Mikey Madison doesn’t seem like she would be the bad guy. Within the first 30 seconds of our Zoom call, she’s picking up her laptop and carrying it across the room, angling her screen downward to show off her new puppy dozing on the floor of his playpen.
“Can you see him? His name is Jam, because I have a cat named Biscuit.”
Like I said—not very villainous. Madison, off camera, is the type to set up pee pads for her puppy and schedule his training classes. The 25-year-old bakes banana muffins and is forever updating a running Google Doc of actors and directors she hopes to work with one day. Her warm personality and wide smile could make her a Disney Channel darling. But that’s not her speed.
Instead, time and time again, Madison takes on roles as a maniac, a psychopath, a murderer. Most recently she played a luckless stripper from New York who becomes entangled with the son of a Russian oligarch in the subversive not-quite-rom-com Anora, which was a sensation at Cannes last year. That followed roles as a fanatical Manson-cult follower in Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood and as the Ghostface killer in Scream.
“I don't know how I got into a pocket of playing antagonistic characters, but I did. It’s fun,” Madison says. “I’m a good girl, really, and I’ve always been a good girl. I’ve never broken the rules or done bad things, and it’s so interesting to play characters who have, because I feel like I’ve been able to experience it with this safety net underneath me.”
Madison insists that she’s “risk averse,” and I’m sure that’s true when it comes to things like going bungee jumping or driving over the speed limit. But when it comes to her career, she’s been fearless about making bold choices from the start.
The first big decision was to pick acting over horses. “My grandmother was a horseback rider, and my mom was a horseback rider, and so, naturally, I was riding horses before I could walk—or at least sitting on a horse,” she says. As a teen, she was homeschooled so she could spend more time with the horses. The barn was a second home. She could have literally ridden off into the sunset that way. But there was a tickle in her subconscious—a “yearning” for human connection pushing her to try something different.
“I just had a pull towards wanting some deeper connection with other people or wanting to experience something more emotional than what I was doing,” she says. “To me, that decision was simultaneously easy but also painful. I felt that if I started acting, then I’d have to commit myself 100 per cent to it, and I couldn’t do that if I was still committed to horseback riding, which is very time-consuming. And so I let that part of my life go for the time being.”
Both of Madison’s parents are psychologists; she had no connections in the film industry, no friends who had gone into acting. All she had was a gut feeling and a love of classics that she’d inherited from her dad—like Bond films, Marilyn Monroe’s filmography, and, of course, a healthy portion of Quentin Tarantino. Her leap of faith paid off spectacularly. At just 19, Madison was cast in Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood.
“When I finally gave myself permission to fail or to embarrass myself or to not be perfect is when things started happening for me,” she says. Only after she allowed herself to “make a fool” of herself in auditions did the roles she truly wanted start coming in.
Director Sean Baker saw her in Scream on its opening weekend in 2022, and a few days later he called Madison to meet for coffee. He had a proposition: If she agreed to star in Anora, he would start writing the script for her then and there.
It was the first time she hadn’t had to audition and only the second time she’d accepted a part without laying eyes on the script. But there was that gut feeling again. It was a risk, but it barely seemed like one to Madison. Her collaboration with Baker felt “written in the stars.” She worked with Baker to mould the character, did her own stunts on set, took pole-dancing classes and Russian lessons, and visited strip clubs.
All that work paid off in a big way when Anora won the Palme d’Or at Cannes in May. She and Baker were rewarded for the heart, the soul, and the energy that went into making the film. But there was something else that the experience gave Madison. It was the metamorphosis of the actress herself.
“Right before I went into shooting Anora, I grew confidence—not as an actor but as a person,” she says. She’s always been an introvert. As a kid she sometimes felt so shy she had trouble looking people in the eye. Even her family was surprised that she would want to shift into such a public-facing industry, one where, even when you’re loud and brash and confident, it isn’t easy to be heard—much less when you’re a woman, much less when you’re young.
“I think that the kind of actor I am now, because of the experiences I’ve had, I’m confident in my voice and that what I have to say is important,” she says. “Even if someone doesn’t want to listen, I’m still going to share it and tell them. Because as an actor, I’m not a puppet. It’s really important that my voice is heard, because it’s a collaboration, you know?”
Collaboration. It’s the perfect word for her work with Baker. “It’s not a relationship I’ve ever had before,” she says of working with the director. “I think we were just really in tune with each other in terms of the comedy and where the character was going.… I think it changed the relationship, going into the film where we were willing to just try things and take risks.”
It’s something that every adrenaline junkie knows and many of the greatest actors have learned: Once you start taking those risks, it’s pretty damn hard to stop, to go back to a place where things feel easy and familiar. The goal now is different from when Madison started: “I constantly want to be in a place where I never get comfortable. I always want to be pushing myself to learn and become a better actor every day. I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable enough to be like, Oh, I’ve made it.”
At home with Jam and Biscuit, Madison may still be risk averse. But in her work, she knows that risks aren’t just part of the process—they’re the whole point.
Photographed by Mark Seliger
Styled by Chloe Hartstein
Hair by Kevin Ryan using GO247 & UNITE
Grooming by Jessica Ortiz for La Mer
Makeup by Rebecca Restrepo using Lisa Eldridge Beauty
Production by Madi Overstreet and Ruth Levy
Set Design by Michael Sturgeon
Nails by Eri Handa using Dior
Tailoring by Yana Galbshtein
Design Director Rockwell Harwood
Contributing Visual Director James Morris
Executive Producer, Video Dorenna Newton
Executive Director, Entertainment Randi Peck
Originally published on Esquire US
Yep, the second weekend of January is here, and while we’re already a few days into the New Year, there’s still plenty of time to embrace fresh experiences and make the most of your weekend. Whether you're seeking cultural inspiration, good vibeeey tunes, or a chance to relax, this weekend listicle offers the perfect opportunity to kickstart 2025 on a high note.
It’s not everyday that you walk into a coffee shop in Geylang and experience DJs blasting out chill, laidback tunes—that’s exactly what you’ll get when you head down to the long-standing Keng Wah Seung Cafe to catch @kopicatsss. This DJ collective is back for the fifth volume of what they do best—laying down sick beats at the unlikeliest of locations, from iconic institutions of Singaporean cuisine to niche bookstores. This time they’ll be spinning at Keng Wah Seung Cafe, a renowned Hainanese nestled in the midst of Geylang that’s been around since the 50s. Catch the kopicats, joined by guest star DJ/barista @a_fiq, as they cook up the sickest tunes to go alongside your kopi and wanton mee.
When: 11 January, from 2pm until 6pm
Where: 783 Geylang Rd, Singapore 389672
Sure, you could probably just go outside and see the vibrant streets of our city with your own eyes, but why do that when you can view the very same sights as pictured through the lens of celebrated visual archivist Aik Beng Chia instead, who’s been capturing the lifeblood of Singapore on his camera for 15 years. As part of Singapore Art Week 2025, his newest exhibition SingKaPor REMIXED presents a series of large-scale photographic collages that perfectly encapsulates the essence of Singapore’s urban landscapes and vibrant communities. Chia’s collages capture the intimacy and charm of everyday moments, with these new works expanding upon his previously more individual snapshots to offer a panoramic view of life in Singapore.
When: Till 26 January
Where: 5 Lock Rd, #01-06 Gillman Barracks
There's a fresh face in the local art scene, and it's making quite the statement. Meet Tokonoma—the brainchild of gallerist and art collector Ken Tan and art director Joash Thum—a gallery that thrives on defying labels. Think of it as the cool rebel of the art world where rules don't apply. Their debut exhibition, DNA (Design Nor Art), is a curated collection of eight intriguing objects that live somewhere in the grey zone between art and design. Highlights include Duchamp's iconic Bottle Rack (yes, the one that transformed a drying rack into art history) and a pair of Olivier People sunglasses made exclusively for Andy Warhol—because why not add a touch of Warholian flair to the mix?
When: 10 January-28 February
Where: Tokonoma, #03-10, 16 Shaw Road
By appointment only
Celebrate the Year of the Snake with Martell’s tribute to Chinese culture at The Golden Age Journey: L’Or de Jean Martell—Assemblage du Serpent pop-up. Limited to just 500 individually numbered bottles, is presented in a beautifully reimagined Baccarat crystal decanter that captures the mysticism of the serpent. Visitors can immerse themselves across five elemental zones inspired by Chinese geomancy—Water, Earth, Fire, Wood, and Gold, while uncovering the artistry behind this exclusive blend of over 700 eaux-de-vie.
Highlights include a gold-scaled photo wall, a heritage walkway showcasing Martell’s 300-year legacy, an Infinity Photo Wall symbolising water’s life-giving essence, and olfactory pods offering a sensory journey into its rich flavours.
When: 10–12 January
Where: 72-13 Mohamed Sultan Road, Singapore
Looking for your next cultural fix without breaking the bank? Head to the Centre for Asian Languages & Arts (CAL) at the National Library Building, where a treasure trove of arts and culture content spanning books, music scores, and play scripts reside. But here's the kicker: their massive collection of 30,000 film titles, ranging from dance performances to theatre productions and operas, are all available in crystal-clear quality up to 4K resolution. There's even a cosy viewing room on level 8, complete with a surround sound system that'll have you feeling like you're front row at the theatre.
When: Everyday, 10am - 9pm
Where: 100 Victoria Street, National Library Board, Singapore 188064
Make reservations here
When was the last time you've visited the Science Centre Singapore? I'd wager not very recently. But you now have an excuse to do just that. Space Explorers: THE INFINITE takes you aboard the International Space Station alongside NASA astronauts through stunning 360-degree footage captured in space. For an hour, you'll witness the first-ever spacewalk in virtual reality, explore a life-sized 3D model of the ISS, and watch the historic Artemis rocket launch. You'll even be able to see our earth from a perspective few humans ever have. Your ticket also includes access to Science Centre Singapore, making it a worthy outing to spend an entire day on.
When: Now till 24 March 2025
Where: Science Centre Singapore, 15 Science Centre Road, 609081
Make reservations here
Gladiator 2 is a cinematic spectacle that demands to be experienced in theatres, bringing together the genius of Ridley Scott with the powerhouse talents of Paul Mescal and Denzel Washington. Mescal steps into the spotlight as a compelling new hero, delivering a raw and emotionally charged performance, while Washington adds his legendary gravitas to a key role that elevates the story. With breathtaking visuals, and epic battles, it's the kind of cinematic experience that delivers the grandeur of ancient Rome. Here's our full review of it.
Where: All theatres near you
Every weekend—yes, every weekend—there's a new vintage marketplace spot open for you to find your next treasure. Whether its a cute digicam from @digi_cambam and @digicamsg, a visit to a makeshift tent for live tarot readings by @snowielogy, or a curated selection of vintage clothes, hand sculptured accessories and blind bags from @whowantsaynow, @dillydallydally, @woofie.co, @weare_.sg, and @vroomn_vintage, as well as many other hidden gems. So grab your friends or family, and come along to discover what's waiting at Resurrack's Vintage Market.
When: Every Saturday and Sunday, 3pm - 9pm
Where: Resurrack Vintage Market, Bugis Street Art Lane
If you're looking for something thought-provoking this weekend, this might be it. The Substance by French filmmaker Coralie Fargeat offers a gripping dive into ambition, vulnerability and the social pressures shaping our lives. Starring Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, this isn't just entertainment; it's an intense, emotionally resonant experience that feels both personal and universal. Carolie's direction brings each character's journey to life with personal performances and stunning cinematography, making it hard to look away. Not to hype it up too much but just saying, this could be my favourite film all-year-long.
I won't spoil too much so I'll just leave you on a cliff-hanger. The Substance explores the choices we make, leaving viewers with plenty to reflect on, and probably grossed out too—in a good way, of course. So don't miss it—this film will linger with you long after the credits roll (it's still lingering after watching it last week.)
Where: All theatres near you
Enter The World of Studio Ghibli where you can visit the worlds of your favourite films. At the museum, stream through 11 of their best films such as My Neighbour Totoro (1988), Kiki's Delivery Service (1989), Princess Mononoke (1997), Spirited Away (2001) and Howl's Moving Castle (2004), transporting visitors into iconic scenes of the movies. Take a peak at how the films were made with its 16 art installations showcasing Studio Ghibli's creative process. Oh and be sure not to miss the interactive exhibits and dedicated photo spots for cute pics.
(STUDIO GHIBLI)
When: Until 2 February 2025
Where: ArtScience Museum Singapore
Get your tickets here
The world’s largest light, sound and multimedia event is finally in Singapore. Expect a series of festive activities throughout its run, like “The Enchanted Maples” where visitors can enjoy glowing maple leaves and treats from the Sugar Shack as well as a winter wonderland named the “Walls of Lights” and more. illumi strongly prides in their commitment to sustainability through energy-efficient LED lighting and nighttime operations that conserve energy, so don't be worry bout 'saving electricity'.
When: Until 2 February 2025
Where: Bayfront Event Space, Singapore
Get your tickets here
“Cats, in particular, teach us to be ourselves, whatever the odds. A cat, except through force, will never do anything that goes against its nature. Nothing seduces it away from itself.“
—Alice Walker, We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For
"Cats in a Floating World" is a curated exhibition that explores cats in all their mysterious glory—from aloof apartment dwellers reflecting city lights in their eyes to playful calicos romping through traditional gardens. Drawing on Japan's rich artistic tradition where cats have long been revered as spiritual beings, fourteen artists reimagine these beloved creatures across various mediums and styles. Blurring the line between reality and dream, the exhibition delves into the cultural and emotional ties between humans and their feline counterparts.
When: Now till 29 December, 12pm - 8:30pm
Where: 45 Tras St, Singapore 078984
Who is Paddington Bear anyway?
Paddington Bear is short. This might not be news to you. You have probably read the books by Michael Bond, in which Peggy Fortnum’s illustrations depict the bear grazing people’s waistlines. Maybe you have seen the live-action film adaptations, in which our three-foot-six hero traverses London. Perhaps, at the behest of a younger relative, you recently paid a visit to The Paddington Bear Experience, an immersive adventure where you make marmalade for Paddington (polite as ever, he thanks you). But I am still surprised whenever I walk past Marcus Cornish’s bronze recreation of the character at Paddington Station and remember that this bear, who looms so large in our nation’s psyche, is so small in stature. So scruffy. A little scrawny.
This story starts at Paddington Station, too. Mr and Mrs Brown are collecting their daughter when they catch sight of a lone bear, sitting atop a suitcase. He’s wearing a wide-brimmed hat and there’s a label around his neck that reads: “Please look after this bear. Thank you”. The bear—he can talk, though this does not prompt more than mild surprise—charms the woman and has tea with the man. He’s just arrived from Peru, sent by his aunt. What’s his name? It’s unpronounceable, so the couple christen him after the station and ferry him home. The bear, articulate and accident-prone, becomes entwined with the family and the local community.
Another story is just as important. A BBC cameraman is shopping late on Christmas Eve, when he decides to take refuge from the snow in Selfridges. In the department store’s toy section, he sees a single teddy on a shelf, which he brings home to his wife. They name it—because all teddies need a name—after a station near their flat. Inspired by the bear’s sorry expression and memories of child evacuees during World War II, the man, who served in that war and has ambitions of becoming an author, begins writing. Ten days later, he sends a manuscript to his agent. Two years after that, A Bear Called Paddington is published. Michael Bond would write 15 books in the series throughout his life.
I remember my parents reading that first book to me and then, when I was old enough, reading the stories myself. My baby nephew sleeps with a Paddington toy. When my mother was a schoolgirl, she met Bond at a book fair, bought More About Paddington and discussed the bear’s adventures. She still has that signed copy. Most people in this country, I suspect, have a story about this bear, and when I tell mine to Karen Jankel, who is Bond’s daughter and the person responsible for running his literary estate, she has the understanding look of someone who has indeed heard these anecdotes before.
“We were a family of three, plus Paddington,” Jankel says. “So really, a family of four.” The first book was published two months after she was born in 1958 and the teddy bear — the one Bond bought for his wife for Christmas — was part of the family. He joined them on holidays. Places were laid for him at restaurant tables. I wonder if that presence ever became too much — I avoid the word overbearing — but Jankel says it was all “pretty straightforward”. She grew up an only child, so there were no squabbles over Paddington. After their divorce, her parents maintained “joint custody” of the teddy.
Jankel calls Paddington an “amalgam” of her father’s traits: the bear’s moral streak, kindness and love of food are all Bond. One difference Jankel picks out is crucial, both to understanding the bear and Bond’s writing: “Paddington takes everything very literally, whereas my father obviously had a wonderful sense of humour.”
As he says himself, “Things are always happening to me. I'm that kind of bear”
The Brown family—father Henry, mother Mary, children Judy and Jonathan—live at 32 Windsor Gardens, a fictional Notting Hill address that may now evoke empty, marble-lined Russian boltholes but, in the books, is a haven of cosy nooks and domestic charm (in real life, Windsor Gardens would lead you to an unremarkable block of flats off the Harrow Road). The Browns are unglamorously, pleasingly English: Henry is an insurance broker, Mary is kind, the children are sweet and sometimes sarcastic. What, exactly, does Paddington do all day? He attempts to help housekeeper Mrs Bird and tucks into elevenses with Hungarian immigrant and antiques dealer Mr Gruber. He finds endearing—and, if we are being honest, irritating—ways to cause trouble along the Portobello Road.
When writing the first book, Bond lived nearby, in a tiny flat on Arundel Gardens. It’s not hard to find other parallels. Jankel recalls the time her father found a note on his windscreen—it inspired a story in which the bear happens across a letter on his shopping basket and ends up in a scheme selling faulty vacuum cleaners. There’s also the family legend about Bond’s father—chronically useless at DIY—who once wallpapered over a door and got stuck in a room. Read More About Paddington if you want to know how that one ends.
What really works about Paddington is that he is weird. He is from Darkest Peru! (Not Africa, as Bond originally had it, until his agent informed him there were no bears on that continent.) He is addicted to marmalade! He wears a duffel coat! He does not, and this is unusual for a dramatic character, ever change. The world simply revolves around this steadfast bear, who is both old man and seven-year-old. As he tells Judy: “Things are always happening to me. I’m that sort of bear.”
In his final years, Bond wanted the bear close at all times. “He was so much a part of him,” Jankel says. “[Paddington] was like another person to him.” After the author’s death in 2017, the teddy lived with Bond’s first wife until she died. He now resides with Jankel.
It is fair to say that the films changed everything. These live-action adaptations, in which the CGI bear interacts with real-life city dwellers, proved irresistible. The 2014 film, simply titled Paddington, and its 2017 sequel Paddington 2, made over £350 million at the box office worldwide. And so Paddington reached a new kind of fame: higher-stakes and starrier. You could cite figures and awards to quantify the films’ success, but why not look to Paddington’s home town? In 2012, Jankel visited Peru for the first time and—bar a few toys at Lima airport—nobody had heard of Paddington. When she returned a couple of years later, after the first film had been released, it was “a totally different story”. Everyone knew about the bear: books lined the shops and duty-free presumably stocked up on plushies. “They had a statue,” she says. “In fact, I unveiled a statue.”
Until that point, Paddington’s journey from bear to brand had been significant and a little strange. It may surprise you to learn that the very first Paddington soft toy was given to Jeremy Clarkson. His mother Shirley designed it as a Christmas present for him and his sister Joanna. It was popular, so she made more. And then, when her company was granted the licence to sell them in the UK in 1972, she made even more. It was Shirley who gave Paddington his first pair of Dunlop wellies, so that the toy could stand upright. An American toy company soon started selling Paddingtons overseas.
In 1976, an animated BBC show arrived, scripted by Bond, directed by Ivor Wood and narrated by Michael Hordern. Paddington blunders his way through a world of paper cut-outs in four-minute sketches. It’s good. Another one came along in the late 1980s, produced by Hanna-Barbera. That one is very American: they even added a Yank cousin for Jonathan and Judy. He’s called David and is relentlessly optimistic. And there was another show, a co-production from France and Canada, in the late 1990s, in which the bear is plump, primary-coloured and disconcertingly resembles an admiral.
“It was my first acquaintance with a fictional character that I could read about rather than having it read for me,” says Hugh Bonneville, who plays Mr Brown in the films. “So I was very nervous and proprietorial about Paddington being ruined by ghastly people from Hollywood.” The first image of movie-star Paddington—a solitary figure loitering outside Buckingham Palace—did little to assuage such fears. The Daily Mail compared him to Russian meerkat Aleksandr Orlov, the mascot for insurance-comparison website ComparetheMarket.com. Under the hashtag #creepyPaddington, people Photoshopped the bear into increasingly alarming situations: Paddington haunts the corridors of the Overlook Hotel; Paddington watches on as Joffrey is poisoned; Paddington peeks through Janet Leigh’s shower curtain.
“The auspices were not good,” recalls Rosie Alison, a producer at Heyday Films who has worked across the series. “People just thought, ‘What is this weird-looking, dead-eyed bear?’ But we knew the film was better than that.”
The film was better than that. Perhaps not a surprise, given Heyday’s history: the British film studio had already turned JK Rowling’s Harry Potter series into one of the most successful movie franchises of all time. Alison, who first approached Bond in 2002, attributes much of its success to Paul King, the first film’s director and writer. King had come from the theatre and directed surreal television comedy The Mighty Boosh, which Alison’s daughter had loved. “It was clear that he could take this character and build a world that was a celebration of cinema, too.”
I was very nervous about Paddington being ruined by ghastly people from Hollywood
The universe of Paddington is familiar, nostalgic. In this London, everyone waves to one another. A band plays calypso music throughout the streets. The houses have a picture-book quality: the doors look like those you would open on an old-fashioned Advent calendar.“It’s quite distinct from anything else out there,” Alison says. “There is a handmade, imaginative playfulness that comes with it.” When I meet Alison at the offices of Framestore, the London-based animation studio behind the films, we leaf through some props: there’s a copy of “The Grrrdian” and a posh umbrella, the kind you might find at James Smith & Sons, which the inhabitants of Windsor Gardens gift Paddington.
And the films have jokes. King managed to translate Bond’s Fawlty Towers-esque humour—“my father loved funny road signs and would always jot them down,” Jankel notes—onto the big screen. “Dogs must be carried,” says the sign by the Underground escalators, and so Paddington picks up a Chihuahua and hops on.
The sequel, which King directed and co-wrote with Simon Farnaby, was even better. This time, Hugh Grant was the bad guy: a faded actor named Phoenix Buchanan who now appears in dog-food commercials. It might just be Grant’s career highlight. A show-stopping final scene, in which the newly imprisoned Buchanan sings Stephen Sondheim’s “Rain on the Roof” in front of a captive audience, is the rare post-credits sequence worth sticking around for. The film is rated 99 per cent on review-aggregator site Rotten Tomatoes, meaning that, for a moment in time that delighted and appalled those who care about review-aggregator sites, it surpassed Citizen Kane.
“We’ve been surprised by his cultural impact around the world,” Alison says. “It is that really simple thing about him: his values are honest, his goodness is unassailable. And in our cynical world, he’s an antidote.”
Bond approved of the adaptations, by the way, and was aware of how big the first film had made his creation, according to Jankel. He died on the final day of reshoots for the second movie, “knowing [Paddington] was in very safe hands”.
The third film, Paddington in Peru (in cinemas from 8 November), brings the bear home. Or at least, his other home. Life in London is changing: Jonathan and Judy are grown up; Mrs Bird has empty-nest syndrome; Paddington is thinking about family. So the Notting Hill crew make the pilgrimage to Peru, to visit Aunt Lucy (voiced by Imelda Staunton), but the Reverend Mother (played by Olivia Colman), who runs the Home for Retired Bears, informs them that Paddington’s beloved relative has gone missing. Where? Somewhere in the Amazon. You know! The biggest rainforest in the world.
So begins an adventure, which involves Antonio Banderas as a handsome steamboat captain, and revelations about Paddington’s past. The crew shot background footage in Colombia and Peru, but filming took place in UK studios, while a farm near Leavesden provided a convincing jungle backdrop. Also, a few changes to what has become a well-oiled machine: Emily Mortimer has replaced Sally Hawkins as Mrs Brown, while Mark Burton, Jon Foster and James Lamont are on screenplay duties. And there’s a new director: Dougal Wilson takes over for King, who was busy expanding the Dahl Cinematic Universe with Wonka.
“It’s an enormous mantle, and there’s so much anticipation and good feeling towards the films that I was very apprehensive about taking it on,” Wilson tells me. “But I couldn’t turn it down. I’ll just try my best. That’s probably what Paddington would do, too.”
This is Wilson’s first feature film, though he has worked in advertising for years and directed charming music videos for the likes of Coldplay and Basement Jaxx. He once animated a Shetland pony to moonwalk in an advert for a phone company. In the pages of his sketchbook for this film, some visual motifs: French painter Henri Rousseau’s post-impressionist masterpiece Tiger in a Tropical Storm; Werner Herzog’s Fitzcarraldo and Aguirre, the Wrath of God (“very appropriate for kids,” Wilson notes); Apocalypse Now. The 1949 British black comedy Kind Hearts and Coronets, starring Alec Guinness in multiple roles, provided context for Banderas’s storyline, which involves several of the character’s ancestors. Once again, Paddington is in safe and, more importantly, silly hands.
Wilson shows Alison and me what he calls a “crapomatic”, a storyboard for what a final sequence might look like (if you work in the industry, you may know this as an “animatic”). It’s to plan out a musical number in which Colman’s character prepares for Paddington’s visit. We watch a rough take on his laptop, in which Barbie choreographer Jennifer White stands in for Colman. She dances through a semi-complete set, while a recorded song performed by Colman plays (Wilson wrote that tune himself, with some help from The Divine Comedy’s Neil Hannon). Even in its unfinished form, it looks like good fun: The Sound of Music meets Jumanji meets an OK Go music video.
I ask Alison and Wilson—who, like everyone else I speak to for this article, talk about Paddington as though he were simply waiting in the next room—about their version of the character. What would and wouldn’t he do?
Wilson: “He would always see the best in people, remain positive in any situation and he would never hold a grudge against anyone.”
Alison, nodding: “He’d always be fair.”
Wilson, again: “He would be kind and polite. And he would always give someone the benefit of the doubt.”
Often, when we talk about Paddington, we say that he upholds very British values. Is that a fair comment?
Alison: “It’s how we like to think of ourselves, isn’t it? He represents tolerance and inclusiveness and compassion and kindness and generosity. That’s what we want to feel.”
A little while after #creepyPaddington, while casting for the first film, another hitch. Colin Firth had been announced as the voice of Paddington. “But then, when we started animating bear, it just didn’t mesh,” Alison says. “Colin, graciously, could see that as well.” Firth dropped out; auditions resumed. Actors came into Goldcrest, a London post-production studio, to try out the voice. Paddington was on the screen, so they could see “who would fit the costume”, as Alison puts it.
“I was even reluctant to audition at first,” Ben Whishaw tells me. The actor had never thought of playing Paddington; he was not familiar with either Bond’s creation or voicing an animated character. “But when Paddington arrives in London, everything is unfamiliar to him as well. I could draw on that feeling and go with that, but it still wasn’t easy.”
“His voice is very much my own voice,” he says. “And I think it’s true for most actors, myself included, that when playing characters we need to relate to them personally. That just so happened to be my voice.”
Whishaw has certainly thought a lot about Paddington since he won the part. “His positivity and kindness is so endearing, as well as enduring,” the actor says. “He will only look for the best in others—even those that people may tend to overlook, or not even consider in the first place. Paddington draws this affection and feeling out of those he meets, and that’s true for the readers and watchers, too.” When I ask if it’s ever challenging to bring life to a character as immutable as Paddington, Whishaw’s perceptive answer reveals something about his (very fruitful) process. “His core values and personality will always be consistent—but I guess that it’s also in his personality to be adaptable, especially with the situations he gets into and the unique characters he meets,” he says. “I just approach bringing Paddington to life as he would—with open arms.”
I learn that Whishaw’s audition prompted both gleeful clapping and sighs of relief at Goldcrest. Even if the actor “isn’t exactly sure” what works so well about his voice, those around him have a few ideas. “In some ways, he himself is all the qualities [Paddington] has,” says Mortimer, who also acted alongside Whishaw in Mary Poppins Returns. “I mean, he’s not chaotic at all and he doesn’t overfill the bath, but he’s got such soul and depth of feeling, but also a playful spirit and a twinkle in his eye.” Alison attributes it to his “naive youthfulness”, a distinct vibe from Hordern’s sonorous narration. A youthful Paddington, deeply felt.
I wonder if it is ever odd for Whishaw—one of our most idiosyncratic actors, and one unafraid to make bold career choices—to be so closely associated with this bear.
“A little strange, as I only voice Paddington,” he admits. “But I’ve had almost 10 years to get used to it.”
None of this would have been possible without getting the bear exactly right. At a workshop with animation director Pablo Grillo and VFX-production supervisor Alexis Wajsbrot, I learn that this was not simple. Wajsbrot says that Grillo is responsible for “bringing life to Paddington”, though I already suspected this when Grillo assured me at our cover shoot that Paddington would be “a little perplexed but excited” to find himself on the front of Esquire.
There were three “anchor points” while designing Paddington for the big screen, says Grillo. Firstly, Peggy Fortnum’s line drawings from Bond’s books. Then, actual animals. Paddington is a spectacled bear, so they looked at the “sweetest examples” of those cubs. And finally, comedians like Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, whose physical comedy was a reference point for Paddington’s movements.
It took about six months to find the right fit: simple, cute, expressive. Not too gnarly, thank you.
Filming a non-existent being is hard. “Physiologically, everyone is confused,” Grillo says. A short actor, Lauren Barrand, will rehearse with the actors so that they can get a grasp on general movements. Then, they will run through with an “eyeline stick” (which is what it sounds like: a stick), so that the actors know roughly where to look. There is also a Paddington lookalike made of beaver fur, which is called, rather horrifically, a “stuffie”. They use that to figure out lighting.
To work out how the bear might move on-screen, the team use real human beings: Javier Marzan, a theatre actor, provides the comedic movements. Whishaw will also act scenes out, and he brings in a “natural impulse as well as a physical response to an emotional situation”, says Grillo. They also use footage of Whishaw’s ADR (automated dialogue replacement) process to get a good lip-sync. The entire process requires around 120 animators.
After my workshop, I have a go at animating a bear myself with a very patient Framestore employee named Arslan, who tells me that the secret is to think English not American. Subtle movements. The bar is set low: let’s just try to make this thing nod. I have good intentions, and everything is set up for me to succeed, but my bear looks neither American nor English. He just spasms menacingly.
Easier and sweeter to take Bonneville’s view. When I ask him what it is like to act opposite a stick, or a stand-in, or nothing at all, he says: “For me, the bear is real, and I will not have anyone say anything otherwise.”
Ahead of Paddington in Peru, the producers wrote to the Home Office and asked whether it would be possible to obtain a replica passport for filming. The Home Office came up trumps. This bear has a blue passport. It is kept under lock and key, but I have inspected it and can confirm that the bear is a British citizen. Paddington, like all our monarchs since King George II, has two birthdays: 25 June and 25 December. The passport lists his summer birthday. Under “official observations”, it simply says “bear”.
Some comfort at last for Paddington, whose immigration status has become a knotty topic. When the sequel was released in 2017, a year after the UK voted to leave the European Union, King and Farnaby’s script stressed the value of outsiders. It was not a manifesto, but it tapped into a national mood (for 48 per cent of the nation, anyway). “It’s very important to us that there’s a light touch to Paddington, and that he doesn’t get preachy or political with a big P,” Alison says. “Other people embrace him for different slogans, but we try to keep him above the fray.” Sure enough, in 2022, as a response to the Government’s Rwandan asylum policy, civil servants affixed posters on noticeboards at the Home Office with a photograph of the bear, claiming he had taken a “clandestine irregular route” into the country.
Bond’s series, like the best children’s literature, always has an undercurrent of threat: nosy locals (Mr Curry, the Brown family’s nimbyist neighbour), petty criminals (a dodgy showman once tricked him into performing at a piano recital), and the more insidious feeling that Paddington, like many refugees before him, could be carted off at any point.
You find those anxieties in the movies. The film version of Mr Gruber (Jim Broadbent) is from Germany, not Hungary. “My body had travelled very fast,” he says, while discussing his escape via Kindertransport, “but my heart, she took a little longer to arrive.” Mr Curry (Peter Capaldi) refers to Paddington as “an undesirable”.
“My father always brought current-day situations into his writing, be it funny instances or the political situation,” says Jankel. “Of course, he was living very near where the books are set when he wrote the first one, which was close to the Portobello Road. That was the time of Windrush, so I think that he always had a great awareness of home and displacement.”
When Paddington leaves London in 1961’s Paddington Abroad, there is indeed a setback. In the third chapter, “Trouble at the Airport”, Paddington is whisked off to a side room after an officer believes he doesn’t have a passport. The Browns, too, are unsure of Paddington’s documentation. “You don’t think,” says Mrs Brown, “you don’t think they’d send him back to Peru, do you?” No time to worry! In the next scene, they’re on a plane headed to France, where Paddington charms an entire village and cooks escargots. He had a passport all along, but no one had asked him about it directly.
Bond clearly knew where to draw a line. In early discussions about the first film’s script, the producers considered adding a scene at an immigration office as part of the opening. Alison recalls how the author told them to nix it. But the sequence with Paddington and Mr Brown at the station’s tearoom? Absolutely vital.
You could claim (and many have) that the movies are an unrealistic portrayal of how refugees are treated in the UK. You could say the same thing about the chocolate-box depiction of London. You could be asking too much of a family film. “The point is, it’s the London that can exist,” Bonneville says. “We may read and we may bitch about how ghastly things are, and how divided we are, and how we don’t know our neighbours, but for all that, that sense of community does exist.” It is a fantasy that rings true.
In 2014, to mark the release of the first film, 50 Paddington statues were unveiled across London. Each had been designed by a celebrity: Liam Gallagher turned the blue duffel coat khaki, while Stephen Fry emblazoned it with a Union Jack (that one eventually made its way to Lima). In 2019, Taylor Swift posted a photo of herself wearing a duffel coat on Instagram with the caption: “Can’t stop won’t stop twinning with Paddington.” That year, an animated series launched with Whishaw on voice duties; there are now a staggering 115 episodes. In 2022, Bond’s creation had tea with the Queen in a two-minute sketch broadcast for the monarch’s Platinum Jubilee. He thanks her, in his own elliptical way, “for everything”; they tap the opening notes to “We Will Rock You” on their teacups. When the Queen died a few months later, so many Paddington soft toys and marmalade sandwiches were laid as tributes that the Royal Parks (politely) asked mourners to stop. Next year, a Paddington musical is set to open in the West End.
Paddington is, now more than ever, a four-quadrant bear: cute to the young, comforting to the old; poster boy for immigration, pals with royalty.
“What’s so brilliant is the minute you start trying to talk about Paddington earnestly, you get it all wrong,” Mortimer says, in a comment that resonates but also prompts a little alarm in someone who has been attempting to do exactly that. “It’s almost like the character and the books defy you to take it too seriously.”
So we don’t go earnest; we go—by Mortimer’s own admission—pretentious. There’s a line from Coleridge she came across at university that, she believes, applies to Bond’s work. It goes something like this: “Genius is the imagination of the child carried on into the man.” (The actual quotation, when I find it hours later, buried in an essay by Coleridge, is a little longer and a lot wordier, so let’s go with Mortimer’s streamlined version.) “The child’s imagination,” she continues, “if you can keep hold of it, can be very inspiring as you get older. There’s something of that in these books. It’s like he’s using a child’s imagination when he writes.”
I think about those words the next time I’m at Paddington Station. Children clamber over the bronze statue as their parents take photos. After that, they will probably head to the nearby shop dedicated entirely to Paddington. The poster for the new film fills the window. Inside, you can buy T-shirts and lunchboxes and backpacks.
I head over the canal, walk under the Westway, to a patch of grass at the edge of St Mary’s Terrace. It is not obvious at first, but three figures are standing by a bench. Steel statues to commemorate local people of note: codebreaker Alan Turing, Crimean War nurse Mary Seacole and Michael Bond. On a September morning, crisp autumn light shines through these metal commemorations, sketches rendered into sculpture. Bond is cradling his creation, complete with suitcase and label. The pair are rusting, but you can make out the author’s gentle smile and Paddington’s upturned expression: serious, sympathetic, still curious for the world.
Paddington appears with the kind co-operation of STUDIOCANAL. © Paddington & Co. Ltd / STUDIOCANAL 2024
Originally published on Esquire UK
Get your bows ready, slip into your most charming attire, and add a touch of festive flair with some adorable stockings—because A Very Laufey Holiday is coming back to town. Hurrying down the chimney is Iceland's third best-known musician (after Björk and Sigur Rós) Laufey and her rendition of the Christmas classic "Santa Baby."
This edition of "Santa Baby" adds to Laufey's ongoing A Very Laufey Holiday project, where each year, the winger adds a Christmas song to the album. It started in 2021, with "Love To Keep Me Warm" (featuring dodie), followed by "The Christmas Waltz" in 2022, and "Christmas Dreaming" in 2023.
"This is a story of a nice and naughty girl... as you might have guessed, our tale begins here, on this very stage," Bill Murray quips as the narrator in Laufey's "Santa Baby" music video. There's a whimsical puck to the visual. A hint of a Wes Andersonian fancy, if you ask us. American Ballet Theatre's principal dancer, Isabella Boylston, performs with an ensemble of dancers with a choreography by Alex Wong (So You Think You Can Dance; The Greatest Showman; Smash).
A Very Laufey Holiday will be available on vinyl for the first time, featuring her "Santa Baby" cover. The box set has an expandable design, allowing more addition of Laufey's holiday covers and originals in the coming years. A Very Laufey Holiday is available as a limited edition box set online.
In keeping with the festive vibe going, Laufey's debut concert film, Laufey’s A Night at the Symphony: Hollywood Bowl will hit the cinemas and IMAX theatres for a limited run from 6 December. Filmed in Los Angeles and directed by Sam Wrench (Taylor Swift | The Eras Tour), Laufey performs with the renowned Los Angeles Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl. The film offers a rare, behind-the-scenes perspective on this unforgettable concert.
For more information and ticketing details, click here.
Wickedly great, the beloved musical is wonderfully remade for cinema.
Loosely based on the Gregory Maguire novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West—in itself a side-reimagining of The Wizard of Oz lore—the film is the first of a two-part adaptation of the Broadway musical that made its debut more than 20 years ago. Wicked tells the origin story of the Good Witch Glinda (played by Ariana Grande) and the Wicked Witch of the West Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), two seemingly different characters from The Wizard of Oz. The events of the narrative pre-date the main The Wizard of Oz story, telling the rivalry and eventual friendship of the two leads from their first meeting at Shiz University. Elphaba's odd green appearance brands her an outcast both by her family as well as her fellow students at Shiz but her innate magical prowess draws the attention of headmistress Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh). Through Madame Morrible's tutelage, Elphaba hones her powers, leading to recognition and awe by the Great and Powerful Oz himself. But alas, things aren't as they seem in Oz...
As a complete Wicked nerd (I've watched the musical more than five times in various countries and have practically memorised the original Broadway soundtrack front to back), I immediately listened to the film's soundtrack when it was released on Spotify at the stroke of midnight. I was concerned. Listening to Grande's and Erivo's versions of what I perceive to be Broadway classics, there's a clear difference between the originals by Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel (aka the "wickedly talented Adele Dazeem").
Without having watched the film, I found that while Grande captured the vocal essence and quirks of Glinda quite accurately, Erivo's emotions didn't come across as much until the act's crescendo that is "Defying Gravity". And that's not to say that Erivo doesn't have the chops—she is a celebrated musical theatre force—but rather, the timbre of her voice isn't quite Elphie-like in the theatrical sense. From Menzel to Eden Espinosa to Shoshana Bean to Jessica Vosk, theatre versions of Elphaba have always possessed a piercing, clear quality to their vocal tone, even during her softer moments in songs like "I'm Not That Girl" and "Something Bad". In comparison, Erivo sounded as though she didn't manage to cross an emotional hurdle.
However, the experience is completely different while watching Wicked: Part One. Erivo's voice paired with her impeccable facial delivery made complete sense for a more intimate cinematic experience. The emotions felt more enhanced by close-ups that are not possible in a theatre setting. The welling up of eyes and subtle shifts in posture throughout the film added so much more to every song.
That's the thing about adaptations—there has to be something more, all while staying true to the original. Wicked: Part One does it exceptionally so with beautiful cinematography that brings to vivid life stage sets while adding extra touches that make complete sense. The same can be said of the music. Grande and Erivo each put forth their own interpretations, adding an extra lick and a contemporary melisma here and there, including the very divisive climatic change in "Defying Gravity" by Erivo. But I have to say, in the context of the film, it was a rousing call of defiance that felt completely at home. And hey, Stephen Schwartz himself (the original wizard behind the musical) had a hand in this so every choice is originator-approved.
Special mention goes to Grande whose comedic choices pay wonderful homage to Glindas past and present. Her chemistry with Erivo is also pretty magical, especially during the Ozdust scene that signalled a turn in their characters' relationship.
The fact that I now have to wait a year for the second part as well as "No Good Deed" and "For Good"—arguably the more underrated songs of the musical. But with how masterful the first part was done, I have little doubt that the wait will be worth it.
Apart from the genius transitions that capture the essence of the musical, the big thing to look out for is an extended version of "One Short Day". The film's version includes a short backstory of the Wizard of Oz's beginnings performed by none other than the original Glinda and Elphaba—fan-service for sure, but (as I've mentioned over and over) makes perfect sense.
Wicked: Part One is now out in theatres.
Time to go back, way back. The year is 2000 and Ridley Scott’s Gladiator is storming cinemas. With Russell Crowe as its hero and Joaquin Phoenix as a bad dude, the historical epic—a vengeance story featuring some brilliant sets—swept the box office, awards shows, and school classrooms for end-of-term viewing forevermore (I believe I have seen the first 35 minutes of Gladiator about seven times). Was it inevitable that we would get a sequel? To a film which earned over USD400 million and won Oscars for Best Picture and Best Actor? Perhaps the only surprise is that it has taken 24 years for Gladiator II to enter the arena: this sequel was not built in a day.
Maybe Ridley was waiting for the right lead. He seems to have found one in Normal People’s Paul Mescal, a very fine actor who carries social media trends and fashion movements on his well-turned shoulders, to take up Crowe’s mantle. Mescal plays Lucius, who has been living in northern Africa with his wife when the big bad Roman army come knocking. After the city of Numidia is conquered, a widowed Lucius is ferried to Rome where he is put in a ring with some (remarkably terrible CGI) baboons. Impressed by Lucius’ willingness to bite monkeys, human trafficker-cum-politico Macrinus (Denzel Washington) coaches Lucius into the Colosseum where he is forced to fight sharks, rhinos and personal demons. Around him, Rome burns: twin emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) are running roughshod over the senate, leading Lucilla (Connie Nielsen) to plan an insurrection with her husband General Acacius (Pedro Pascal).
No surprises with how any of this unfolds (even fewer surprises if you have seen the first movie), and the straightforwardness of the plot makes it clear that audiences should simply behold the spectacle. In the most talked-about staging at the Colosseum, the arena is flooded in a recreation of the Battle of Salamis—a sea battle between the Greeks and the Persian navy for those not paying attention during classical civilisation—and Lucius must fight against against some (remarkably terrible CGI) sharks. In another, Lucius fights a Roman atop a rhino. None of this is any match to Lucius, who does not seem afraid of these challenges at any point, even for a single second. Macrinus attributes that success to Lucius’ “rage”, though the star gladiator is also cunning and smart, which adds to his appeal.
With his aquiline features, Mescal certainly looks the part—which becomes a welcome visual gag involving a statue that shares his likeness—and has the jacked arms and legs and shoulders to boot (a result we can attribute to Mescal’s training regime and four prescribed ready-made meals a day). Mescal’s Lucius has the vibe of a man who has never willingly made a joke in his entire life, which is fine, but a sense of humour—this is a ridiculous movie—would not have gone amiss. If he struggles to sustain a leading man performance – well, it’s a two hour plus movie, and the script is uninspiring.
Hechinger and Quinn have the juiciest roles here as the demented brothers whose grip on an empire is crumbling at an alarming rate (what the plot lacks in originality, the pacing makes up for in lunacy). Geta is the more strategic brother, while Caracalla is suffering from a sexually transmitted disease which has now begun to affect his brain as well. Washington just about takes the entire film as Macrinus, who ascends to the most powerful men in Rome in a matter of days. It’s a giddy, ridiculous rise, and Washington’s performance matches that. (The same cannot be said for all the supporting cast, who occasionally read lines as though their scripts were typed out in Latin.)
And Scott sure knows how to deliver what an audience wants. His direction is frenetic, and the film works well as a Roman soap opera. There are moments of real tension in this corrupt Rome, like when Acasius is welcomed by the emperors on his victory lap through the city streets. As the general moves from the hollering crowds to the hush of the emperors’ enclave, from public mania to private menace, there are emotional stakes that are largely absent from the arena. Scott pairs that with a fun, gossipy undertone throughout; servants hide in bushes, whispers spread through crowds. Even the sillier aspects—an anachronistic newspaper, a pet monkey in a frilly outfit—are enjoyable swings, which seem to say: not everything has to be taken too seriously.
It’s a shame that, among all that campy drama, the emotional impact is minimal: the story is simply so obvious, Lucius’ virtues so pure, and his journey to success so unchallenged that the ending arrives with a shrug, rather than an imperial thumbs up.
Originally published on Esquire UK
Back for its fifth edition, Singapore's Mental Health Film Festival (MHFFS) will occur this week (7-10 November). This year's festival is all about breaking down barriers around mental health. With six international feature films following the theme "Building Bridges to Mental Well-being," and a whole lineup of meaningful discussions, this event promises more than just movies—it's about kickstarting conversations that matter.
Immerse yourself in the screenings—drawn from real-life stories that reflect the highs, lows, and everything in between of mental health struggles. Think dementia, navigating family dynamics and even caregiver burnout—the things that we rarely discuss but should. This year's picks included heartfelt tales like Tan Pei Lin's LADY!, a moving story of love and resilience in the face of young-onset dementia. As well as Kim Hopkins' A Bunch of Amateurs, a warm look at companionship in today's digital age. If you're into animation, Deep Sea is a stunning 3D-animated journey exploring themes like childhood abandonment and depression.
Another film to look out for is All the Long Nights and how the disorders mentioned in it might be easily seen as trivial but are more serious than one assumes. Misa Fujisawa (Mone Kamishiraishi) experiences extreme PMS while her new colleague, Takatoshi Yamazoe (Hokuto Matsumura) suffers from panic disorder. Watch as the two become aware of each other's struggles and the support that they provide.
But the films are only part of the experience. After each screening, there are talks that feature mental health professionals and people with lived experiences. These panels are all geared toward sparking open and honest discussions. Chairperson of MHFFS, Dr Jade Kua put it best, "MHFFS films and conversations allow people to see themselves, feel understood and find hope. Our goal is to encourage honest dialogue, foster understanding, and build a more compassionate community that embraces mental well-being for all.”
If you're wondering what the future of mental health storytelling looks like, the Short Film Youth Competition (SFYC) might be the ticket. Open to filmmakers under 35, SFYC aims to inspire young creators to tackle mental health through the medium of film. It's a competition, sure, but it's also a platform for young voices to showcase their work. The top 22 finalists' films will be screened during the festival, followed by Q&A sessions that will shed insights into their films.
Tickets are available now available.
It's all about timing. When the Apple Vision Pro first came out, it was ahead of its time—it could immerse users into its mixed-reality interface but its features were underused. Now that the software (VisionOS 2; more developer apps) has caught up, the Apple Vision Pro is finally doing what it's destined for. And with the release of Submerged, we finally see how the Apple Vision Pro is starting to cook.
Submerged is the first scripted short film filmed entirely in Apple Immersive Video. Directed by Oscar-winner Edward Berger (who adapted and directed All Quiet on the Western Front), the WWII thriller puts users in the middle of the action.
The plot follows a sinking submarine (upon re-reading this article, "sinking submarine" sounds... weird) and its crew, trying to survive. Tor Myhren, Apple’s VP of Marketing Communications, describes Submerged as the next evolution in storytelling. “Apple Vision Pro places you inside the story—inside a packed submarine alongside the crew. The depth of immersion here just wasn’t possible before. We’re thrilled to see how filmmakers like Edward Berger will push the boundaries with this technology.”
Filmed over three weeks, a full-scale, 23-tonne submarine set was constructed to resemble the WWII vessels and was designed for full submersion. Great lengths went into employing practical camera traps and special effects to create an immersive environment. The cast went through extensive stunt rehearsals to keep the action realistic.
Berger's approach to filmmaking was redefined by Apple’s immersive tech. “This new medium expands the horizon of storytelling. Apple Vision Pro allowed us to create a story in a way that was previously unimaginable. It’s a game-changer for filmmakers.”
Submerged is the first in many immersive content for Apple Vision Pro. Next month, Apple teams up with The Weeknd for an immersive music experience to celebrate the diamond-certified artist’s upcoming album, Hurry Up Tomorrow. Fans can also look forward to Concert for One, an intimate new concert series launching later this year, kicking off with a special set from award-winning British artist RAYE and new episodes of Adventure will be released later in the year.
And if you ask us, given the immersion of the Apple Vision Pro, maybe we can expect a horror short film/interactive game?
Beware: this article features Joker: Folie à Deux spoilers.
What’s black and white and red all over? Joker: Folie à Deux, the desaturated sequel to Joker, which is currently undergoing a public beating. A measly weekend haul of $37.8 million in the US! A CinemaScore rating – based on audience surveys – of D! Both are probably very unfunny to Warner Bros executives.
It seems unlikely, even given a healthier international haul of $80 million, that Joker: Folie à Deux will live up in any way to its prequel which earned a billion dollars (a billion dollars!) and netted Joaquin Phoenix an Oscar for Best Clown (sorry, actor). But you know who might have the last chuckle? Todd Phillips.
You could not accuse the director, so adored for 2019’s Joker and currently being pilloried for ruining that film’s legacy, for phoning it in. In the latest episode of Esquire’s Freeze Frame, Phillips is insightful about his film, which charts Arthur Fleck’s (Phoenix) stint in Arkham Asylum as he prepares for trial and learns to live alongside his Joker alter-ego.
Phillips goes deep on the casting—Steve Coogan’s ghoulish journalist, Brendan Gleeson as a manipulative asylum guard, Lady Gaga’s dour take on Harley Quinn (who goes by the name of Lee)—to one of the movie’s prevailing themes, which he calls the “corruption of entertainment”.
He is talking specifically about the scene in which Coogan’s character interviews Arthur about his misbehaviour in the previous film (he murdered five people). The low-rent journo clearly trying to get a rise out of our beleaguered anti-hero, who cannot help mugging to the camera.
As Phillips says, “In the States, often we put trials on television. We’ll put a murderer like Arthur on TV and sell adverts during the interview. We’ll have presidential elections with graphics that make it look like a wrestling match. If everything is entertainment, what is actually entertainment?”
Good question! Clearly not Joker: Folie à Deux, according to Joker fans. They were not keen for a courtroom drama. Or Lady Gaga in her least Lady Gaga-like role. Or the downbeat ending where Fleck is—spoiler alert—stabbed by a fellow asylum patient known as “Psycho” (well, he is not nicknamed “Cuddly”).
Does the film have the verve of its prequel? Bar a few arresting sequences—like when the asylum guards’ grey umbrellas appear multicoloured from Arthur’s perspective—it certainly doesn’t have Joker’s element of surprise (unless you were expecting a villain origin story under the influence of Scorsese). The musical aspect is intriguing, but Phillips and his cast have been adamant that this film is not one, and I am inclined to agree: musicals should feature some peppier tunes and fewer renditions of “Oh When The Saints Go Marching In”.
The best part of this film, in this writer’s superhero-averse eyes, is what it attempts to say about fame. Arthur, who had become a hero to losers (on and off-screen), in the first movie, finds himself at a crossroads in the second. He’s more famous than he could have dreamt—his trial is being televised, his burgeoning romance with Lee makes the front pages—but more tormented than ever before.
His lawyer, played by Catherine Keener, is trying to persuade the courtroom (and Arthur himself) that he has a split personality and needs better treatment (does that exist in Gotham?). Meanwhile, his lame fans wait outside the courtroom, worshipping a version of Arthur that exists—sometimes? In the past? Certainly, when Arthur takes the stand, to the applause of his adoring fans, Joker is absent. The man stammers to an expectant room, completely sans braggadocio.
“Folie à Deux” (maybe the best thing about this film is the title?) refers to a joint psychosis. Sure, that could refer to Arthur and Lee. But more compelling is the delusion shared by Arthur and his fans.
This week, I watched The Franchise, a brisk TV comedy from Armando Iannucci and Sam Mendes, about the making of a doomed superhero movie. The series is an entertaining look at how Marvel fodder is churned out: decisions by far-off committees, pandering to intense fans, overworked CGI departments.
You end up with ugly, boring mush, even if you have helicoptered in an arthouse European director. Watching that show, I found myself warming to Joker: Folie à Deux: it is clearly beyond redemption for many thanks to its weird perspectives, but at least did not commit the sin of not having one at all. Maybe a few jokes next time?
Originally published on Esquire UK
I've written far too many words about 2008’s Cloverfield, the cult-classic, found-footage monster romp that reinvented movie marketing for the digital age. But you’re about to read an interview with the director of that movie, Matt Reeves, so I’m sure as hell not stopping now. Not even two minutes after the 58 year-old popped up on Zoom—about a week before the premiere of the HBO series (slash spin-off of his 2022 feature, The Batman), The Penguin, on which he serves as an executive producer—I had to ask about the trailer. Yes, that trailer.
If you’re unfamiliar: Cloverfield’s first preview, which premiered ahead of showings for 2007’s Transformers, didn’t even feature the title of the damn movie. Audiences saw clips of a birthday party from some dude’s camcorder, the Statue of Liberty’s head crashing into the middle of Manhattan, and the release date (1-18-08). The Internet wasn’t yet a place where you could Google answers to this sort of thing; it broke a lot of brains and went viral before you even called anything viral.
“We were still shooting the movie when Transformers came out over the Fourth of July,” Reeves remembers. “So my girlfriend and I went to the [theatre] and we said, ‘Can you let us go in? Because actually there’s a trailer for something that I’m doing.’ And then we went in there and watched the audience respond. It was really cool. But that was so scary for me because we were so early in making the movie. We’re going like, ‘Oh my God, everyone is waiting to see what it is, and we’re still making this movie!’ ”
Fast-forward nearly two decades and—not to criminally breeze past his revered Planet of the Apes trilogy—Reeves has the keys to Gotham. In 2022, he debuted The Batman, which starred Robert Pattinson as the Caped Crusader. And Mr. Wayne’s notoriously hard-to-please fans...really...loved it? Pattinson flashed Batman’s detective chops, Zoë Kravitz shined as a wonderfully sly Catwoman, and Paul Dano delivered a QAnon Riddler who was downright chilling. In fact, the approval rating for Reeves’s Nirvana-coded Batman universe is so damn high that one of its characters—Colin Farrell’s Oz Cobb, aka the Penguin—is about to enjoy the small-screen treatment. Spoiler: Batman loyalists will love it, too. Its many triumphs include Farrell’s unhinged, Batman-fucked-with-Tony Soprano performance and more time in Reeves’s Gotham, which turns out to be far more intertwined with our world than you’d ever think.
In advance of The Penguin’s premiere on Max, Reeves opened up about his Spielbergian origins, his inspiration for the upcoming Batman Part II, and what the hell possesses Colin Farrell when he becomes Oz Cobb.
This interview, presented in Reeves’s own words, has been edited and condensed for clarity.
When I was a kid, I made 8mm movies, like Spielberg. When I was thirteen or fourteen, I actually met J.J. Abrams because we were in an 8mm film festival—we became friends through that. And then we showed our films at a new art theatre in Los Angeles. And Spielberg, who had that experience as a kid, was like, “I need to see these movies.” So they gave the program to him and he watched it. I heard back from his assistant at that time. She said, “He really enjoyed seeing the films. Thanks.” She called again six months later and said, “We just found all of these 8mm films. Because they’ve been in a hot basement for all this time, they need to be repaired. [Spielberg asked,] ‘Can you get them repaired?’ And I was like, ‘Who’s going to do that?’ He goes, ‘Those kids.’
So the war movie that they’re making in The Fabelmans, that’s Escape to Nowhere. That’s one of the films that we re-spliced together for him. We’re just going, “These are Steven Spielberg’s 8mm films!” And we were these kids. It was mind-blowing.
I was born in ’66. I grew up in a period of American film that really was inspiring. There were a lot of American directors who took other genres and subverted them. Chinatown is really a subversion of a noir. It’s funny, because those movies tremendously influenced me—but I don’t think I ever thought that I would be a genre filmmaker. I started in the vein of thinking that I wanted to be someone like Hal Ashby and make these kinds of sad comedies. My first film [The Pallbearer] didn’t light the world on fire. But it was very personal. When you spend your entire youth as a filmmaker, it’s like a bunch of kids who are getting together and they make their first album. If they’re twenty-five, it really took twenty-five years to make. I spent the first twenty-five years of my life making that first movie, and then that didn’t work. I started having opportunities where I was like, “What would it be if I tried to find a personal way into genre filmmaking?” And Cloverfield was one of those movies where it was like, “Okay, I need this to be about my anxiety. What would I do?”
The intense division that there is right now. On the one hand, you say it’s a thing going on in the United States—and obviously Gotham is an American city—but really it’s worldwide. There’s just tremendous division, the way that the world gets its information, its news. Everybody is in their own silo. That sense of the environment of today, where it’s just very easy for people to be completely separate and at complete odds—that’s definitely one of the things that we’re looking at in Gotham. Some of that is just the way that society is, but some of that is intentional—and to the degree that that’s intentional, and how that fits into the larger picture of what the motivations behind that might be, that’s one of the things that we’re exploring as well.
I always said, we’re going to continue [the Penguin’s] story. Initially, the idea was to continue it in the next film. And then when we were talking about doing shows, I was talking to [The Batman producer] Dylan Clark and [HBO heads] Casey Bloys and Sarah Aubrey. Casey said, “Look, I just want to say, I hope you’re not going to save the marquee characters for just the movies. This is HBO.” And I was like, “Okay, let me tell you what this kind of Scarface-esque story is.” It isn’t his origin story. It’s sort of like Batman’s story—the way that I did it—because there’d been so many origin tales. It’s the early days; it’s the origins of all of the rogues’ gallery characters. Because in the comics, those characters make themselves really in reaction to the arrival of this presence, this masked vigilante. So this is almost like a gangster movie. The idea was to see Oz reach for power in this moment.
Colin is a force of nature. He’s just an incredible actor. And the way [designer] Mike Marino transformed him, that unleashed him. My experience with him in the movie and the show is that I feel like that’s another person. It’s uncanny. There’s something incredible going on. The idea was that then we found [showrunner] Lauren [LeFranc], and we started talking about doing this character study—and to talk about that rise and the obstacles of that. And she came in and pitched the story for the pilot, which I loved. It was so illuminating to Oz’s vulnerabilities.
It’s important to me that all of these characters are doing what they’re doing out of personal motivation. I love the comics, but sometimes there’s an oversimplification. One of the things that I thought that we could do in the movie, and then what we did in the series with Lauren, was to make sure that we were looking into something that felt grounded and real in psychology. Obviously, that’s what Riddler is doing. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. In fact, he’s inspired by this vigilante.
Lauren really was the one in the series who came up with that particular take as it related to Oz. All of it really stems from this idea that his ego is such that he desperately wants to be revered. He desperately wants love. And so that sense of wanting the neighbourhood to revere you is to fill that void of never getting enough love....That’s the idea we’re trying to explore in Batman, too. There’s the simplistic version where he sees himself trying to save the city. But what is it he’s coping with psychologically? What happened to him? It’s funny, as Mattson {Tomlin] and I are finishing writing the second movie, the thing that I always think about is how Batman is not just trying to do something for the greater good. It’s the only way he can make sense of his own life. In a way, it’s saving him.
He’s more of a spectre in the city. I really wanted what we did in the first movie, and what we’re doing in the second movie, to be focused on Batman’s arc. A lot of the other movies, once they do their sort of origin tale—which, of course, is Batman and Bruce’s—then they almost pass the baton over to the rogues’ gallery in such a way that their story actually is the story. But I really want this to continue to be a Batman point-of-view series of movies. So one of the things that was really exciting about the opportunity to do a show was to let it really focus on that rogues’ gallery character and change points of view. The whole movie is done very deliberately from Batman and Bruce’s point of view. The only scenes that aren’t from his point of view are from Riddler’s point of view. And that was done to make you think for a moment: Wait, is that Batman’s or Riddler’s point of view? This was like: What if we could just go down that alley and follow Oz in the wake of what happened in the movie?
I was very conscious about wanting to make the Gotham of The Batman a Gotham that was our world. Even though it’s a fictitious city, the idea was that it would be our Gotham. The interesting thing is: I had been approached before Batman and before Planet of the Apes about other franchises, and I couldn’t do them. I turned them down because I was like, “I don’t know what the way is.” I was really fortunate with Apes and with Batman that those two franchises, I can do something where I can connect personally. And then I’m not handcuffed anymore. I can find a path.
As a producer, I make sure that I’m working with people who have that same kind of personal connection to their work so that it isn’t just the IP. That’s not any judgment. For me, that’s survival....That’s what movies are, right? You go to a movie to have this empathic experience where filmmakers and actors put you in the shoes of people who you are not for a period of time. Then you go and experience it through them in this transportive way. To me, that is the ultimate goal. That's what’s exciting to me about movies.
I just love movies so much. Getting that bug as a kid, expressing myself, and having a place to tell stories, it was really an escape from the craziness of growing up, my family, all this kind of stuff. I just hope that that tradition continues. When I was growing up, movies were so important. And now we have to fight to make sure that movies and streaming content—whatever we want to call it, shows—can connect to people so that the next generation can be just as inspired to tell stories. I just hope that that happens, because I’m excited to see what stories younger people have. I want them to tell it with passion.
Originally published on Esquire US
I mean zero shade to little-known character actors Brad Pitt and George Clooney, but I have to say: Austin Abrams has the best scene in their new film, Wolfs. The action-comedy, which debuts on Apple TV+ 27 September, stars Pitt and Clooney as duelling fixers who are hired to clean up the same mess. Of course, shit goes sideways, thanks to Abrams’s drug-slinging college kid with a heart of gold.
Anyway, back to the scene: Pitt’s and Clooney’s characters interrogate the poor kid in a shitty, jungle-themed motel room—and it seems like he won’t break!—until he does. Abrams promptly delivers a frantic, breathless, can’t-look-away monologue that tells the entire storey of his character, right in the face of two Mount Rushmore–level thespians. I’m still thinking about it.
When I Zoom with Abrams—who also stars on Euphoria as the kindhearted, surely Broadway-bound Ethan—I inform him of this fact. He’s clearly uncomfortable with stealing any sort of praise from Mr. Pitt and Mr. Clooney, so I ask what it was like to spend his 28th birthday at the Venice Film Festival’s Wolfs screening.
“So the movie played late—we got done after midnight, which was my birthday,” he says. “We were up on a roof, and Brad started singing ‘Happy Birthday.’ And then everyone’s singing ‘Happy Birthday.’ Then we went to this after-party, where they brought out a cake and did it again. It was a super-sweet, really surreal experience.”
For the Florida native, it’s one of those birthdays that give you plenty to think about, like where he’s been and where he’s going. In his twenties, he has played everything from a charming Netflix rom-com hero (Dash & Lily) to an abusive boyfriend (This Is Us) to, yes, one of the only sane humans in a school full of batshit California kids (Euphoria).
Now his roles are coming nearly tailor-made for his talents. If you watched Abrams crush “Holding Out for a Hero”—a jaw-dropping but damn funny physical performance—on Euphoria and wanted more, Wolfs is for you. The film sees him darting around Manhattan in his tighty-whities while somehow holding his ground against Clooney and Pitt. At times, his performance is hilarious, tragic, and hilariously tragic.
Today, though, we’re still thinking about birthdays. Mine is a couple weeks after Abrams’, so he wants to know if I’m the kind of guy who dies a little inside when anyone sings “Happy Birthday” to me. The answer is yes—who doesn’t?!—so he gives me some guidance. “Really try to not hide,” he says. “Focus on your chest and try to just feel what’s happening. It’s just a great opportunity where people are giving you a lot of love. They’re here celebrating you. They love you. They want to celebrate you.”
Below, Abrams offers more sage advice and talks about acting alongside Clooney and Pitt, what he knows about Euphoria season 3, and his involvement in director Zach Cregger’s secretive Barbarian follow-up, Weapons. This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
AUSTIN ABRAMS: What’s behind you?
ESQUIRE: I’m in Esquire’s archives room.
AA: Does anyone ever go in there and look at anything?
ESQ: Yeah, people love sifting through the old magazines. There’s a lot of funny stuff—I’m looking at a very old book called Things a Man Should Know About Work and Sex.
AA: Oh, hell yeah! Let’s bust that open! Figure it all out.
ESQ: I know everyone’s asking you different versions of What was it like to work with Pitt and Clooney? But I’m curious what you learned specifically from them that you’ll take to your next project.
AA: They’re geniuses at constructing a scene. I went into Wolfs being like, Okay, I really want to learn from these guys. And you do learn a lot—and you learn a lot from osmosis. But also something that I learned is: He’s just Brad Pitt and he’s amazing. And so it’s like, if you want to be like Brad Pitt, you just have to be Brad Pitt.
I wouldn’t say I was surprised, but I was very grateful when it turned out that they were so sweet and welcoming to me. It’s really impressive, because people in their positions, they don’t have to do that. They don’t have to be welcoming. I feel like I’ve heard so many [horror] stories. With these guys, it’s not the case at all.
ESQ: Wolfs is an action-comedy, but if you really peel back the curtain, your character is a pretty complicated guy. He’s this young, lonely, confused kid who’s idolizing these two traditional versions of masculinity. It feels very of the times.
AA: Totally. If you just go off of what he says, he talks about taking some classes at Pace. He’s still living with his dad. You don’t know if there’s a mom in the picture. Yeah, I feel like there is something about the character where he’s looking toward some sort of male role-model figure. You see it with Richard Kind, who plays my dad. There’s Sinatra [memorabilia] in his apartment—even my dad is looking toward other kinds of male figures. It seems like what you see is a lost son and a lost father when it comes to their identity or their masculinity. It seems like what a lot of young men seem to be struggling with.
ESQ: I have to admit: Dash & Lily was probably my favorite pandemic comfort watch. How do we get ten seasons of Emily in Paris and no more Dash?
AA: I’m not really sure what happened, but it’s lovely to hear something like that. It happens more around Christmastime or something. But if someone says something to me like, “I’ve seen that a bunch,” it’s lovely to hear that it brings someone comfort. We all have our things that we watch every year—and to think that something that I’m in is something that people watch every year, it’s a cool thought to be a part of that ritual.
ESQ: Is that what’s fulfilling about this work for you?
AA: It’s different every time—and you don’t know really what you’re going to get. I’m just thinking about the last thing I did. [I appreciate] getting to know a different part of life, or a way people live, more deeply. Doing the work, you get to know this aspect of life that you never would have known before....There are a lot of different things that can be really fulfilling about it. It’s always a nice thought to think about someone watching [my work] and questioning something in their life. That’s why I dig a lot of Shakespeare, because his work asks a lot of questions. He never tells you the answer.
ESQ: Was Weapons the last project you worked on?
AA: Yeah. Zach Cregger is amazing. I mean, the way that he works and writes—his stuff is so deep. All of this stuff feels like there’s a deeper element to it, and it’s why I really love this work. Also, his humor is just amazing, which also sets him apart.
ESQ: What else drew you to Weapons?
AA: It’s one of those scripts that I couldn’t stop reading—I was up way later than I should have been, finishing it. It’s just very exciting. A lot of really, really great actors. Inspired story. Inspired director. And a great, great character. That’s probably the most I can say, but I’m really excited for it.
ESQ: Okay, I have to move to “Holding Out for a Hero” then. I rewatched the scene this morning.
AA: Oh, you did?
ESQ: How many weeks of choreography did it take to pull it off?
AA: I don’t know where [Euphoria creator Sam Levinson] got the idea that I could do that. Maybe he saw something that I didn’t see. But I never really had any particular sort of dancing skills, so it took a while to even get to a place where I was able to do that.
ESQ: I get it. I don’t naturally have rhythm.
AA: Okay, so imagine being you. And being like, Oh, fuck, I have to do this in a couple months. You could do it. You would just have to figure it out how to do that....It was definitely a challenge. It was nerve-racking. When I first read that, I was like, Oh my God. Also, I didn’t know if I was going to have to sing—I just remember in the script it not being completely clear that it was lip-synced. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case, because that would have been insane. But yeah, it was super daunting at first. But I love dance now.
ESQ: It feels like there’s a new report about Euphoria season 3 every month. What has your experience been? Have you been asked to return?
AA: I really have no idea. I mean, because it was being geared up to go—I mean, years ago, I think.
ESQ: There was one story that said the cast was locked in to start production in January.
AA: I think it was supposed to happen, and then the strike happened. Something like that. So I couldn’t tell you. I have absolutely no idea when they’ll do it, if I would be in it or not. I hope they make it, though. I mean, I love Sam. He always feels really inspirational to work with. The show is a very inspiring thing to work on.
ESQ: Do you have any hopes, dreams, or aspirations for Ethan?
AA: I couldn’t tell you. No idea. I wish him well. [Laughs.]
ESQ: What’s next for you?
AA: A dream is just to keep working with great people and great writing. It’s almost like you have to be careful of what you want or what you desire, because it’s just a desire. It’s just a dream. It’s not real yet, you know? As I’ve gotten older, there’s also an understanding of how you actually don’t know what [a dream will feel] like when it happens. It’s not true that you’ll feel the way you think you’re gonna feel in your head, you know?
ESQ: It’s sobering, yeah.
AA: You’ve gotta be careful of fantasies and what you want in life. I mean, life can be an adventure, hopefully....You have to really go moment by moment. You have to know that if that happens, it may not give you the feeling you thought it would.
ESQ: That’s the hard thing about this age—it’s when your childhood dreams collide with whatever’s happened to your older self.
AA: Yeah, all of those thoughts you had when you were younger—then you’re hit with, like, Oh, shit. It’s not like we’re old, necessarily. It’s just that that age that once seemed far off in the distance is now here. People reading this either get it or maybe they’re freaking out by what we’re saying.
ESQ: Anything you wish I had asked you?
AA: Why didn’t you ask me what I eat for breakfast? I’m a little bit pissed off about that. [Laughs.]
Originally published on Esquire US
The once-delayed sci-fi film, Mickey 17, has shown proof of life with a trailer. Directed and co-written by Bong Joon-ho, Mickey 17 is adapted from Mickey7 by Edward Ashton (which is a great book, by the way) and the film follows the titular Mickey (played by Robert Pattinson), who signed on as an expendable (no, not as a member of that Stallone's ensemble action thriller) to work on the ice planet, Niflheim. As an expendable, Mickey is tasked with all the dangerous jobs—if he dies, a new body of his regenerates with his old memories.
Things come to head when the latest version of Mickey realised that his older clone is still alive. Given the limited resources on an alien planet, it's a huge problem when there's an extra body means that food and oxygen will be depleted much faster. With Robert Pattinson as the lead, we weren't disappointed that his character speaks with the confidence of a resigned death-row inmate. While, the voice may be startling at first, it's kinda perfect for this pushover of a character; one who gives himself over to being killed multiple times.
Previous films deal with the main character dying over and again like Groundhog Day and Edge of Tomorrow but with Bong at the helm, Mickey 17 looks like another feather in his cap. What's not to love with Mickey dying over and over again to the tune of Dean Martin's "Ain't That a Kick in the Head"? Also, given that this is a Bong project, you can expect a good amount of dark humour with the real-life crisis of the exploitation of human labour and... I dunno, fracking. Maybe?
Bong has directed a previous English sci-fi film, Snowpiercer, and the Oscar-winning Parasite. For Mickey 17, the rest of the cast looks exceptional, thanks to actors like Naomi Ackie (Star Wars: Episode IX), Steven Yeun (Nope), Toni Collette (Hereditary) and Mark Ruffalo (Avengers). Mickey 17 is expected to be released next year, 31 January.
