructed by playing pretend? “I would say probably fifth grade is the first time I can remember, ‘Oh, I know what they think I am, and I’m going to subvert it,’” she told me. What they knew about McDormand then was that she was the adopted daughter of Vernon McDormand, a minister for the Disciples of Christ. That sort of role in that sort of family required a certain amount of public respectability, but as she got older, and an English teacher at McDormand’s school in Monessen, Pennsylvania, asked her to read the role of Lady Macbeth in a workshop, she found herself thrilled to leave propriety at the door. “That was the hook,” McDormand said. “It was the power of being a really shy, slightly suspect seventh-grader who could stand in front of a group of people and keep their attention.” She loved, too, that Shakespeare’s female characters were as power-hungry as the men: “It’s like I used to say to Joel, ‘Why don’t you guys write better roles for women? In fact, why don’t you just write a role for men and then let me play it?’” She had married Coen not long after making her screen debut in the 1984 noir “Blood Simple,” which he directed with Ethan. Twelve years later, the Coen brothers would give McDormand her signature role, one that could only be played by a woman: Marge, the chirpy, pregnant police chief in “Fargo.” That film made her famous, a condition that McDormand considered a fire to be stomped out: After hiring a publicist, she almost immediately instructed him to turn down most requests. “I made a very conscious effort not to do press and publicity for 10 years in what other people would think would be a very dangerous moment in a female actor’s career, but it paid off for exactly the reasons I wanted it to,” she said. “It gave me a mystery back to who I was, and then in the roles I performed, I could take an audience to a place where someone who sold watches or perfume and magazines couldn’t.” To her, “Nomadland” is the culmination of that effort to keep herself unspoiled in the public eye. “That’s why it works,” she said. “That’s why Chloé could bear to even think of doing this with me, because of what I’ve created for years not just as an actor, but in my personal life.” We traipsed back through town, and as we walked up a hill covered in overgrowth and eucalyptus trees, McDormand drew one final line: “So I’m going to pass my house, and then I’m going to leave you,” she said. She asked if I had dinner plans, and directed me to a farm stand I could stop by on the way home. “They’ve got gorgeous little gems and some good old arugula,” she said, “but no eggs right now because the chickens are all cold.” As McDormand offered me kindly advice while standing in front of a felled eucalyptus trunk, I could have sworn I was talking to Fern, who is so practical and self-reliant. It reminded me of a story she had told me earlier: Not long ago, for the drive-in premiere of “Nomadland” in Pasadena, California, McDormand had decided to pull the van from the film out of storage. She thought it would be fun to sit in during the screening, but when she came face to face with the car she had lovingly named “Vanguard,” McDormand found herself overcome. She had considered that van “the interior life of Fern, and therefore me,” she said, and to see Vanguard dirty and filled with junk after two years apart was almost too much to bear. An hour and a half into their reunion, Coen found McDormand still scrubbing the car, dripping sweat, insisting that she needed just a little more time with Vanguard. “I’m cleaning her,” McDormand told him. “I can’t let her go!” It isn’t easy to move on when you’ve made something that requires so much of you. Before we parted ways, I asked McDormand how she felt after making “Nomadland.” I thought she scoffed at me, but she was laughing at the very idea. “Well, at what point?” she said. “Is it afterwards? I don’t know!” Then she shoved her hands into the pockets of her puffer jacket and disappeared into the eucalyptus grove, taking Fern with her.

What Frances McDormand would (and wouldn’t) give to 'Nomadland'

If you have been thinking of watching the much-in-news film ‘The Trial of the Chicago 7’ but don’t have a subscription to the Netflix film, we have great news for you.

Commemorating 51 years after the announcement of the verdict in that much publicised case, the whole world will get to watch the film as <a href="https://www.wionews.com/topics/netflix">Netflix</a> has announced that the film will be made available globally for free.&nbsp;

It will be available to stream on Netflix’s YouTube channel for a period of 48 hours.&nbsp;

In a statement, Trial's writer/director Aaron Sorkin said, "When we began shooting last winter, we knew the story we were telling was not only an important chapter of American history, but was plenty relevant to current events. We certainly didn’t need it to get more relevant, but it did."

Sorkin, referring to "the patriots who inspired a generation — actually, generations — to take to the streets and uphold the foundations of our US Constitution, along with the courageous voices that continue to do so today," added, "It's our honor to share their story with the world."

If you have been thinking of watching the much-in-news film ‘The Trial of the Chicago 7’ but don’t have a subscription to the Netflix film, we have great news for you.

If you have been thinking of watching the much-in-news film ‘The Trial of the Chicago 7’ but don’t have a subscription to the Netflix film, we have great news for you. Commemorating 51 years after the announcement of the verdict in that much publicised case, the whole world will get to watch the film as Netflix has announced that the film will be made available globally for free. It will be available to stream on Netflix’s YouTube channel for a period of 48 hours. In a statement, Trial's writer/director Aaron Sorkin said, "When we began shooting last winter, we knew the story we were telling was not only an important chapter of American history, but was plenty relevant to current events. We certainly didn’t need it to get more relevant, but it did." Sorkin, referring to "the patriots who inspired a generation — actually, generations — to take to the streets and uphold the foundations of our US Constitution, along with the courageous voices that continue to do so today," added, "It's our honor to share their story with the world."

You can now watch 'Trial of Chicago 7' for free on Netflix on this special occasion

Three years ago, Natalie Portman presented the best director category at the Golden Globes with a sting in her voice.

“Here are the all-male nominees,” she said.

This year, for the very first time, a majority of the directors in that category are women. It was announced last week that Chloé Zhao ('Nomadland'), Regina King ('One Night in Miami') and Emerald Fennell ('Promising Young Woman') will vie for the best director Globe alongside David Fincher ('Mank') and Aaron Sorkin ('The Trial of the Chicago 7'), and those same filmmakers may well hear their names again when the Oscar nominations are read March 15.

In a category that has historically overlooked female directors, this feels like progress. After all, only five women have ever been nominated for the best director Oscar, and if Zhao, King and Fennell all make it in, that number would nearly double in a single year.

But look a little closer, and there’s still a pernicious double standard at play: Fincher and Sorkin were given tens of millions to make their films, while the women had to make do with much less. 'Nomadland'&nbsp;cost under $5 million, 'One Night in Miami'&nbsp;was budgeted at $16.9 million and “Promising Young Woman” fell somewhere in between.

None of the five women previously nominated for the best director Oscar have had it any better: Jane Campion (“The Piano”), Sofia Coppola (“Lost in Translation”) and Greta Gerwig (“Lady Bird”) made their movies for $10 million or less, and Kathryn Bigelow’s budget for “The Hurt Locker” — a scant $15 million — is the most that a female nominee in this category has ever been given.

I don’t point this out to sound like a sad trombone in the Oscars’ orchestra pit, because when history is made during awards season, I believe it’s worth celebrating. This particular year could produce the most diverse lineup of Oscar nominees ever, as women and people of color are projected to make up the majority in several top races.

But I know it will be tempting for Hollywood to give out those laurels and then rest on them. For example, in a year that is almost certain to see nominated actors like Riz Ahmed (“Sound of Metal”), Viola Davis and Chadwick Boseman (“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”), Daniel Kaluuya (“Judas and the Black Messiah”) and Leslie Odom, Jr. (“One Night in Miami”), academy members may crow that #OscarsSoWhite is a thing of the past.

It isn’t that simple, and even this potentially landmark awards season still offers ample proof.

Just look at the Golden Globes’ most prestigious category, best drama, where none of the year’s major Black-led films were nominated. Not “One Night in Miami,” not “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” not “Judas and the Black Messiah” and not “Da 5 Bloods.”

Or look to BAFTA, considered the British equivalent of the Oscars, and the group’s “longlists” for each category, released last week. Spike Lee’s Vietnam-vet drama “Da 5 Bloods” landed on nine of those longlists — including best film, screenplay, and editing — but Lee was pointedly left out of the group of 20 filmmakers nominated for best director. (If BAFTA voters were trying to send a message to Lee, did they realize the rest of the world was BCC’d?)

You could even look to last year, when “Parasite” made Oscar history as the first film not in the English language to win best picture but couldn’t earn a single nomination in the acting categories. Awkwafina and Zhao Shuzhen, hailing from a critics’ favorite, “The Farewell,” were similarly snubbed by the academy, and those exclusions led Vulture’s E. Alex Jung to write about “an old prejudice at work here that sees Asian people as technical workers.”

That’s why Jung felt that filmmakers like Bong Joon Ho and Ang Lee could win Oscars while the actors from their films were wholly overlooked, and it’s why I wonder about the ultimate fate of the forthcoming “Minari,” Lee Isaac Chung’s moving family drama starring Steven Yeun, Yeri Han and Yuh-Jung Youn. Even though a Korean movie has now won best picture at the Oscars, no Korean or Korean American actor has ever so much as been nominated. Can the actors of “Minari” break through those long-held biases?

Things look more promising at the Independent Spirit Awards, where “Minari” scored three acting nominations and was recognized in the screenplay, director and best feature categories, too. At this ceremony, which will be held days before the Oscars in April, the feature and director categories are exclusively made up of nominated movies directed by women and people of color.

But is that a road map for the academy to follow as it enacts new diversity guidelines, or is it a reminder of the limits that have already plagued this industry for far too long? To be eligible for the Independent Spirit Awards, a movie must be made for less than $22.5 million. During awards season, directors from underrepresented groups are rarely working with much more.

Zhao, King and Fennell may still make this year’s Oscar lineup, but what will happen next year, when even more expensive movies like Steven Spielberg’s “West Side Story” reenter the fray? Those films had the luxury of waiting out the pandemic for a more advantageous theatrical release, and the best director category could easily tilt back toward the sort of auteur-driven spectacle that men dominate and nominate.

No matter what happens this awards season or the next, voters should remember that progress isn’t simply secured — it’s something you have to keep reaching for. Back in 2014, there were people of color in most of the acting categories, Alfonso Cuarón (“Gravity”) won the directing Oscar, and Steve McQueen’s “12 Years a Slave” took best picture.

The very next year kicked off #OscarsSoWhite.

Three years ago, Natalie Portman presented the best director category at the Golden Globes with a sting in her voice. “Here are the all-male nominees,” she said.

Three years ago, Natalie Portman presented the best director category at the Golden Globes with a sting in her voice. “Here are the all-male nominees,” she said. This year, for the very first time, a majority of the directors in that category are women. It was announced last week that Chloé Zhao ('Nomadland'), Regina King ('One Night in Miami') and Emerald Fennell ('Promising Young Woman') will vie for the best director Globe alongside David Fincher ('Mank') and Aaron Sorkin ('The Trial of the Chicago 7'), and those same filmmakers may well hear their names again when the Oscar nominations are read March 15. In a category that has historically overlooked female directors, this feels like progress. After all, only five women have ever been nominated for the best director Oscar, and if Zhao, King and Fennell all make it in, that number would nearly double in a single year. But look a little closer, and there’s still a pernicious double standard at play: Fincher and Sorkin were given tens of millions to make their films, while the women had to make do with much less. 'Nomadland' cost under $5 million, 'One Night in Miami' was budgeted at $16.9 million and “Promising Young Woman” fell somewhere in between. None of the five women previously nominated for the best director Oscar have had it any better: Jane Campion (“The Piano”), Sofia Coppola (“Lost in Translation”) and Greta Gerwig (“Lady Bird”) made their movies for $10 million or less, and Kathryn Bigelow’s budget for “The Hurt Locker” — a scant $15 million — is the most that a female nominee in this category has ever been given. I don’t point this out to sound like a sad trombone in the Oscars’ orchestra pit, because when history is made during awards season, I believe it’s worth celebrating. This particular year could produce the most diverse lineup of Oscar nominees ever, as women and people of color are projected to make up the majority in several top races. But I know it will be tempting for Hollywood to give out those laurels and then rest on them. For example, in a year that is almost certain to see nominated actors like Riz Ahmed (“Sound of Metal”), Viola Davis and Chadwick Boseman (“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”), Daniel Kaluuya (“Judas and the Black Messiah”) and Leslie Odom, Jr. (“One Night in Miami”), academy members may crow that #OscarsSoWhite is a thing of the past. It isn’t that simple, and even this potentially landmark awards season still offers ample proof. Just look at the Golden Globes’ most prestigious category, best drama, where none of the year’s major Black-led films were nominated. Not “One Night in Miami,” not “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” not “Judas and the Black Messiah” and not “Da 5 Bloods.” Or look to BAFTA, considered the British equivalent of the Oscars, and the group’s “longlists” for each category, released last week. Spike Lee’s Vietnam-vet drama “Da 5 Bloods” landed on nine of those longlists — including best film, screenplay, and editing — but Lee was pointedly left out of the group of 20 filmmakers nominated for best director. (If BAFTA voters were trying to send a message to Lee, did they realize the rest of the world was BCC’d?) You could even look to last year, when “Parasite” made Oscar history as the first film not in the English language to win best picture but couldn’t earn a single nomination in the acting categories. Awkwafina and Zhao Shuzhen, hailing from a critics’ favorite, “The Farewell,” were similarly snubbed by the academy, and those exclusions led Vulture’s E. Alex Jung to write about “an old prejudice at work here that sees Asian people as technical workers.” That’s why Jung felt that filmmakers like Bong Joon Ho and Ang Lee could win Oscars while the actors from their films were wholly overlooked, and it’s why I wonder about the ultimate fate of the forthcoming “Minari,” Lee Isaac Chung’s moving family drama starring Steven Yeun, Yeri Han and Yuh-Jung Youn. Even though a Korean movie has now won best picture at the Oscars, no Korean or Korean American actor has ever so much as been nominated. Can the actors of “Minari” break through those long-held biases? Things look more promising at the Independent Spirit Awards, where “Minari” scored three acting nominations and was recognized in the screenplay, director and best feature categories, too. At this ceremony, which will be held days before the Oscars in April, the feature and director categories are exclusively made up of nominated movies directed by women and people of color. But is that a road map for the academy to follow as it enacts new diversity guidelines, or is it a reminder of the limits that have already plagued this industry for far too long? To be eligible for the Independent Spirit Awards, a movie must be made for less than $22.5 million. During awards season, directors from underrepresented groups are rarely working with much more. Zhao, King and Fennell may still make this year’s Oscar lineup, but what will happen next year, when even more expensive movies like Steven Spielberg’s “West Side Story” reenter the fray? Those films had the luxury of waiting out the pandemic for a more advantageous theatrical release, and the best director category could easily tilt back toward the sort of auteur-driven spectacle that men dominate and nominate. No matter what happens this awards season or the next, voters should remember that progress isn’t simply secured — it’s something you have to keep reaching for. Back in 2014, there were people of color in most of the acting categories, Alfonso Cuarón (“Gravity”) won the directing Oscar, and Steve McQueen’s “12 Years a Slave” took best picture. The very next year kicked off #OscarsSoWhite.

It could be the most diverse Oscars ever, but the problem isn’t solved

Priyanka Chopra Jonas isn’t the kind to let a minute of her life slip away, even when life is on lockdown.

While others were perfecting their sourdough starters last spring, Chopra Jonas decided to write her first book — and finished it. As quarantine fatigue curtailed our enthusiasm for crafting and Kondo-izing, she was in London shooting the romantic drama “Text for You” alongside Sam Heughan and Celine Dion.

By the time a lot of us had been rendered bloblike, Chopra Jonas was in overdrive, simultaneously promoting three projects: her Netflix movie, “The White Tiger,” adapted from Aravind Adiga’s Booker Prize-winning rags-to-riches novel about a self-made Bangalore businessman; her memoir, “Unfinished,” which chronicles her 38 years, including her reign as Miss World and breakthrough into Bollywood and eventually Hollywood; and her new sustainable hair care line, Anomaly.

As if that weren’t enough, she was prepping to shoot “Citadel,” a spy series directed by the Russo brothers for Amazon, which had been delayed a year because of COVID-19 restrictions.

Through it all, Chopra Jonas was still finding room for some self-care and shut-eye, “which has to be scheduled time, because otherwise I would never get sleep,” she said. In a phone call in late January from her home in London, Chopra Jonas tracked the recent routines and cultural items that are keeping her busy.

These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

Wednesday morning

In our profession, my routine is dictated by the schedule that my team decides for me, predominantly. So the only thing routine-y about my schedule is I always make sure I have at least eight hours of sleep. My coffee machine is in my bedroom, right by my bed. The first thing I do is press the Nespresso button and smell the aroma of the coffee, and that’s how my eyes open.

Then I check out the news and scroll through Twitter usually still when I’m in bed. I need five or 10 minutes to orient myself to the fact that I’m waking up. On a languid day, maybe it would be half an hour. This ritual is ultimately what led me to “The White Tiger.” There was so much chatter around it in literary circles. I’m an avid reader. I try and pick up the books everyone’s talking about because I don’t really have the luxury of time to discover my own favourites.

My days start with a workout, usually on Zoom with my trainer. I started getting consistent with working out during quarantine. I hate working out otherwise. I’m not one of those people who’s like, “Oh my gosh, I enjoy it so much that I need it.” I listen to Hindi rap, like Raftaar and Divine, while I work out. It’s alive and visceral.

Wednesday afternoon

I watched the inauguration, and I think I felt exactly what the world was feeling. It was a very emotional time for a lot of my friends and family in America, and I felt very excited about the fact that the country is stepping into the right direction in terms of leadership. Not only should leadership look like this, but also sound like this. As someone coming from a country who has had many females in high positions of power, it’s awesome to see the U.S. finally get their first.

My days for the past two weeks have been back-to-back with recording my audiobook and promo, and [together] it takes 12 to 13 hours a day. I filmed three talk show interviews — Kelly Clarkson, Lilly Singh and Ellen — and I recorded a few podcasts and did several phone interviews. I think I was one of the earlier people to commit to the fact that we’re going to be working off Zoom for a really long time. So I found a corner of my room with a fireplace where I do all my Zoom calls.

Wednesday night

Before bed, I always need a few hours to unwind, and this is usually when I watch TV or read. Right now I’m reading “Amnesty,” Aravind Adiga’s next novel. I obviously am a fan. This is based in Australia, and it’s about a Sri Lankan immigrant, and it’s a thriller from his perspective. I do love to get out of work mode and just enjoy the content for what it is. But most of my reading I do with both [enjoyment and the idea of a project] in mind.

I haven’t been able to commit to a TV show because of how busy my schedule is. I recently finished “The Undoing,” “The Boys” and “Bridgerton” but I’m also really into movies after dinner. I’ve watched a lot of the Oscar contenders — “Sound of Metal,” “Da 5 Bloods,” “One Night in Miami.”

Thursday morning

Finally, I had some semblance of a morning I don’t even know how long. I woke up by 10, had a quick workout and then I had luxurious brunch with my mom, who is living in London with me. She was here with my husband during the holidays so that we could be together. I felt safer with her around me. My husband left-top of the year, but I didn’t let my mom go. So I’ve sort of kidnapped her right now.

Thursday afternoon

My first call wasn’t until 2 — a prep call with the producers of “Citadel,” which I am so excited to start. Prep calls are usually character development, which is one of my favourite things. The most exciting job as an actor is when you have the ability to take someone off the page and really breathe life into them.

Thursday night

Then it was back to promo. Unlike normal junkets where you’re local and live with the media, we have been up early and late to hit markets all over the world. Tonight we ended with “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert” at 1 am.

I couldn’t sleep, because you know when you go beyond tired on the other side of the hill? That happened. Then I was on TikTok for hours. I’m a secret admirer, so I consume whatever they show me. It’s a lot of baby videos or doggy videos or kitten videos.

We got a quarantine pet, yes, we did! He’s Panda, and he’s a rescue. I got Nick a German shepherd for our anniversary last year, and my dog, Diana, who I’ve had for four years, she’s a rescue as well. So we had the two. But Nick’s parents were visiting and they brought their girls with them, and the house was full of four dogs, and it was so amazing that after Nick’s parents left, I was kind of feeling like, we need another dog. He’s a mix between an Australian shepherd and a husky. And he’s a punk. He deliberately defies you but he’s so adorable that you forget everything. He’s in LA with Nick at the moment, but they should be coming here sometime next month.

Friday morning

It was my last free weekday before I start “Citadel,” which I’ll be filming until next November. It was also release day of “The White Tiger.” Release day is filled with a roller coaster of emotions, but always with bright eyes and hope for a strong opening. I’m so proud to share this film with the world.

Friday afternoon

I did “Hot Ones.” Oh my God. I’ve done it before on Jimmy Fallon, and it almost killed me. But this time — and I love spicy food. I need hot sauce. I carry it everywhere — but some of the hot sauces are like poison. They’re insane how spicy they are. I literally felt like I was going to faint. I had to open the doors up and walk outside and eat ice cream and milk, and I was crying. Ghost pepper was at No. 4. So you could imagine what No. 10 was.

Friday night

I did a viewing party for “The White Tiger” with a lot of my family and friends all on Zoom. It is such a provocative tale of something that all of us have become so desensitized to, which is this large division between the haves and the have-nots. And COVID specifically showed the world that disparity so glaringly. When is the last time you’ve driven past a homeless shelter or a homeless person and not done anything about it? A majority of the world lives in circumstances like that, so it’s really a sort of mirror into self-reflection. I’m very proud of the movie because it has social commentary, but at the same time it’s sarcastic, funny, dark and really clever.

Priyanka Chopra Jonas isn’t the kind to let a minute of her life slip away, even when life is on lockdown. While others were perfecting their sourdough starters last spring, Chopra Jonas decided to write her first book — and finished it.

Priyanka Chopra Jonas isn’t the kind to let a minute of her life slip away, even when life is on lockdown. While others were perfecting their sourdough starters last spring, Chopra Jonas decided to write her first book — and finished it. As quarantine fatigue curtailed our enthusiasm for crafting and Kondo-izing, she was in London shooting the romantic drama “Text for You” alongside Sam Heughan and Celine Dion. By the time a lot of us had been rendered bloblike, Chopra Jonas was in overdrive, simultaneously promoting three projects: her Netflix movie, “The White Tiger,” adapted from Aravind Adiga’s Booker Prize-winning rags-to-riches novel about a self-made Bangalore businessman; her memoir, “Unfinished,” which chronicles her 38 years, including her reign as Miss World and breakthrough into Bollywood and eventually Hollywood; and her new sustainable hair care line, Anomaly. As if that weren’t enough, she was prepping to shoot “Citadel,” a spy series directed by the Russo brothers for Amazon, which had been delayed a year because of COVID-19 restrictions. Through it all, Chopra Jonas was still finding room for some self-care and shut-eye, “which has to be scheduled time, because otherwise I would never get sleep,” she said. In a phone call in late January from her home in London, Chopra Jonas tracked the recent routines and cultural items that are keeping her busy. These are edited excerpts from the conversation. Wednesday morning In our profession, my routine is dictated by the schedule that my team decides for me, predominantly. So the only thing routine-y about my schedule is I always make sure I have at least eight hours of sleep. My coffee machine is in my bedroom, right by my bed. The first thing I do is press the Nespresso button and smell the aroma of the coffee, and that’s how my eyes open. Then I check out the news and scroll through Twitter usually still when I’m in bed. I need five or 10 minutes to orient myself to the fact that I’m waking up. On a languid day, maybe it would be half an hour. This ritual is ultimately what led me to “The White Tiger.” There was so much chatter around it in literary circles. I’m an avid reader. I try and pick up the books everyone’s talking about because I don’t really have the luxury of time to discover my own favourites. My days start with a workout, usually on Zoom with my trainer. I started getting consistent with working out during quarantine. I hate working out otherwise. I’m not one of those people who’s like, “Oh my gosh, I enjoy it so much that I need it.” I listen to Hindi rap, like Raftaar and Divine, while I work out. It’s alive and visceral. Wednesday afternoon I watched the inauguration, and I think I felt exactly what the world was feeling. It was a very emotional time for a lot of my friends and family in America, and I felt very excited about the fact that the country is stepping into the right direction in terms of leadership. Not only should leadership look like this, but also sound like this. As someone coming from a country who has had many females in high positions of power, it’s awesome to see the U.S. finally get their first. My days for the past two weeks have been back-to-back with recording my audiobook and promo, and [together] it takes 12 to 13 hours a day. I filmed three talk show interviews — Kelly Clarkson, Lilly Singh and Ellen — and I recorded a few podcasts and did several phone interviews. I think I was one of the earlier people to commit to the fact that we’re going to be working off Zoom for a really long time. So I found a corner of my room with a fireplace where I do all my Zoom calls. Wednesday night Before bed, I always need a few hours to unwind, and this is usually when I watch TV or read. Right now I’m reading “Amnesty,” Aravind Adiga’s next novel. I obviously am a fan. This is based in Australia, and it’s about a Sri Lankan immigrant, and it’s a thriller from his perspective. I do love to get out of work mode and just enjoy the content for what it is. But most of my reading I do with both [enjoyment and the idea of a project] in mind. I haven’t been able to commit to a TV show because of how busy my schedule is. I recently finished “The Undoing,” “The Boys” and “Bridgerton” but I’m also really into movies after dinner. I’ve watched a lot of the Oscar contenders — “Sound of Metal,” “Da 5 Bloods,” “One Night in Miami.” Thursday morning Finally, I had some semblance of a morning I don’t even know how long. I woke up by 10, had a quick workout and then I had luxurious brunch with my mom, who is living in London with me. She was here with my husband during the holidays so that we could be together. I felt safer with her around me. My husband left-top of the year, but I didn’t let my mom go. So I’ve sort of kidnapped her right now. Thursday afternoon My first call wasn’t until 2 — a prep call with the producers of “Citadel,” which I am so excited to start. Prep calls are usually character development, which is one of my favourite things. The most exciting job as an actor is when you have the ability to take someone off the page and really breathe life into them. Thursday night Then it was back to promo. Unlike normal junkets where you’re local and live with the media, we have been up early and late to hit markets all over the world. Tonight we ended with “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert” at 1 am. I couldn’t sleep, because you know when you go beyond tired on the other side of the hill? That happened. Then I was on TikTok for hours. I’m a secret admirer, so I consume whatever they show me. It’s a lot of baby videos or doggy videos or kitten videos. We got a quarantine pet, yes, we did! He’s Panda, and he’s a rescue. I got Nick a German shepherd for our anniversary last year, and my dog, Diana, who I’ve had for four years, she’s a rescue as well. So we had the two. But Nick’s parents were visiting and they brought their girls with them, and the house was full of four dogs, and it was so amazing that after Nick’s parents left, I was kind of feeling like, we need another dog. He’s a mix between an Australian shepherd and a husky. And he’s a punk. He deliberately defies you but he’s so adorable that you forget everything. He’s in LA with Nick at the moment, but they should be coming here sometime next month. Friday morning It was my last free weekday before I start “Citadel,” which I’ll be filming until next November. It was also release day of “The White Tiger.” Release day is filled with a roller coaster of emotions, but always with bright eyes and hope for a strong opening. I’m so proud to share this film with the world. Friday afternoon I did “Hot Ones.” Oh my God. I’ve done it before on Jimmy Fallon, and it almost killed me. But this time — and I love spicy food. I need hot sauce. I carry it everywhere — but some of the hot sauces are like poison. They’re insane how spicy they are. I literally felt like I was going to faint. I had to open the doors up and walk outside and eat ice cream and milk, and I was crying. Ghost pepper was at No. 4. So you could imagine what No. 10 was. Friday night I did a viewing party for “The White Tiger” with a lot of my family and friends all on Zoom. It is such a provocative tale of something that all of us have become so desensitized to, which is this large division between the haves and the have-nots. And COVID specifically showed the world that disparity so glaringly. When is the last time you’ve driven past a homeless shelter or a homeless person and not done anything about it? A majority of the world lives in circumstances like that, so it’s really a sort of mirror into self-reflection. I’m very proud of the movie because it has social commentary, but at the same time it’s sarcastic, funny, dark and really clever.

Priyanka Chopra Jonas’s Week: Fireside Zoom calls and 'Bridgerton' episodes

The 2021 edition of the Cannes Film Festival will be postponed until July because of the coronavirus pandemic, organisers said on Wednesday.

Cannes Film Festival postponed due to COVID-19

After leading&nbsp;the National Society of Film Critics awards,&nbsp;Chloé Zhao’s Nomadland took home Best Feature at the Gotham Awards as well.&nbsp;

<a href="https://www.wionews.com/entertainment/nomadland-named-best-picture-by-national-society-of-film-critics-355719">Chloé Zhao’s directorial dominated the entirely female-directed nominees,</a> as it won&nbsp;the evening’s Audience Award. Meanwhile, Radha Blank’s The Forty-Year-Old Version and Dan Sallitt’s Fourteen tied for Best Screenplay.&nbsp; Ramona S. Diaz’s A Thousand Cuts and Garrett Bradley’s Time also tied for Best Documentary.

Over in the acting awards, Riz Ahmed took home Best Actor for&nbsp;Amazon’s Sound of Metal, while Miss Juneteenth’s Nicole Beharie was awarded Best Actress and Kingsley Ben-Adir won Breakthrough Actor for One Night in Miami. 
 
On the television front, Damon Lindelof’s Watchmen and Michaela Coel’s I May Destroy You won Breakthrough Series, for the Over 40 Minutes and Under 40 Minutes category, respectively. The evening also included an Actress Tribute to Viola Davis and an Actor Tribute in honor of the late Chadwick Boseman.&nbsp; 
 
Here's the full list of winners at Gotham Awards: 
&nbsp;

Best Feature

Nomadland

Best Documentary

A Thousand Cuts 
Time

Best International Feature

Identifying Features

 
Breakthrough Director Award

Andrew Patterson for The Vast of Night&nbsp;

Best Screenplay

The Forty-Year-Old Version, Radha Blank 
Fourteen, Dan Sallitt

 
Best Actor

Riz Ahmed in Sound of Metal&nbsp;

Best Actress 
Nicole Beharie in Miss Juneteenth&nbsp;

 
Breakthrough Actor

Kingsley Ben-Adir in One Night in Miami

Breakthrough Series — Long Format (over 40 minutes) 
Watchmen

Breakthrough Series — Short Format (under 40 minutes) 
I May Destroy You

&nbsp;

After leading the National Society of Film Critics awards, Chloé Zhao’s Nomadland took home Best Feature at the Gotham Awards as well. Chloé Zhao’s directorial dominated the entirely female-directed nominees, as it won the evening’s Audience Award.

After leading the National Society of Film Critics awards, Chloé Zhao’s Nomadland took home Best Feature at the Gotham Awards as well. Chloé Zhao’s directorial dominated the entirely female-directed nominees, as it won the evening’s Audience Award. Meanwhile, Radha Blank’s The Forty-Year-Old Version and Dan Sallitt’s Fourteen tied for Best Screenplay. Ramona S. Diaz’s A Thousand Cuts and Garrett Bradley’s Time also tied for Best Documentary. Over in the acting awards, Riz Ahmed took home Best Actor for Amazon’s Sound of Metal, while Miss Juneteenth’s Nicole Beharie was awarded Best Actress and Kingsley Ben-Adir won Breakthrough Actor for One Night in Miami. On the television front, Damon Lindelof’s Watchmen and Michaela Coel’s I May Destroy You won Breakthrough Series, for the Over 40 Minutes and Under 40 Minutes category, respectively. The evening also included an Actress Tribute to Viola Davis and an Actor Tribute in honor of the late Chadwick Boseman. Here's the full list of winners at Gotham Awards: Best Feature Nomadland Best Documentary A Thousand Cuts Time Best International Feature Identifying Features Breakthrough Director Award Andrew Patterson for The Vast of Night Best Screenplay The Forty-Year-Old Version, Radha Blank Fourteen, Dan Sallitt Best Actor Riz Ahmed in Sound of Metal Best Actress Nicole Beharie in Miss Juneteenth Breakthrough Actor Kingsley Ben-Adir in One Night in Miami Breakthrough Series — Long Format (over 40 minutes) Watchmen Breakthrough Series — Short Format (under 40 minutes) I May Destroy You

'Nomadland' wins best feature film at Gotham Awards: Check out the full list

Oh, the stains. The staaaains! It’s the stains that truly obsess Drew Barrymore.

“I’m a stan for stains,” she said on a recent episode of “The Drew Barrymore Show,” her syndicated talk show that premiered nationally in mid-September. Not that she knew what a “stan”— a portmanteau of “stalker” and “fan” — actually was, which explains why she pronounced it “stand.” Whatever.

Barrymore, 45, was wearing a white lab coat over an olive green shirt, a pussy bow peeking out. Boldly labeled bottles — Laundry Detergent, Club Soda, Hand Soap, Rubbing Alcohol — were lined up on a table. As she told the audience, she’s a mother, and thus constantly rubbing, scrubbing and scouring.

This is a source of enormous pleasure. “I love concocting the perfect solutions, products, combinations, treatments, methodologies,” she said with her signature lisp. She might as well have been Carol Channing in the Gen X classic “Free to Be You and Me.”

But Barrymore wasn’t rhapsodizing about the need to share housework or the evils of advertising. Along with interior design and food, which the show also covers, stain removal is a lifelong passion. She asked viewers to send her their most aggressive soils, and she — actress, producer, director, author, Golden Globe winner, former emancipated minor, three-time ex-wife, two-time mother, beauty entrepreneur and now host — would help them fix it.

Solving these sorts of human disasters is one of several bits on Barrymore’s sunny and frenetic show, “a jolt of optimism in a turbulent time,” as she said in a recent interview.

It was the Monday after Joe Biden’s win was announced, and Barrymore was feeling a bit wistful. People had been partying in the streets all weekend, but she and her two daughters, Olive Barrymore Kopelman, 8, and Frankie Barrymore Kopelman, 6, were out of town and missed the festivities.

“We felt like old fuddy-duddies,” she said. “We were all having FOMO. But I was also processing all weekend. I felt really internal and quiet, and I tried to think about how I could address it on the show.”

This was more challenging than it may sound, because “TDBS,” as it’s called by fans and those who produce the show, is supposed to appeal to everyone. The show is a “safe space,” and as Barrymore said in her four-minute, 38-second opening monologue that morning, “I didn’t want to gloat because I know there are people out there who are hurting.”

She teared up, as she does often. Like when her ex-husband Tom Green, whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to in about 15 years, came on the show and they reminisced. Or when a psychic medium told Barrymore that Will Kopelman, to whom she was married until 2016, had relatives on the Other Side who loved her and considered her a member of the family.

Barrymore, a “little bit of a skeptic who also believes in everything,” bawled. (Kopelman later told Page Six that one of the alleged spirits was alive and well in Boston.)

She Shares, and She Cares

Barrymore, famously, is not only a crier but also a sharer, even before the sharing economy picked up online. She has always been quick to confess her fears, her insecurities; she unspools ribbons of words at record speed. In a recent Instagram post, she told her 13.6 million followers that she’s been eating her stress lately and needed a “brassiere thing” to fit into her pants. “For anyone who has to put an extender on your pants, well, just know — I feel ya,” she said.

Candor has long come naturally to Barrymore. A native Angeleno, she moved to New York six years ago with Kopelman, an art adviser. They had married in 2012 in a “very Jewish” ceremony; their children are being raised Jewish, although Barrymore didn’t officially convert. But she celebrates all the holidays, which makes her … Drewish?

Moving to New York was jarring. East Coast winters felt brutal. And then, in 2016, just when she was kind of getting used to it, she and Kopelman divorced.

“Nothing I’ve ever been through compared to this divorce,” she said. “This was the first big thing that I went through that was involving a few people I care about far more than myself. I was depressed for, like, five years. I just wasn’t coping with it very well.”

Time helped. So does 20 milligrams of Lexapro every day. And so, finally, does this show.

“I don’t know who I would be without this job,” she said. “My kids come first, but I’m so lucky to have everything that I care about or attempt to do in this thing.”

Life’s Cornucopia

So how did America’s favorite extraterrestrial-loving little girl, a veteran of talk shows since childhood who memorably flashed David Letterman on his in 1995, end up with her own? And for that matter, why would she even want to? It’s not like she needs the money.

Well, why not?

Last spring, Elaine Bauer Brooks, executive vice president of development and multiplatform programming at CBS Television Distribution, in Los Angeles, approached her.“I thought, who would be warm and real and charming and have a unique sensibility?” Bauer Brooks said.

When they realized they shared a vision of a friendly, kooky, apolitical show, they moved forward. Preproduction began during lockdown, so they had to regroup. “She said, ‘I want our Plan B to be so good that we forget about our Plan A,’' Bauer Brooks recalled.

Because of the pandemic, there’s no in-studio audience. Instead, Plan B includes “VFF’s,” or virtual friends and family, an interactive virtual audience that allows Barrymore to engage with people as if they were with her in real life. Most guests are beamed in holographic-style, so she’s often talking to an empty chair. Other than a handful of crew members and producers, Barrymore is mainly all by herself in the giant studio.

The show is taped in New York, where it is broadcast live, five days a week. Barrymore wakes up at 4:30 a.m. and works out (“well, that’s wishy-washy”) before arriving at work at 6:45. She and her team write an opening monologue off the news, and then they’re on set by 8:15. The hourlong program starts at 9 a.m. in New York and is syndicated around the country. She spends the rest of the day preparing for the following day. She’s home by about 5:30, when she goes into “mom mode.”

Most of the guests are her adored celebrity pals, like Cameron (Diaz) and Charlize (Theron) and Reese (Witherspoon) and Gwyneth (Paltrow), who was given the task of coming up with a “Drewphemism” for words you can’t always comfortably say on morning network TV like “butt” or “something beginning with v that ends in ‘ina,’” as Barrymore put it.

“Lady bits?” Paltrow offered. “Life’s cornucopia?”

“I mean, it is,” Barrymore said, and they chortled.

The show features civilians, too, like a relationship expert to help people navigate divorce and a financial guru to help talk to kids about money. (Big Bird joined her in mid-November.)

And then there was Jonah Larson, a 12-year-old crocheting prodigy who tried to teach her the craft. Barrymore bumbled through the segment, constantly losing the ends of the yarn.

It was goofy. It was wacky. And it was kind of deliberate.

“I wanted to do the show like a variety comedy,” she said. “I gravitate toward a Julia Child or a Lucille Ball rather than trying to do it perfect. Everything’s going to fall on the floor and be kind of ridiculous.”

‘Exhausting and Fascinating’

It’s easy to poke fun at the over-the-top, Valley Girl-ness of it all, as Chloe Fineman did in an “Saturday Night Live” parody. Barrymore took it good-naturedly, posting on Instagram that she has “loved SNL for as long as i know” — indeed, she has hosted it half a dozen times — and to also have the @thedrewbarrymoreshow brought to the party is so fun.”

She later invited Fineman onto her show, where a mutual admiration session ensued.

“I’m really nervous to meet you. I’m so excited! I’m your biggest fan,” gushed Barrymore, whose mixed-breed rescue puppy, Douglas, had run out to greet Fineman.

“I’m your biggest fan. You’re going to make me cry,” Fineman said.

These are the sorts of conversations for which TDBS has received criticism. Daniel D’Addario wrote in Variety that Barrymore appears to reveal a lot but that she’s very much controlling the narrative; the show, he wrote, too often “defaults to the flat, broad approach of a celebrity who has fought hard, after a childhood exposed to the media’s glare, to keep some part of herself from the public.” Jezebel, which devotes a weekly column to the show, called it an “emotional roller coaster.” (And let’s not look too closely at the ratings.)

But considering the emotional roller coaster of 2020, it may be just what we need as 2021 dawns. It’s fun, if occasionally cringe-inducing, to watch Barrymore try so hard to have fun.

Because let’s be clear: Trying to have fun is work. Barrymore, as an executive producer, weighs in on everything, down to her chic schoolmarm costumes. “I love dressing up for work,” she said.

There are few child stars who go on to such sustained success. Of course, there are few with such a storied name (her grandfather John, great-uncle Lionel and great-aunt Ethel were all stars in their day).

She was only 19 when she helped found her production company, Flower Films, which has produced, among many others, “Charlie’s Angels,” “50 First Dates,” “Never Been Kissed” and “Whip It!,” which she directed and starred in. Most recently, she was a producer and star of the Netflix original series “Santa Clarita Diet.” This on top of Barrymore Brands, whose lifestyle brand, Flower by Drew, includes beauty products, a home line, hair tools and eyewear.

Chris Miller, 51, president of Flower Films, recalled being in huge marketing meetings at Sony for “Charlie’s Angels” back in the late 1990s. “Drew was in her mid-20s at the time and just had such conviction for how those movies should be marketed and sold,” he said. “She knew and understood every detail about the product because she was involved in every aspect of its creation.”

Years later, he said, “she’d be pitching a new lipstick and talking about how she had challenged the engineers to make the cap in a certain way that would not only feel good in your hand but would stay on during a 6-foot drop test.”

Miller has been with her for more than 20 years, as have most of the people in her immediate orbit.

“I’m very grounded in my life. All of my friends are 20 years, some 25 or 30,” she said. “My friends are my first family.”

She is trying to make sure her daughters have a more stable home life than she did. As Barrymore scholars know, she won emancipation from her parents at 14, not long after she went into rehab for drug addiction. She had been institutionalized for a year and a half, which she has since said she needed. Her father, John Drew Barrymore, died in 2004 after a life of substance abuse issues, but her daughters have met her mother, Ildiko Jaid Barrymore, a few times. “We just gauge it year by year,” she said.

She and Kopelman co-parent amicably, Barrymore said. But the divorce is still pretty raw, and she’s still single. As for dating, well, there’s this pandemic. And men never ask her out. “I tried a dating app once, and I just got blown off a lot,” she said. “I’d match with people, and they never followed through.”

She’d like to go on a blind date, though maybe not 50 of them. She’s trying to get to a place where she finds dating “delightful” again. “I just felt so heavy for so long that even the idea of lightening up about the whole thing would be such tremendous growth for me.”

But for the most part, she’s doing just fine on her own.

“I’ve never known this level of contentment,” Barrymore said. “This is new territory for me, and I just don’t want to screw it up.”

Oh, the stains. The staaaains! It’s the stains that truly obsess Drew Barrymore. “I’m a stan for stains,” she said on a recent episode of “The Drew Barrymore Show,” her syndicated talk show that premiered nationally in mid-September.

Oh, the stains. The staaaains! It’s the stains that truly obsess Drew Barrymore. “I’m a stan for stains,” she said on a recent episode of “The Drew Barrymore Show,” her syndicated talk show that premiered nationally in mid-September. Not that she knew what a “stan”— a portmanteau of “stalker” and “fan” — actually was, which explains why she pronounced it “stand.” Whatever. Barrymore, 45, was wearing a white lab coat over an olive green shirt, a pussy bow peeking out. Boldly labeled bottles — Laundry Detergent, Club Soda, Hand Soap, Rubbing Alcohol — were lined up on a table. As she told the audience, she’s a mother, and thus constantly rubbing, scrubbing and scouring. This is a source of enormous pleasure. “I love concocting the perfect solutions, products, combinations, treatments, methodologies,” she said with her signature lisp. She might as well have been Carol Channing in the Gen X classic “Free to Be You and Me.” But Barrymore wasn’t rhapsodizing about the need to share housework or the evils of advertising. Along with interior design and food, which the show also covers, stain removal is a lifelong passion. She asked viewers to send her their most aggressive soils, and she — actress, producer, director, author, Golden Globe winner, former emancipated minor, three-time ex-wife, two-time mother, beauty entrepreneur and now host — would help them fix it. Solving these sorts of human disasters is one of several bits on Barrymore’s sunny and frenetic show, “a jolt of optimism in a turbulent time,” as she said in a recent interview. It was the Monday after Joe Biden’s win was announced, and Barrymore was feeling a bit wistful. People had been partying in the streets all weekend, but she and her two daughters, Olive Barrymore Kopelman, 8, and Frankie Barrymore Kopelman, 6, were out of town and missed the festivities. “We felt like old fuddy-duddies,” she said. “We were all having FOMO. But I was also processing all weekend. I felt really internal and quiet, and I tried to think about how I could address it on the show.” This was more challenging than it may sound, because “TDBS,” as it’s called by fans and those who produce the show, is supposed to appeal to everyone. The show is a “safe space,” and as Barrymore said in her four-minute, 38-second opening monologue that morning, “I didn’t want to gloat because I know there are people out there who are hurting.” She teared up, as she does often. Like when her ex-husband Tom Green, whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to in about 15 years, came on the show and they reminisced. Or when a psychic medium told Barrymore that Will Kopelman, to whom she was married until 2016, had relatives on the Other Side who loved her and considered her a member of the family. Barrymore, a “little bit of a skeptic who also believes in everything,” bawled. (Kopelman later told Page Six that one of the alleged spirits was alive and well in Boston.) She Shares, and She Cares Barrymore, famously, is not only a crier but also a sharer, even before the sharing economy picked up online. She has always been quick to confess her fears, her insecurities; she unspools ribbons of words at record speed. In a recent Instagram post, she told her 13.6 million followers that she’s been eating her stress lately and needed a “brassiere thing” to fit into her pants. “For anyone who has to put an extender on your pants, well, just know — I feel ya,” she said. Candor has long come naturally to Barrymore. A native Angeleno, she moved to New York six years ago with Kopelman, an art adviser. They had married in 2012 in a “very Jewish” ceremony; their children are being raised Jewish, although Barrymore didn’t officially convert. But she celebrates all the holidays, which makes her … Drewish? Moving to New York was jarring. East Coast winters felt brutal. And then, in 2016, just when she was kind of getting used to it, she and Kopelman divorced. “Nothing I’ve ever been through compared to this divorce,” she said. “This was the first big thing that I went through that was involving a few people I care about far more than myself. I was depressed for, like, five years. I just wasn’t coping with it very well.” Time helped. So does 20 milligrams of Lexapro every day. And so, finally, does this show. “I don’t know who I would be without this job,” she said. “My kids come first, but I’m so lucky to have everything that I care about or attempt to do in this thing.” Life’s Cornucopia So how did America’s favorite extraterrestrial-loving little girl, a veteran of talk shows since childhood who memorably flashed David Letterman on his in 1995, end up with her own? And for that matter, why would she even want to? It’s not like she needs the money. Well, why not? Last spring, Elaine Bauer Brooks, executive vice president of development and multiplatform programming at CBS Television Distribution, in Los Angeles, approached her.“I thought, who would be warm and real and charming and have a unique sensibility?” Bauer Brooks said. When they realized they shared a vision of a friendly, kooky, apolitical show, they moved forward. Preproduction began during lockdown, so they had to regroup. “She said, ‘I want our Plan B to be so good that we forget about our Plan A,’' Bauer Brooks recalled. Because of the pandemic, there’s no in-studio audience. Instead, Plan B includes “VFF’s,” or virtual friends and family, an interactive virtual audience that allows Barrymore to engage with people as if they were with her in real life. Most guests are beamed in holographic-style, so she’s often talking to an empty chair. Other than a handful of crew members and producers, Barrymore is mainly all by herself in the giant studio. The show is taped in New York, where it is broadcast live, five days a week. Barrymore wakes up at 4:30 a.m. and works out (“well, that’s wishy-washy”) before arriving at work at 6:45. She and her team write an opening monologue off the news, and then they’re on set by 8:15. The hourlong program starts at 9 a.m. in New York and is syndicated around the country. She spends the rest of the day preparing for the following day. She’s home by about 5:30, when she goes into “mom mode.” Most of the guests are her adored celebrity pals, like Cameron (Diaz) and Charlize (Theron) and Reese (Witherspoon) and Gwyneth (Paltrow), who was given the task of coming up with a “Drewphemism” for words you can’t always comfortably say on morning network TV like “butt” or “something beginning with v that ends in ‘ina,’” as Barrymore put it. “Lady bits?” Paltrow offered. “Life’s cornucopia?” “I mean, it is,” Barrymore said, and they chortled. The show features civilians, too, like a relationship expert to help people navigate divorce and a financial guru to help talk to kids about money. (Big Bird joined her in mid-November.) And then there was Jonah Larson, a 12-year-old crocheting prodigy who tried to teach her the craft. Barrymore bumbled through the segment, constantly losing the ends of the yarn. It was goofy. It was wacky. And it was kind of deliberate. “I wanted to do the show like a variety comedy,” she said. “I gravitate toward a Julia Child or a Lucille Ball rather than trying to do it perfect. Everything’s going to fall on the floor and be kind of ridiculous.” ‘Exhausting and Fascinating’ It’s easy to poke fun at the over-the-top, Valley Girl-ness of it all, as Chloe Fineman did in an “Saturday Night Live” parody. Barrymore took it good-naturedly, posting on Instagram that she has “loved SNL for as long as i know” — indeed, she has hosted it half a dozen times — and to also have the @thedrewbarrymoreshow brought to the party is so fun.” She later invited Fineman onto her show, where a mutual admiration session ensued. “I’m really nervous to meet you. I’m so excited! I’m your biggest fan,” gushed Barrymore, whose mixed-breed rescue puppy, Douglas, had run out to greet Fineman. “I’m your biggest fan. You’re going to make me cry,” Fineman said. These are the sorts of conversations for which TDBS has received criticism. Daniel D’Addario wrote in Variety that Barrymore appears to reveal a lot but that she’s very much controlling the narrative; the show, he wrote, too often “defaults to the flat, broad approach of a celebrity who has fought hard, after a childhood exposed to the media’s glare, to keep some part of herself from the public.” Jezebel, which devotes a weekly column to the show, called it an “emotional roller coaster.” (And let’s not look too closely at the ratings.) But considering the emotional roller coaster of 2020, it may be just what we need as 2021 dawns. It’s fun, if occasionally cringe-inducing, to watch Barrymore try so hard to have fun. Because let’s be clear: Trying to have fun is work. Barrymore, as an executive producer, weighs in on everything, down to her chic schoolmarm costumes. “I love dressing up for work,” she said. There are few child stars who go on to such sustained success. Of course, there are few with such a storied name (her grandfather John, great-uncle Lionel and great-aunt Ethel were all stars in their day). She was only 19 when she helped found her production company, Flower Films, which has produced, among many others, “Charlie’s Angels,” “50 First Dates,” “Never Been Kissed” and “Whip It!,” which she directed and starred in. Most recently, she was a producer and star of the Netflix original series “Santa Clarita Diet.” This on top of Barrymore Brands, whose lifestyle brand, Flower by Drew, includes beauty products, a home line, hair tools and eyewear. Chris Miller, 51, president of Flower Films, recalled being in huge marketing meetings at Sony for “Charlie’s Angels” back in the late 1990s. “Drew was in her mid-20s at the time and just had such conviction for how those movies should be marketed and sold,” he said. “She knew and understood every detail about the product because she was involved in every aspect of its creation.” Years later, he said, “she’d be pitching a new lipstick and talking about how she had challenged the engineers to make the cap in a certain way that would not only feel good in your hand but would stay on during a 6-foot drop test.” Miller has been with her for more than 20 years, as have most of the people in her immediate orbit. “I’m very grounded in my life. All of my friends are 20 years, some 25 or 30,” she said. “My friends are my first family.” She is trying to make sure her daughters have a more stable home life than she did. As Barrymore scholars know, she won emancipation from her parents at 14, not long after she went into rehab for drug addiction. She had been institutionalized for a year and a half, which she has since said she needed. Her father, John Drew Barrymore, died in 2004 after a life of substance abuse issues, but her daughters have met her mother, Ildiko Jaid Barrymore, a few times. “We just gauge it year by year,” she said. She and Kopelman co-parent amicably, Barrymore said. But the divorce is still pretty raw, and she’s still single. As for dating, well, there’s this pandemic. And men never ask her out. “I tried a dating app once, and I just got blown off a lot,” she said. “I’d match with people, and they never followed through.” She’d like to go on a blind date, though maybe not 50 of them. She’s trying to get to a place where she finds dating “delightful” again. “I just felt so heavy for so long that even the idea of lightening up about the whole thing would be such tremendous growth for me.” But for the most part, she’s doing just fine on her own. “I’ve never known this level of contentment,” Barrymore said. “This is new territory for me, and I just don’t want to screw it up.”

Drew Barrymore is keeping it clean

Hollywood still doesn’t get it. Latinos are not a monolith. The context, details and nuances that go into telling the story of a family in Mexico City won’t be the same for the story of a family in Los Angeles, which would in turn differ for one in Miami.

20 essential Latino films since 2000

The Golden Globes on Monday postponed its 2021 ceremony for film and television, after a two-month delay to the Oscars, in Hollywood's latest awards calendar shuffle caused by the coronavirus epidemic.

Golden Globes follow Oscars with coronavirus delays to 2021 award shows

South Korean picture book artist Baek Heena was announced as the 2020 winner of the prestigious Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award (ALMA) on Tuesday (March 31).

South Korean picture book artist Baek Heena wins top children and young adult literature award

Environmental activists performed a flashmob on Saturday (February 29) at Berlin's International Film Festival to demand greater climate protection.

Activists occupy Berlinale red carpet to demand climate action

No fuss, just films seems to be the watchword as the Berlinale is set to open with low-key celebrations for its 70th anniversary edition on Thursday (February 20).

Berlinale at 70: What to expect from Berlin's Film Festival

After the BAFTA ceremony, winners and nominees of Britain's biggest film night headed to the after-party at Grosvenor House Hotel on Sunday (February 2).

BAFTA winners arrive at after party

Black was the colour of choice for many stars at this year's BAFTA Film Awards, held at London's Royal Albert Hall on Sunday (February 2).

Black, pink and a bit of sparkle on BAFTA red carpet

Scientists James Peebles, Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz won the 2019 Nobel Prize for Physics for ground-breaking work in astronomy, the award-giving body said on Tuesday.

Peebles was awarded half the prize while Mayor and Queloz shared the other half.

<div class="ui-state-default" contenteditable="false">
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BREAKING NEWS: 
The 2019 <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/NobelPrize?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#NobelPrize</a> in Physics has been awarded with one half to James Peebles “for theoretical discoveries in physical cosmology” and the other half jointly to Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz “for the discovery of an exoplanet orbiting a solar-type star.” <a href="https://t.co/BwwMTwtRFv">pic.twitter.com/BwwMTwtRFv</a>
— The Nobel Prize (@NobelPrize) <a href="https://twitter.com/NobelPrize/status/1181507664582467585?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">October 8, 2019</a></blockquote>
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"This year's Laureates have transformed our ideas about the cosmos," the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences said on awarding the 9 million Swedish crown ($910,000) prize.

"While James Peebles' theoretical discoveries contributed to our understanding of how the universe evolved after the Big Bang, Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz explored our cosmic neighbourhoods on the hunt for unknown planets. Their discoveries have forever changed our conceptions of the world."

Scientists James Peebles, Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz won the 2019 Nobel Prize for Physics for ground-breaking work in astronomy, the award-giving body said on Tuesday.

Scientists James Peebles, Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz won the 2019 Nobel Prize for Physics for ground-breaking work in astronomy, the award-giving body said on Tuesday. Peebles was awarded half the prize while Mayor and Queloz shared the other half. BREAKING NEWS: The 2019 #NobelPrize in Physics has been awarded with one half to James Peebles “for theoretical discoveries in physical cosmology” and the other half jointly to Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz “for the discovery of an exoplanet orbiting a solar-type star.” pic.twitter.com/BwwMTwtRFv — The Nobel Prize (@NobelPrize) October 8, 2019 × "This year's Laureates have transformed our ideas about the cosmos," the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences said on awarding the 9 million Swedish crown ($910,000) prize. "While James Peebles' theoretical discoveries contributed to our understanding of how the universe evolved after the Big Bang, Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz explored our cosmic neighbourhoods on the hunt for unknown planets. Their discoveries have forever changed our conceptions of the world."

Peebles, Mayor and Queloz win 2019 Nobel Prize for physics

`Game of Thrones` actor Sophie Turner congratulated Jodie Comer for winning Bafta for best actress for her role in `Killing Eve`.

Sophie took to her Twitter handle to wish Jodie. "YES jodiecomer YOU COMPLETELY DESERVE THIS," she tweeted.

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YES <a href="https://twitter.com/jodiecomer?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@jodiecomer</a> YOU COMPLETELY DESERVE THIS <a href="https://t.co/7k9betawJg">https://t.co/7k9betawJg</a>
— Sophie Turner (@SophieT) <a href="https://twitter.com/SophieT/status/1127695545697546240?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">May 12, 2019</a></blockquote>
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According to Variety, BBC America drama `Killing Eve` was the biggest winner at Bafta awards.

The hit show took two other trophies, for best drama series and for supporting actress.

`Killing Eve` and `A Very English Scandal` had the most nominations with 14 and 12, respectively, across both TV and TV Craft Awards.

Earlier, `Killing Eve` was commissioned out of the US by BBC America.

However, the American drama was given a special exemption to qualify across all major categories in the Bafta awards.

After seven nominations, Benedict Cumberbatch claimed his first Bafta for best leading actor in the male category.

The night was hosted by five-time Bafta winner Graham Norton.

Starting from 2005, it was Norton`s 11th time hosting at Bafta awards.

Sophie Turner recently tied the knot with Joe Jonas at Las Vegas.&nbsp; 
&nbsp;

`Game of Thrones` actor Sophie Turner congratulated Jodie Comer for winning Bafta for best actress for her role in `Killing Eve`. Sophie took to her Twitter handle to wish Jodie.

`Game of Thrones` actor Sophie Turner congratulated Jodie Comer for winning Bafta for best actress for her role in `Killing Eve`. Sophie took to her Twitter handle to wish Jodie. "YES jodiecomer YOU COMPLETELY DESERVE THIS," she tweeted. YES @jodiecomer YOU COMPLETELY DESERVE THIS https://t.co/7k9betawJg — Sophie Turner (@SophieT) May 12, 2019 × According to Variety, BBC America drama `Killing Eve` was the biggest winner at Bafta awards. The hit show took two other trophies, for best drama series and for supporting actress. `Killing Eve` and `A Very English Scandal` had the most nominations with 14 and 12, respectively, across both TV and TV Craft Awards. Earlier, `Killing Eve` was commissioned out of the US by BBC America. However, the American drama was given a special exemption to qualify across all major categories in the Bafta awards. After seven nominations, Benedict Cumberbatch claimed his first Bafta for best leading actor in the male category. The night was hosted by five-time Bafta winner Graham Norton. Starting from 2005, it was Norton`s 11th time hosting at Bafta awards. Sophie Turner recently tied the knot with Joe Jonas at Las Vegas.

Sophie Turner congratulates Jodie Comer for winning Bafta

As awards race heats up, molten metal is forged into BAFTA statues

Asserting that no sanyasi (seer) has been awarded Bharat Ratna since independence, Yog Guru Ramdev on Sunday demanded that seers in the country should also be conferred with the highest civilian honour for their contributions.

“I respect all the people who were given Bharat Ratna. Whoever contributes in the developmental works, they should be given Bharat Ratna. If it can be given to players and artistes then why not to a Sanyasi? Is the contribution of Maharishi Dayananda and Swami Vivekananda less than any politician or artiste? Mother Teresa can get it because she was a Christian but no seers because they are Hindus. Is being Hindu a crime in this country?”

Claiming that not even one seer has been awarded the Bharat Ratna since its beginning, he further said, “It is unfortunate that in the last 70 years, not even one sanyasi has been awarded Bharat Ratna, be it Maharishi Dayananda Saraswati or Swami Vivekananda, Shivakumara Swami Ji. All these saints who have contributed so much must also be conferred with the Bharat Ratna. Many seers have given education to crores of children. So, Hindu sanyasis who have contributed should also get the Bharat Ratna".

The Bharat Ratna is the highest civilian award accorded in India.

This year, former President Pranab Mukherjee, late legendary singer Bhupen Hazarika and late social activist Nanaji Deshmukh were the recipients of the coveted honour.

A number of politicians from Karnataka, including former chief minister Siddaramaiah and deputy chief minister G Parameshwara, had also raised demand to confer Bharat Ratna for late Siddaganga Mutt seer Shivakumara Swami.&nbsp;

Asserting that no sanyasi (seer) has been awarded Bharat Ratna since independence, Yog Guru Ramdev on Sunday demanded that seers in the country should also be conferred with the highest civilian honour for their contributions.

Asserting that no sanyasi (seer) has been awarded Bharat Ratna since independence, Yog Guru Ramdev on Sunday demanded that seers in the country should also be conferred with the highest civilian honour for their contributions. “I respect all the people who were given Bharat Ratna. Whoever contributes in the developmental works, they should be given Bharat Ratna. If it can be given to players and artistes then why not to a Sanyasi? Is the contribution of Maharishi Dayananda and Swami Vivekananda less than any politician or artiste? Mother Teresa can get it because she was a Christian but no seers because they are Hindus. Is being Hindu a crime in this country?” Claiming that not even one seer has been awarded the Bharat Ratna since its beginning, he further said, “It is unfortunate that in the last 70 years, not even one sanyasi has been awarded Bharat Ratna, be it Maharishi Dayananda Saraswati or Swami Vivekananda, Shivakumara Swami Ji. All these saints who have contributed so much must also be conferred with the Bharat Ratna. Many seers have given education to crores of children. So, Hindu sanyasis who have contributed should also get the Bharat Ratna". The Bharat Ratna is the highest civilian award accorded in India. This year, former President Pranab Mukherjee, late legendary singer Bhupen Hazarika and late social activist Nanaji Deshmukh were the recipients of the coveted honour. A number of politicians from Karnataka, including former chief minister Siddaramaiah and deputy chief minister G Parameshwara, had also raised demand to confer Bharat Ratna for late Siddaganga Mutt seer Shivakumara Swami.

Unfortunate that no sanyasi awarded Bharat Ratna in 70 years: Ramdev

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