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marybeatriceofmodena · 2 years ago

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What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

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Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

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Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

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And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

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Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

#YOU'RE WELCOME ANON #anon asks #Andrew Lloyd Webber #Patti LuPone #evita #sunset boulevard #phantom of the opera #love never dies

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hugheses · 8 months ago

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ellen weinberg

a lot of people online like to praise her because they love her kids, but before she was mama hughes, ellen weinberg was an even more accomplished athlete than her wikipedia page can tell you. well i have way too much time on my hands and an affinity for googling things, so here is a not-so-little primer on the matriarch of hockey who has contributed far more than just her superstar children.

(basically anything not sourced is from the cammi & aj podcast i have a transcript of)

born in st. louis, she was told she couldn't play hockey because girls couldn't play on boys teams in the state of missouri, and there were no girls teams. went to bob johnson's hockey camp in aspen at age 7. moved to dallas at age 8, where she was allowed to play on the boys team. at age 12, is featured in a news clip "girl hockey player" where she says she wants to one day play professional hockey.

at 15, wins nationals with her U-19 soccer team, the dallas sting, and they are sent to represent the US in the first ever FIFA-sanctioned world women’s tournament in china and proceeded to win gold against all expectations becoming the first US team to win any international soccer competition, male or female. also on this team was her best friend, future woso legend carla werden (overbeck). 1, 2

other noteworthy teammates: she played with mia hamm on her state team and was roommates with brandi chastain at her first youth national team camp for soccer.

she was recruited to lots of top schools for soccer, but chose the university of new hampshire because it was also offering hockey. she describes this as "the lack of landscape really drove my next move" because there was only 31 D1 women's soccer programs in the country at the time, and none in the state of texas.

she reached out to the women's hockey coach at unh, russ mccurdy, and told him she was being recruited for soccer but was really coming to unh because she wanted to play hockey, and he told her that it was unlikely she would make the team. so bob johnson called and asked him to give her a shot, and he said ok. he allowed her to have a one week tryout once soccer season was over, and after the first day, he asked, "what size skates do you wear?" and that was it, she was on the team.

the women's soccer coach, marge anderson, was also a lacrosse player, and encouraged ellen to join the lacrosse team that needed more players. so she did. in her own words:

"I wasn't very good. I could run, but my stick skills- and I learned and I did everything, and it was great, and we went to the Final Four, but I was out at that point. So everybody always says I played three sports like, I was on the team. I was, you know, three sports at that level. I was done at that point and I stuck with soccer and hockey after my first year. But it was a really cool experience."

she may have not been very good but she did go on to coach her own kids teams in lacrosse (and potentially owen power, who is confirmed to have played lacrosse with them but it is not confirmed that it was when she coached them)

(she was #21)

she was an elite skater and creative player, and "would often find herself in trouble in Durham for rushing the puck from her defensive post or trying things like a spin-o-rama".

she helped UNH win 3 hockey championships in 4 years, made the all-new england team (soccer) as a freshman, was named an unh athlete of the year finalist after an injury that kept her out for an entire school year, was named to the ECAC all star team, was an ISAA senior recognition award winner, was soccer co-captain in 1990, and then captain of both the soccer and hockey teams as a senior X

in april 1991, she participated in the Eastern Regional Tryouts of the US National Women's Hockey Team

"We've got it pretty good, playing defense," says senior Ellen Weinberg to fellow defenseman Weston. "There aren't as many of us to choose from. But then, when you look at who's there, they're all good!"

she then went on to pursue a graduate degree at UNH where she was an assistant coach for both soccer and hockey for two years, all the while contributing to historical hockey research to the point that she is named in the acknowledgements of Hockey: A Global History by Hardy & Holman

“It was my way of staying involved because I had nowhere to play. Then I participated in the 1992 World Championship, finished my master's degree. Then I really had nowhere to play." (google translated)

The New Hampshire Vol. 83 No. 18 (Nov. 6 1992)

then in 1992, she played for the women's national team in both soccer and hockey.

the soccer team didn't play in any big tournaments that year, but for hockey she went to women's worlds in tampere, finland, where she was an alternate captain. the US won silver, with ellen scoring 3 or 4 assists in 5 games (depending on which source you believe) and ellen was named to the all-star team by the media as the top player in her position.

also in 1992, she was a power skating coach at the summerland female hockey academy, teaching future star hayley wickenheiser.

there was hope that women's hockey would be a part of the 1994 olympics, but when that didn't happen, ellen went to norway anyways to grow the game.

“They were hoping women’s hockey was going to be sanctioned in the ‘94 Olympics and it wasn’t, so the Norwegian ice hockey federation had all this extra funding so they asked USA Hockey for an ambassador to go over and help grow the women’s game,” she said. “We had played in the ’92 World Championships and I was one of the older people and they offered me that opportunity to go over and work with the Norwegian ice hockey federation and what I did was I lived in Oslo. “And I went around to all the little towns and taught the girls how to play. It was awesome. Since Norway was such a small country with four million people at the time, they needed all the buses during the Olympics so everyone went on holiday, so my job stopped for three weeks.” X

ELLEN WEINBERG of Boston and the University of New Hampshire was interested in Coach TIM TAYLOR's tactics at practice. The 25-year-old Weinberg, one of America's best female players, is advising Norway's women's teams. Women's hockey becomes an Olympic sport in 1998. "They complain in Norway that I coach too long on the ice," she said. "They should see this guy, always instructing." X

she was invited to camp in lake placid for the 1994 women’s worlds (which took place every two years then), but suffered a serious knee injury that she believes is because they didn’t have proper support/training facilities

“We didn’t have a gym at the time. It was so different. We just played relying on our athletic instincts. If I got injured, it’s probably because I didn’t have the ideal support,” (google translated) X

by 1996 she was playing for the itech blaiders roller hockey team in NJ (and her then-boyfriend, jim, was coaching the new jersey rockin’ rollers) while also working in broadcasting

she had been considered a lock for the nagano olympics, despite being “old” but that “blown-out knee effectively ended her competitive career” :(

she ended up in nagano anyways as a reporter for cbs, one of her first big gigs in her media career, which i can do a part 2 on if there's interest.

and currently she’s on the USA hockey foundation board and is a player development consultant for the women’s national team

#hopefully this was interesting/helpful #it’s been half finished for so long #ellen weinberg-hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes

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maraschinocheri · 2 months ago

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Happy 39th birthday to the London production of Les Misérables (which officially opened on 8 October 1985 at the Barbican Theatre, though previews began at the end of September)! By way of celebrations, scans from the 1985/86 / 1986/87 Royal Shakespeare Company Yearbook, which honoured the success of the Barbican production and its transfer to the Palace Theatre by making Colm Wilkinson and Michael Ball during 'Bring Him Home' its cover stars. The annual RSC Yearbook summarised productions in all of the company's (at the time five) theatres and on tour with production photography and critical commentary from newspapers and other media. Text from the pages above is under the cut below, with bracketed extra information to clarify some references.

Not since Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd back in 1979 has there been a score which soared out of the pit with the blazing theatricality of Les Misérables, and to those of my tabloid colleagues already in print with feeble and fainthearted objections to the show, I have but this to say: remember the demon barber. Sweeney, too, we were once told; was too dark, too savage, too downbeat a theme for a musical. Six years on, that show has won more awards and been acclaimed to more opera houses than any other in the entire history of the American musical. Les Misérables, in a brilliantly intelligent staging by Trevor Nunn and John Caird, will achieve a similar kind of long-term success …

[The Times’/Punch’s Sheridan] Morley went on. ‘… The greatness of Les Misérables is that it starts out, like Sweeney and Peter Grimes, to redefine the limits of music theatre. Like them it is through sung, and like them it tackles universal themes of social and domestic happiness in terms of individual despair.’

[The Financial Times’ Michael] Coveney talked of the allying of ‘Nickleby*-style qualities of ensemble presentation to a piece that really does deserve the label ‘rock opera’, occupying brand new ground somewhere between Verdi and Andrew Lloyd Webber. It was not, he thought, a company celebration like Nickleby, ‘but an appreciation of those values along with the musical experience gathered by the team (Trevor Nunn, John Caird and David Hersey) on Cats and Starlight Express.’ To that extent, he went on, the show was an important one, ‘bridging gaps between musical and opera, and subjecting rock musicians to RSC tutelage while last year’s Clarence [in the RSC 1984 production of Richard III], Roger Allam, is unveiled in the role of Javert as an outstanding performer in the musical idiom.’

[*The RSC's landmark 1980 production of an adaption of Charles Dickens’ The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby]

[The Guardian’s Michael] Billington posited that if you fillet any great nineteenth-century novel, ‘you are left with melodrama.’ Les Misérables, he said, jointly produced by the RSC and Cameron Mackintosh at the Barbican, becomes exactly ‘high class melodrama.’ It was staged ‘with breathtaking panache by Trevor Nunn and John Caird. It is impeccably designed by John Napier. It has a lively score by Claude-Michel Schönberg. But it is three-and-a-half hours of fine middlebrow entertainment rather than great art.’ Billington claimed to have ‘conned’ the novel sufficiently ‘to realise that it is a towering masterpiece about social injustice, redemption through love and the power of Providence.’ What the musical offered, he went on, ‘is the hurtling story of Jean Valjean, the paroled prisoner who becomes a provincial mayor, who is relentlessly pursued by the policeman Javert and who achieves heroic feats of self-sacrifice at the 1832 Paris uprising. What you don’t get is the background of moral conflict that makes this more than a classy adventure story.’ In this he thought, Hugo’s novel was infinitely more dramatic than the musical.

[The Times’ Irving] Wardle spoke of the temptation in such circumstances for anyone who has read the novel ‘to quarrel with any adaptation for its omissions and liberties instead of judging the adaptation on its own merits.’ In this instance, he maintained, Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg had done a capable gutting job. ‘They present a clear outline of the epic contest between Jean Valjean, the saintly ex-convict, and his implacable pursuer Javert: including Valjean’s defeated attempt to save the wretched Fantine, and his life-long devotion to her daughter, Cosette, only to lose her to a young love, Marius, amid the Paris barricades of 1832.’

The adapters had cut corners with boldness and ingenuity, Wardle believed, and had found fresh situations where Hugo’s are theatrically unworkable. They had also preserved the essential sense that Valjean and Javert are two of a kind, belonging, as Hugo puts it, to the ‘two classes of men whom society keeps at arms length: those who prey on it and those who protect it.’

Coveney maintained that the organization and placement of the continuously revolving stage was ‘beyond praise’, with John Napier’s design doing as much honour to Hugo’s Paris as he lavished on Dickens’s London [in Nickleby]: ‘Two huge trucks rumble on and form a barricaded wall which, just as Hugo describes, seems to contain a city in itself, a fantastic jumble of chairs, barrels, planks and people, a teeming segment of a revolutionary catacomb.’

This alternative society, Coveney said, was presented without sentiment ‘as indeed are its urchin sentinels, the daughter of Thenardier (a devastating waif performance by Frances Ruffelle) and Gavroche … sweetly and surely sung by an admirable child actor and just when you feel the production is slipping by allowing a [writer of Oliver] Lionel Bart-ish point number, he is shot full of bullets and left to sing plaintively on the wrong side of the barricade.’

The music, [The Sunday Times’ John] Peter though, ‘has a fresh, astringent lyricism and a powerful, ballad-like drive: number after number makes robust contributions to character and drama.’ The best performances, in Peter’s opinion, came from Alun Armstrong and Susan Jane Tanner as the ‘horrible Thenardiers', Patti LuPone (Fantine) and Frances Ruffelle (Eponine). But this was, he pointed out, ‘essentially a company musical rather than a star vehicle. If it transfers to the West End where its masterful theatricality would outshine almost anything else on offer, it might show people that success in this genre doesn’t depend solely on expensive star turns.’ The transfer to the Palace, of course, came swiftly after the Barbican opening.

[The Observer’s Michael] Ratcliffe described Schönberg’s score as ‘all tinselly arpeggios, stabbing staccato, pile-driving trumpets and thinly-disguised hymns.’ In polite terms he said, it was ‘electric, trailing a range of references from high-tech Bizet and Massenet to the air-time acceptable, and Celtic Fringe Folk.’

Some scenes, said Coveney, go straight into operatic form, ‘for example the apprehension by Javert of Valjean at Fantine’s deathbed, or a beautiful garden trio for young lovers in Valjean’s garden hideaway.’ There was also a ‘startling thematic echo of Rigoletto as Valjean ponders the son he might have had.’ Colm Wilkinson’s Valjean was in Coveney’s opinion ‘a remarkable study in impassive acquisition of self-knowledge … He [has] particularly fine and lyrical use of his upper register. Above all he transmits palpable goodness without sounding like a prig or a boar [bore?].’ [The Sunday’s Telegraph’s Francis] King thought Wilkinson not only sang the role with eloquence ‘but – far more difficult – brings out the essential goodness of a much-wronged man.’ The outstanding voice of the evening in King’s opinion, was that of Patti LuPone as Fantine.

The band under the stage and the musical direction of Martin Koch include some rumbling brass premonitions of disaster as well as some very fine work on synthesizers, brass and strings. The score also underpins such exciting production movements as the arrival of the barricade, the suicidal leap (done by the bridge flying up as Mr Allam free falls on the spot) and the descent to the sewers with lots of dry ice and naked banks of light not equalled in impact since Mr Hersey did something similar in Evita.

In short, this is an intriguing and most enjoyable musical, fully justifying the mixing of commercial resources with RSC talent and personnel, even if not all that many RSC actors are involved.* Being now acquainted with the demands of the score, I see why that should be so. [Morley]

[* The RSC members who appeared in the Barbican production were Roger Allam, Alun Armstrong, and Susan Jane Tanner. Other RSC members at this time joined Les Mis in later companies, among them David Delve, who would replace Alun Armstrong as Thenardier.]

#les miserables #les mis olc #revolve 1

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nolita-fairytale · 8 months ago

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so my darling | sydney adamu x the restaurateur (unnamed male oc) | oneshot

summary: sydney falls in love with a restauranteur (one played by pedro pascal). song title inspired by so my darling by rachel chinouriri.

warnings: swearing, unnamed ocs, talking about sex, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, two original characters (the restaurateur & the pastry chef), the pastry chef is the mc from make my heart surrender, wong kar-wai films, ambiguous ending

wc: 4.8k

a/n: ok, so i'm not entirely back, but this photo of pedro pascal and ayo edebiri at the sag awards quite literally haunted me and made me write something about it. also i've really missed all of you. and i've missed these characters. and i miss this world. this oneshot feels really different to me than a lot of the things i've written for the bear and there isn't much inclusion of the other characters because i really, really wanted to write from sydney's perspective. it's limited storytelling in the way that it's mostly her experience of being charmed by the restaurateur but i had a lot of fun with this and i hope you enjoy. fic inspired by the pic below:

nolita fairytale's masterlist

Sydney doesn’t expect to win, yet her name is called out anyway, followed by the phrases: “James Beard Rising Star Award” and “the winner is.”

Most of the night is a blur. Somewhere between winning the biggest award of her career to accepting congratulations from the best chefs in the world, Sydney’s still trying to gather her bearings. It’s not until Carmy’s girlfriend, the woman who picked up her life and moved to Chicago to be with her exec chef, tugs at her arm.

Sydney doesn’t mean to completely reduce the woman to just Carmy’s girlfriend.

She’s also become many other things: the head pastry chef at The Bear, a colleague, and most importantly, a best friend.

“Hey, Syd! Carm wants to introduce you to someone,” she says, before giving Sydney a chance to politely excuse herself from the previous conversation she’d found herself in.

As The Pastry Chef leads her away from her present company, Sydney follows with a soft smile, half expecting it to be yet another celebrity chef—someone in Carmy’s network that reminds her why she began working at the Bear when The Bear was The Beef.

What she doesn’t expect is to meet him, her breath hitching in her throat as she and her best friend who’s dragged her over here, find themselves standing across from Carmy and an unfamiliar man.

“I see a congratulations is in order,” the man greets her, tipping his half-empty glass of champagne in her direction with a smile so charming she has to do a double take.

“To this year’s newest Rising Star chef.”

He’s handsome, sure—but that’s not what catches her eye.

The first thing Sydney notices about the man is his soft, dark curls—much cleaner than the unruly ones that belong to her head chef. He wears thick-rimmed rectangular glasses and has a perfectly groomed mustache that surprisingly works for him. It’s not usually her kind of thing, is all. In a white button down, perfectly tucked into his pristine black trousers, it's somehow still black tie with a touch of rebelliousness for forgoing a tie and a proper suit jacket.

He can’t be much older than Richie, she thinks to herself. What? Ten… maybe fifteen years older than herself?

Reality comes back to her, as she realizes that she hasn’t said a word, wondering just how long she’s spent caught up in her own head over the handsome stranger.

“Oh uh, yeah. Thanks,” Sydney replies with a smile and a nod, snapping back to her senses.

“Syd, this is… probably one of the few mentors I’ve had in my career. Well, him and Terry, ‘course,” Carmy begins to introduce, shyly. He’s not used to the one doing the introductions. “From Malibu.”

“Fairest Creatures,” the man clarifies with a hearty chuckle, citing the name of the restaurant they worked at together. “Way, waaaaaaay back in the day.”

Right.

The restaurant that put Carmy on the map, winning himself the same award that year that Sydney’s won tonight.

That’s when it clicks for her.

An old mentor of Carmy’s.

Not Terry.

And no, not that one—not the asshole from New York—to put it nicely.

The Restaurateur from California.

“No, I-. Yeah! I’m a big fan of your work, yeah,” Sydney scrambles to say, a glimmer of recognition in her eyes as she reaches out to shake his hand.

“Carmy was one of my early boys—look at him now. The student has far surpassed the teacher,” the chef adds, implying he’s mentored plenty of then-up-and-coming chefs back in the day.

“Oh thanks, but uh. Nah, I don’t know about that,” Carmy mutters, quick to brush off the older chef’s compliment.

Sydney can feel The Pastry Chef nudge her playfully, letting out a chuckle in response. The two exchange glances as Sydney follows her gaze from Carmy to his mentor.

“Oh they’re just being modest. Don’t think I’ve ever met two humbler chefs than these two,” the pastry chef adds with a playful eye roll, shooting her lover a look that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Which… if you ask me, is practically unheard of in this industry so… I consider us lucky, Syd.”

Sydney lets out a small, nervous laugh in agreement, before raising her own champagne glass to her lips as she finds herself, suddenly, parched.

She sees him again, weeks later, when the pomp and circumstance of winning a James Beard award has almost died down. She’d been quick to assume that, like many other chefs that weekend, he’d only been in town for the award ceremony, but as Sydney listens to the man tell Carmy that he’s moved to Chicago for “the foreseeable future,” she wonders why she never asked in the first place.

The Restaurateur had come in to say hello, for a meal, and Carmy had quickly declared that it would be on the house—eager to feed the best mentor he ever had in his California fine dining days.

“Yeah, I’ll be steppin’ in for Cuadros… when he goes on paternity leave… and we’re talking about expanding—what that could look like. Well, you know how it goes, Carm. Right now I’m just hangin’ out, helping out where I can between the two restaurants he’s got now,” he explains to Carmy with a nonchalance, as if he’s not a restaurateur whose reputation precedes himself.

“Ah, man. That’s cool. Well, you let us know if you need anything. I’ll give you mine and uh… Syd, you cool if I give him your number too?” Carmy asks, catching Sydney off guard.

“What do you-, I mean-?” Sydney begins to ask, unable to hide her surprise.

“Since he’s new to the restaurant scene here in Chicago. Can help each other out, you know?” Carmy returns, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I-. Sure,” Sydney nods, forcing a small smile in an attempt to shake the ‘deer-in-headlights’ look she’s sure her face has involuntarily contorted itself into.

She watches her head chef carefully, as Carmy continues to interact with the restaurateur in a way that she’s never seen before. She’s never seen him this eager to try to impress someone—hell, sometimes she wonders if Carmen thrives on pretending like he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks—so it’s sends her head spinning as she tries to reckon with this newly-revealed side of her business partner.

“That means a lot. Thank you–the both of you,” The Restaurateur replies, genuinely, bringing her back into the conversation.

“Sure,” Sydney manages to get out, still caught up in her head—exploring this new side of Carmy she has yet to see. “Anything for a friend of Carmy’s.”

“I’m at Amaru most of the time these days,” the restaurateur continues, his eyes shifting from Carmy then back to Sydney as he adds one last thing.

“You should stop by sometime.”

They exchange a few texts here and there, but it’s all business.

Who’s your preferred vendor for kitchen towels?

You guys see success with extended weekend hours?

Thoughts on being open on Monday?

“He likes you,” The Pastry Chef insists one day, in between lunch and dinner service. Sydney quickly shoves her phone back into her apron pocket, as if she’s a kid again—one who’s gotten caught texting in class.

“What? He does not! I-. This is-, it’s not-, we are two professionals… talking shop,” Sydney dismisses, because it’s easier to push those thoughts aside than to entertain them.

“Syd. He could be texting Carm but he’s texting you,” the her friend continues, completely and utterly unconvinced. Sydney finds herself on the receiving end that says, ‘cut the bullshit’ as The Pastry Chef continues.

“Even if it is… just about work, I think it says something that he’s texting you, Syd. I mean, do you know how long it took me and Carmy to-.”

“Okay, but not all of us are you and Carmy!” Sydney interjects, letting out an uncomfortable laugh as a means to break the tension.

Off her look, her friend just chuckles with a shake of her head, reminded of a time that she too could live this far in denial.

“If you say so,” The Pastry Chef resigns herself, accepting that she won’t make much progress on this one today.

She waits a beat, focused on cleaning up her station as Syd unconsciously checks her phone to see if there’s a notification from a certain someone yet.

“When are we going? To his restaurant, I mean,” The Pastry Chef speaks up again with a quirked eyebrow.

Could she really have noticed that? Syd wonders.

This time, Sydney only groans in response with a mumbled, “Fuck off. I am sick of you,” earning a bigger laugh this time from her pastry chef friend.

But the conversation seems to be the push she needs. It only takes a week or so longer for their days off to align, and Sydney’s the one bringing up the idea: that they should do a happy hour at Amaru to “show support” (and nothing else — really, no ulterior motives at all).

The Pastry Chef is more than enthusiastic about the idea, easily suggesting that they make it a girls’ night.

Which is how Sydney finds herself here, seated between her two biggest cheerleaders, Sugar one side of her, and her pastry-chef-colleague-turned best friend, at the bar of the Pan-Latin American neighborhood spot. She’s sure that Sugar was recruited for said girls’ night, in an attempt to get a second opinion on whether the handsome, older restaurateur is or is not in fact, into her.

She doesn’t hate the idea of it, for the record, but she wonders if they’re reading this all wrong—hesitant to get her hopes up.

But after the first plate—a gift from the kitchen—and the aperitif sent their way, both on the house, Sydney can only assume that The Restaurateur has something to do with it.

Of course, it’s easy to chalk it up to good hospitality. After all, hadn’t they done the same when he visited The Bear, a few things on the house Carmy insisted they send out? Isn’t it customary?

Sydney thinks back to how easily Carmy had given her number to the older chef, eager to extend as much support as possible to his previous mentor as he transitioned into the Chicago market.

But he wasn’t texting Carmy all that much. Just her.

She tries not to brush off yet another excuse: because she’s the CDC, not Carmy; because maybe he thinks Carmy, as the exec chef, doesn’t have the time when she does. Syd thinks she could go on and on like this, and instead, for a split second, she allows herself to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s because her friends aren’t all that wrong about this.

“You’ll have to forgive me. I wanted to come say hello earlier, but. Well, you know how it goes,” The Restaurateur says, earning the attention of all three women. While he acknowledges both of her friends warmly, he makes sure to he’s look at Sydney as he concludes with:

“I’m glad you came.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for everything. Seriously. Everything’s been amazing,” Sydney answers, wondering why it suddenly feels five degrees warmer inside of the restaurant.

Sugar snickers and the knowing look shared between her and The Pastry Chef doesn’t go unnoticed.

She just might have to kill her best friends later for this.

The Restaurateur smiles, and with a polite nod of his head, mutters a ‘thank you’ before her friends chime in with compliments, kudos, and their own respective ‘thank yous’ for the superb hospitality. Syd listens as he picks The Pastry Chef’s brain on their newest dessert addition, while Sugar enjoys what feels like a well-deserved second margarita. As The Restaurateur explains the most recent dishes he’s added to the menu since taking over as CDC, she notices that somehow, his focus and attention always seem to return to her.

He can’t visit for long, The Restaurateur apologizes—it is a busy night of service—and before she knows it, he bids his goodbyes before disappearing to the back of the house for the rest of the evening.

“Well he definitely likes you,” The Pastry Chef declares, as soon as he’s out of earshot.

“Oh. So obvious,” Sugar adds with a knowing smirk as the two exchange the exact same glance from earlier

“I’m gonna kill you guys,” Sydney mutters, her head hanging low as she feels a heat rush to her cheeks. She can’t make eye contact with either of them—not right now—or she might just burst into flames.

“Well, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you! That’s for sure,” Sugar clarifies, earning a nod of agreement from The Pastry Chef.

“See! This is what I’ve been telling her since… shit, since he came to The Bear a few weeks ago!” the pastry chef exclaims, sharing another looking with Sugar. “I think he likes you and I think you like him.”

Sydney opens her mouth to say something, but instead, just lets out an exasperated sigh, earning another round of giggles and exclamations of ‘I knew it!’ from her best friends.

They don’t stay for much longer, knowing they’re all due back at the restaurant in the morning. The three women say their goodbyes before parting ways, and as Sydney sits on the train, on the way home with her phone on do not disturb, she notices a few notifications waiting to be read.

A text from Carmy about the prep list.

The pics from tonight waiting for her to open in the group message labeled: Girlies.

And then, from the Restaurateur…

Thanks for bringing friends! It was great to see you.

There’s a familiar heat that warms her cheeks as her fingers race to reply:

Thank you for everything. The meal was incredible.

She waits before adding:

I’m glad we stopped by.

And almost instantly, there’s a reply:

Come back any time. :) With or without friends.

Come back any time. With or without friends.

The words linger in her head over the next few days. She lets them settle in, tossing them back and forth in her mind, while holding what feels like a fragile kind of excitement in her hands that’s somehow seemed to have buried itself deep inside of her.

So he is flirting with you, she thinks to herself, coming to the conclusion that her friends were perhaps right about The Restaurateur.

She doesn’t want to completely misread the situation, but she’s not sure how else she should interpret it either.

It takes Sydney two more weeks to work up the courage to go back to Amaru on her day off that week. Part of her wonders whether it’s been too long—if she’s missed her chance—and part of her knows that in the business they’re in, the days blur together, and two days become two weeks, become two months, and that he probably hasn’t even noticed that’s been that long. Her and The Restaurateur are both on Kitchen Standard Time, right? She’s not sure what takes over her, but she’s somehow mustered up the cajones (she can practically hear Tina’s voice in her head as she hypes herself up) to show up, this time, without friends.

Her risk does not go unrewarded, when he comes out to say hello. This time, he’s not alone, introducing her to his soon-to-be-business partner, Chef Cuadros, the owner of Amaru and his other venture, Bloom. They exchange pleasantries and congratulations (you know, over the huge fucking deal of an award she’s just recently won) before he pats The Restaurteur on the back, excusing himself back to the kitchen.

The Restaurateur chuckles, noting how much he’s looking forward to joining Cuadros’ restaurant group.

“Rodolfo’s a great guy,” The Restaurateur sighs, contently.

“Yeah, he seems great,” Sydney agrees, almost just to be polite.

“Yeah. Really leads by example. Rare to find that in this industry,” he chuckles, before changing the subject.

“Speaking of. Cuadros is closing up tonight which means I’m off, starting now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You wanna get a drink?”

She doesn’t even have to think about it.

“Yeah. I uh-, I’m in.”

“It’s devastating!” The Restaurateur declares, the passion evident as the words escape his lips.

“I mean, the transitions are a little choppy. And even they can’t take away the fact that: It. Absolutely. Without a doubt. 100% ruined my life,” Sydney wholeheartedly agrees, completely captivated this conversation—one that she finds incredibly sexy.

“I cry. Every single time,” the man that sits across from her says, a dopey smile plastered to his face and a heat to his cheeks from the second whiskey on the rocks he’s nursing.

“Every single time!” Sydney emphasizes, just to drive the point home.

“Because, well-, I mean, they just can’t catch a break! Always just a moment too late. It’s like… well, it’s like they’re never supposed to end up together in the first place,” The Restaurateur clarifies, in reference to what about the film is so goddamn devastating.

Syd nods with a sigh, examining the idea in her head cautiously, knowing that he’s right—even if she doesn’t want him to be.

A beat.

She leans in, the corners of her lips beginning to turn up into a smile.

“Have you seen Chungking Express?” she asks, because she’s ready to start this whole thing over again.

“Have I seen-? Are you-, of course I’ve seen Chungking Express,” the Restaurateur answers, building on their shared excitement about finding common ground outside of the kitchen. “I love Wong Kar-Wai so much I even put myself through My Blueberry Nights.”

“Okay, chill. It’s not a competition,” Sydney jokes, earning a full bellied laugh from The Restaurateur.

“You’re funny,” he states, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles back at her.

Her heart skips a beat, her breath caught in her throat.

The way he says it is genuine. It’s real. It feels… more earnest—more intimate than what should exist between two colleagues.

Then again, she didn’t exactly say ‘yes’ to drinks thinking it was just as colleagues.

“I-,” Sydney hesitates, scrambling to find the right words when it feels like so many of them could burst out of her at any minute.

Instead she settles on, “Thanks,” feeling more like Carmy than she’s ever felt in her life.

There it is again—that flutter in her belly.

This man is most definitely flirting with her, a thought that only mildly causes her to panic.

The moment feels almost too tender for either of them. Sydney shifts nervously in her seat while The Restaurateur takes another sip of his whiskey, before clearing his throat.

“I uh. I should probably get going. It’s uh… yeah. It’s getting late,” Sydney says, finding the words to excuse herself.

She’s not sure what she wants out of this—it’s maybe why she takes the out in the first place, thinking it may be best to end the evening here. Tonight was… more than she expected it to be, and she’s torn between wanting to stay and wanting to flee the great state of Illinois.

Better pause while we’re ahead, Sydney thinks.

“Yeah, no, of course,” The Restaurateur agrees, easily, before insisting that he pick up the tab.

“No, I-, I couldn’t let you-,” Sydney begins to argue.

“Please,” he insists, his tone once again rendering her once again at a loss for words. “You’ve been more than helpful to us over at Amaru since the minute I got here. This is on me.”

Syd spends the next few days going back and forth over whether or not it—whatever the hell the other night was—would be a good idea. She eventually concludes that she can’t stay away—from the high, from the way he made her feel when he insisted on paying the bill (a moment she’s replayed in her head over and over again), from him. She doesn’t tell anyone: not Nat, not The Pastry Chef, and certainly, not Carmy.

She sends the text before she can chicken out one Saturday night, as she finishes closing up.

Heading to Green Door Tavern for a night cap.

He puts her out of her misery, quick to respond as always, almost as if he was expecting her to (or waiting for her to, which, she decides is a little too much of wishful thinking).

I was just thinking about you! Just rewatched 2046 the other night. Want some company?

Yeah.

Let me close up. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way :)

The smiley face.

The fucking smiley face.

She discovers that the same dopey smile finds its way across his lips as soon as he enters the bar. The two of them quickly find themselves in yet another deep conversation about foreign films over, for him, a whiskey on the rocks, and for her, a tequila soda. There’s that same buzzing in the air between the two of them—chemistry, one might call it—as they move from Wong Kar-Wait to Jean-Pierre Jeunet with an ease that feels good to her.

Really good, actually.

So good that as soon as Sydney realizes it’s getting late, she doesn’t run in the other direction. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but she thinks this time, she could stay. This time, she could talk to him till the sun came up, allowing herself to get lost in his soft brown eyes she finds more comforting than she should. It’s not till he brings it up that she notices again that:

“It’s getting late.”

“Oh shit. Yeah,” Sydney agrees, reluctantly, because she doesn’t want this night to end. Before she can say anything else, her body moves to get up, just half an hour away from last call.

The Restaurateur stops her, reaching out a hand that feels warm against hers as she pauses, her eyes locked with his.

“I hope it’s not uh, well, I hope it’s not inappropriate of me,” he begins, clearing his throat as he pauses.

“No, I-, I don’t want the night to-, you know… I lost track of time too and I-,” she stammers through, unsure of what she wants to say.

He smiles warmly, his hand moving to grab hers, as if, in spite of the fact that she can barely get the words out, he understands exactly what she’s trying to say.

“You can say ‘no,’” he prefaces with, a sure nod as his gaze returns to hers.

“Can I take you home?”

And the only response that makes sense to her is the biggest, most enthusiastic:

“Yes.”

Maybe it’s just a one time thing.

Okay, a three-time thing, considering it happened that night, then two more times after the sun came up.

But to Sydney’s surprise (and delight) he texts her later that day, and the one (three) time thing becomes a one to three times a week kind of thing (schedules permitting, of course).

They fall into a rhythm—and she likes this rhythm—they cook, work at their separate restaurants, and then she lets him fuck her into his mattress like they didn’t just work their own respective twelve-hours shifts.

The Pastry Chef lets out a laugh, noticing that it’s the third day in a row that Syd’s come in having ‘not gotten enough sleep’ yet still glowing.

“How’s the sex?” she smirks, shooting Sydney a look.

In return, Syd rolls her eyes, like she isn’t getting laid on the regular, her best friend waiting patiently for a proper answer.

She checks over both shoulders to ensure no one else is listening before lowering her voice.

“It’s the best sex of my life.”

She finally moves into her own apartment a month later.

Of course, it’s a decision she’s made on her own volition and has nothing to do with the hot Restaurateur who seems like he might have some kind of staying power—the same one that’s giving her the big bang of orgasms, but that’s besides the point.

No, it most certainly has nothing to do with that.

With Chef Cuadros officially out on paternity leave, The Restaurateur somehow still manages to find the time to help her move in between running two restaurants while developing the concept for a third.

It’s the first night he spends the night and they sleep—just sleep—since she started seeing him, though they christen the place in the morning.

“We’ve been talking about a full nixtamalization program. For the new spot,” The Restaurateur explains over breakfast tacos one morning—ones he made for her in her new apartment because, of course, they had to christen the place in more ways than one.

“Shit. That’d be dope,” Sydney replies, as they continue to bounce ideas back and forth. “Do you think you could pull it off in that small of a space?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” The Restaurateur grins, before going into a near-monologue about the handful of creative solutions he’s come up with, eager to soundboard a few ideas off of her.

But Sydney finds herself a little distracted.

It’s not that she’s not listening… but she’s got something else on the tip of her tongue that she’s been holding back. The Restaurateur is in the middle of breaking down the logistics, contemplating whether or not they could pull off what he’s labeled, Idea B, when Sydney finally musters up the courage to blurt out:

“I want to cook something for you. Like not in a restaurant, or anything. I mean. Here. I want to cook something for you here.”

“Yeah?”

A beat.

“Yeah, I mean. It doesn’t have to be like-, I don’t know, this big thing or anything. But. You’re always cooking for me,” she explains, unsure of why she feels so nervous as she continues. “I kinda want to return the favor.”

He only smiles.

“Then it’s a date.”

It started as the best sex of her life, but it’s as if he’s carved out a place in her life without her noticing, seamlessly woven himself into her life, and she, his, in a way that she can’t imagine what it was like before.

It simultaneously excites her and makes her feel uneasy.

Fuck.

She doesn’t really even know what she should call ‘it’ anyway.

They haven’t really talked about it—haven’t given it a label—but with shifts at The Bear for her, running two restaurants for him, and fleeting nights spent at each others’ places before it was time to do it all over again, it’s not like they’ve had the time.

She finds herself in late Fall, almost Winter, all dressed with a newly-done silk press at yet another James Beard fundraiser. Her coat was checked in long ago as she bares her shoulders in the near-off the shoulder, gingham-printed dress, with The Restaurateur by her side. He wears thick-framed glasses, his white-collared shirt unbuttoned low enough that she’s more than ready to head back to her place to undo the rest.

It practically gives her deja vu—the two finding themselves in an all-too-familiar place—as they stand across from Carmy and The Pastry Chef, sipping on their fancy champagne and making small talk to the best of anyone’s ability.

“Hope you guys don’t mind. Can we get a few pictures?” the event photographer asks as he approaches, noting that a picture of this year’s Rising Star award recipient is a must on his shot list.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Sydney replies, a kindness in her voice even through her discomfort.

It’s not lost on her that Carmy’s more than relieved that he doesn’t have to be in the spotlight anymore, eager to step out of the way.

She poses for a few photos solo before both Carmy and The Pastry Chef are encouraged to join in, taking a few more shots with her.

“And then can we get one of the two of you?” the photographer asks, this time gesturing towards The Restaurateur.

Sydney opens her mouth to protest, to let him off the hook, because what would that mean? Before she can say anything, The Restaurateur has happily agreed, wrapping an arm around her, his hand on the small of her back.

She exchanges a look with him, something that says, ‘are you sure?’

He only nods in response, a supportive smile and a softness in his eyes that puts her at ease as if to say, ‘of course.’

Instinctively, she reaches for him, his right hand landing softly against his midsection. She feels the warmth of his palm as his hand slides up, landing somewhere above her wrist, making another point of contact. Well, now they certainly look like a couple.

“Great! That’s great, you two,” the photographer grins after taking a few more shots, his eyes fixed to the screen on his DSLR as he plays back the last few photos. “Thanks so much.”

What could this mean?

What could this be?

She doesn’t have all the answers.

Not yet, at least.

But she’ll take a wild guess—one that fills her with a certainty that she can feel in her bones.

Because tonight, he stood proudly by her side—his hands all over her as if she were his, in a photo she’s sure will make it out of Adobe Photoshop—meaning maybe, just maybe, The Restaurateur could be here to stay.

#nolita fairytale's masterlist #sydney the bear #sydney adamu #sydney is the main character #sydney adamu x oc #sydney x male oc #sydney adamu fanfiction #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #ayo edebiri #pedro pascal

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d-criss-news · 6 months ago

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Darren Criss Live at Tre Posti Vineyards

Pre-Concert Wine Tasting Reception • Live Concert in the Vineyard • Post-Concert 3-Course Vintner's Dinner

Time & Location Jul 25, 2024, 6:00 PM Tre Posti Vineyards, 641 Main St, St Helena, CA 94574, USA

About the event Please note: Concert is at 7:30pm. Arrival time varies based on ticket type. Broadway & Vine invites you to an unforgettable evening pairing some of Napa Valley most beloved vintner's with a concert by Golden Globe, Primetime Emmy, Critic's Choice, and SAG Award Winner Darren Criss (TV: Glee, Ryan Murphy’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, Hollywood, Broadway/Off Broadway: Maybe Happy Ending, Little Shop of Horrors, American Buffalo, Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2015), How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying) at Tre Posti's Vineyard. For this concert, Darren will be performing a playlist of songs featured throughout his wildly eclectic career as both a songwriter and performer. Supplement your concert experience with a pre-concert wine tasting reception and post concert Vintner's dinner.

Since bursting onto the pop-culture landscape over a decade ago, Darren Criss has embodied the kind of kaleidoscopic artistry that’s entirely uninhibited by form or genre. Before Darren Criss exploded into the internet’s subculture as both an actor and songwriter for the YouTube viral hit A Very Potter Musical in 2009, he had made a small name for himself playing unique interpretations of popular songs he’d perform at cafes and bars in his hometown of San Francisco. Little did he know that the same knack for covering tunes would serve him well in 2010, when he was cast on FOX’s massively successful musical series Glee, from which many of his performances of popular songs would lead to several Billboard-topping records. In 2015 his songwriting also landed an Emmy nomination for Best Original Music and Lyrics, from penning the song “This Time” for the show’s series finale.

Criss has continued to write and produce music extensively through the years, whether for his own releases as an artist or as a songwriter for theater, film & television. In 2019 Criss created, executive produced, starred in, and provided all the original songs for his short-form musical comedy series Royalties, and earlier this year provided the music & lyrics for the opening number of the 2022 Tony Awards: Act One. As an artist, he most recently delivered a genre-diverse collection of "character-driven" singles as part of his 2021 solo EP titled “Masquerade” (BMG), and in the same year, released a full-length Christmas album titled- aptly- A Very Darren Crissmas (Decca).

As an actor, Criss is a veteran of the stage whose Broadway credits include the titular role of Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2015), How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying (2012), and the most recent 2022 revival of David Mamet’s seminal play American Buffalo alongside Laurence Fishburne and Sam Rockwell. In 2018 his work in Ryan Murphy’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story received wide critical acclaim, earning him a Primetime Emmy, Golden Globe, Screen Actors Guild, and Critics’ Choice Award. He was most recently seen starring in Netflix’s hit series Hollywood, for which he also served as executive producer.”

Please Note: The event will be held outdoors at sunset and the temperature will vary. Seating is based on party size and arrival time, and is up to the discretion of the event management. No seat is greater than 35 feet from the stage in this exclusive Broadway concert experience. ALL SALES FINAL.

#darren criss #broadway and vine #broadway and vine's 2024 concert #upcoming events #may 2024

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jbaileyfansite · 6 months ago

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On June 6, the 2024 IndieWire Honors ceremony will celebrate 13 creators and stars responsible for some of the most stellar work of the TV season. Curated and selected by IndieWire’s editorial team, this event is a new edition of its IndieWire Honors event focused entirely on television. We’re showcasing their work with new interviews leading up to the Los Angeles event.

Ahead, “Fellow Travelers” star Jonathan Bailey writes about the many qualities that earmarked the collaboration between our Wavelength Award winners, showrunner Ron Nyswaner and star and executive producer Matt Bomer.

When it comes to celebrating the collaboration of Ron Nyswaner and Matt Bomer, I have to acknowledge how both of them influenced me long before I came onto “Fellow Travelers.” Their work on both sides of the camera has permeated in the same way.

Ron’s writing has always been so significant to me because of his ability to provocatively Trojan-horse brutal truths with tender, human experiences and romances. And this has sculpted my understanding of how to be and how to love. Matt Bomer is someone who visibly made me understand what was possible as I grew up in a world where it seemed that being an out gay actor wasn’t going to be an easy task. There he was — brilliant and visible, a lighthouse.

Now, to see the two of them come together and shine so bright in and around the work of “Fellow Travelers” and to understand the journey it took them both to get to this place, is remarkable. They really are warriors in the same way as Tim and Hawk.

When I first spoke to Ron, he said to me, “This project has been 10 years in the making. It might be my life’s work.” And I replied to him, “Well, whoever you invite to play Tim or any of these characters, it will be their life’s work as well.”

With Matt, we started in Gold Struck Coffee on Cumberland Avenue (the jokes write themselves). The two of us had an hour-long conversation about how we felt, our apprehensions, the opportunity, and the thrill we felt seeing the stories of Tim and Hawk on the page. He led the whole company of actors with such elegant grace and intelligence. He’s a force for good on set and a brilliant friend.

It has been extraordinary to see the work of “Fellow Travelers” celebrated, and that is a reflection of so many people in so many different capacities, but all of whom are being led by these two amazing people, Matt and Ron. And as a society, as a community, and as people who love television, we should always be grateful to them.

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#fellow travelers #jonathan bailey #matt bomer #ron nyswaner #indiewire #indiewire article 2024 #NEW!

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vro0m · 2 years ago

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Ok I have one. Explain to me a very basic, level 1 concept of F1. Like. The most simple way. Everyone should know this but I don't.

Hi Sae 💕 I set out to explain simply a very basic level 1 concept of F1 and ended up writing you an essay, I hope you don't mind. I can't help myself but infodump.

If you ask people what's most important in F1, chances are they'll tell you about the cars, the engines, the aerodynamics, the driver's talent but I'm here to argue that some of the most decisive and/or exciting moments the sport has given us to see were down to : relationships.

You always, always have to do better than your teammate (an unnecessarily long essay by vro0m)

I wanna preface this by saying I'm unfortunately missing a chunk of good examples because although I've been, as most of you know, watching Lewis' entire career from the start I've not yet seen 2016-2018 but it doesn't matter.

Introduction :

As you know, F1 is made of 10 teams, and each team has 2 drivers. It also awards 2 titles per season. One is the World Constructors' Championship, hereby referred to as WCC, that is won by a team, as per the points both of their drivers earned combined. The other one is the World Drivers' Championship, hereby referred to as WDC, which, as the name suggests, is awarded to the driver who's won the most points over the season.

This unique feature creates one of the most complicated networks of relationships in the world of sports, because each team wants the most points aka for both their drivers to do well VS. each driver wants to do better than his teammate. They have to work together to help the team, but they have to work against one another to help themselves.

It's a recipe for angst and drama, and god knows we love it.

It's also very much a key feature of the sport, and you can find examples of it influencing the way events unfold in all eras, although I will focus only on the years I have myself seen.

Teammates, rivalries, and egos :

Take the very famous Multi-21 drama. Mark Webber joins the young Red Bull Racing team in 2007. His teammate is David Coulthard, a veteran who's soon to retire. Webber was a midfield driver, who got his hands on a new, midfield team seat and must have thought he was set for life. Who knows, the team might even get better? But in 2009 the stars align and shine not on him but on young, golden-haired Sebastian Vettel, his new teammate, who ran into him once before in 2007 during his first season, after what Webber called him "a kid" and blamed his lack of experience.

Indeed Sebastian is a decade younger, brazen and moving through the ranks about as fast as the rocketship RBR has suddenly managed to put together. It's his third year in F1, against Webber's eighth, and he finishes 2nd in the WDC, not one, but two ranks ahead of him.

In 2010, they collide again during the Turkish GP, while Webber is in the lead and Vettel tries to overtake him, sparking controversy over the team's management of the drivers. Webber finished 3rd and Seb had to retire from the race. But it didn't matter in the end, because that year, he won his first WDC, and RBR won their first WCC. And then again in 2011. And then again in 2012. The blond kid turns out to be the golden goose.

And Webber is pissed. Because as a driver, when your team puts together a winning car, you don't have a good excuse for not winning the title anymore. All there is to it is that he's not as good as his teammate, and that's the worst thing a driver can be in F1. You always, always have to do better than your teammate. Even when your team is last. Why? Because you're in the same car. Your teammate is the gauge of your actual driving skills. If you end up behind another team's driver, you can always say his car was better. There's no hiding your shortcomings when it's your teammate. Even less so when the spotlights are shining on you.

So what does he do? Work his ass off? Train? Study the car better? No. He blames management. Right from 2010, as soon as he realised who he was up against, even though he was leading for most of the season, he claims RBR is giving Seb the preferential treatment.

Team principals :

See, that's the third angle of that love/hate triangle. Driver-driver-team principal.

If you're a team principal, your drivers are a constant headache because chances are they fucking hate each other. Might or might not be okay off track, but as soon as they sit their asses in the cars, they most probably hate each other. And the more your team wins, the more they hate each other! Backmarker teams usually have rather minimal internal drama because what are you fighting about? P19? But when you start winning... boy oh boy.

Because that's the whole point, right? You're more or less happy to be a team player when there's not much on the line for you (although as stated earlier, you still wanna finish ahead of your teammate). But when you're in a winning car??? That might be your only chance to win a WDC in your whole life. Better seize it. Better fucking win. Better run your teammate off the track as you do it because he now also has a winning car.

Back to the team principal. You don't care which one of your drivers finishes first, as long as your team finishes first. You know what doesn't help teams finish first? Drivers crashing into each other while racing for the win, like Webber and Vettel in 2010.

Enter team orders.

Team orders... or not :

Team orders are exactly what they sound like : the team is ordering their drivers to act a certain way, whether they like it or not, because the team is looking out for the team and the drivers are looking out for themselves. It's the team being a stern parent and getting a grip on its rowdy children. No more games. Now you sit down and obey. Now you're also looking out for the team. After all, we're paying you.

Team orders are controversial, because nowadays when a team is good, a team is usually dominating. Hence there's no real racing at the front, the dominating team's drivers finish first and second most of the time. So if you don't let them race, and they have no real competition, then there's really nothing to watch, and it gets boring. Team orders are also controversial because it doesn't give the other driver a chance.

That same year, Lewis Hamilton joins a then "best of the rest" team. Upper midfield, if you will. Lewis and his new teammate, Nico Rosberg, are childhood karting friends who are finally living their shared dream of being F1 teammates. And Mercedes takes a different path. A risky path. They decide that their drivers can race each other. They claim it pushes them to do better. Rivalries drive people, right? As much as your teammate is a gauge, he's a benchmark. You always, always have to do better than your teammate.

But you don't give a shit, you're a team principal. Doesn't matter in which order your cars arrive. As far as you're concerned, your cars are first, out of all the other teams' cars. So you give team orders. You protect your 1-2 finish. Better believe Horner was fucking pissed when his drivers crashed in 2010.

(Now, not always. Not all the teams. There was a time Mercedes let their drivers race for real, for real. We'll get to it.)

RBR tried it the stern parent way. It doesn't always work though. Malaysia 2013. Mark Webber is leading the race. Sebastian Vettel is second. They have about 10 seconds on the Mercedes, there's no threat on the horizon. "Multi-21," they are told. That's team orders for you guys are finishing in that order. That's stern parent for fall in line and bring home the 1-2. Webber is obedient, of course, he's in the lead. His goal aligns with the team's goal. But Seb is a brat, and his goal is not P2. The tensions have been piling up for several years now. While his elder relaxes in the lead, reassured by the team orders, Seb doubles down, attacks, and overtakes him for the lead. Fuck your team orders. Fuck Webber. Although he claims the relationship didn't impact his decision, Webber quits F1 at the end of the season.

The team is actually doing really well, finishing 2nd in the WCC. Lewis finishes 4th, Nico 6th. The challenge is set. And in 2014, new regulations, new cars, the racing gods smile down on Mercedes like they did RBR in 2010, and they get a fucking rocketship for the next eight years. We're in a dominating situation, mostly. They had some competition, but most of the fighting was, in the end, infighting. It's the brocedes era. The most brilliant example of the complexities of F1 team relationships.

At first, it's exhilarating, racing each other at the front. But it's like Icarus and the sun, you cannot lose sight of the goal. Because you can't win and have a friend. From using engine modes they weren't supposed to use to try to beat each other, to controversial pole positions that might or might not have been won by cheating, Lewis ends up calling an end to their friendship only a third of the way through their second season together. And then, it's Mercedes' version of the 2010 RBR drama : Nico collides with Lewis, costing the team the 1-2. Turns out all the F1 roads lead to drama.

Lewis wins in 2014. Mercedes wins in 2014. Lewis wins in 2015. Mercedes wins in 2015. Nico wins in 2016. Mercedes wins in 2016. But Nico is so frayed by the rivalry, he quits. Just like Webber.

Now what? Mercedes tried it the other way and they got the same results RBR did. Many wins, and one driver short.

Toto Wolff hires Valtteri Bottas. And Bottas is the final example of F1 relationships because he's the sacrificial lamb on the altar of Lewis' career. It's the last concept we'll talk about today : first and second drivers.

First and second drivers :

See the last, and arguably most common, solution to the thorny team VS. teammate problem is to have, more or less explicitly, but mostly less, a first and a second driver. Which means, as a team principal, your order of priorities goes team > driver 1 > driver 2. It simplifies things for you because you don't have to juggle your drivers, favouring one over the other and then the other over the one, to keep them both happy and obedient and not crashing into each other, like Mercedes had to at some point to try to tame the intra-team war the Lewis-Nico situation quickly evolved into. They thought they had a spark, they ended up with a forest fire.

But does it, really, simplify things? No. Because you always, always have to do better than your teammate. No driver is in it for the team. They're all in it for themselves. They put up with the team because they have to. If the team doesn't support them, well... Why would they support the team? And that's why they end up ignoring team orders. See, although Webber did it (as long as he was in the lead, anyway) most drivers will not ever admit to being a second driver. Think Perez pretending RBR supports his fight for the title. Why? Well my friend, because you always, always have to do better than your teammate. They will never admit that the whole team decided that their teammate is the one they should back, at their own cost.

And that's just another source of resentment, right? They hate the team for not backing them up, and they hate their teammate because he's better. On top of it, they can't vent openly about it because it would be admitting that they're the second choice. So amp up team radio drama and internal problems shushed behind closed doors.

Now that's not what Valtteri did, actually, surprisingly. Valtteri thought he had a chance, but he didn't. First of all because Lewis is practically untouchable as I mentioned in another essay, but also because his seat was built on the ashes of Nico's. There was no way they were letting the situation get that out of hand again. Enough with the permissive parenting. Turns out Mercedes is not the fun dad after all.

Valtteri is good. But Lewis is great. Valtteri doesn't have the kind of record sheet Lewis does. Choosing a first and a second driver is not so much a thought-through decision than common sense. Mercedes' management most probably didn't sit down at a table and write it down. It just... was. Valtteri never got close to winning the title. And I know I've said it before but it's truly a wonder he didn't start hating Lewis for it. For being the second driver. Oh it did damage, don't get me wrong, but most drivers externalise such things rather than internalise them like he did. But eventually you can only sacrifice yourself for so long. Again, none of them are in it for the team. Valtteri was a perfect second driver, he obeyed, he didn't create drama, and he pushed himself to the point of exhaustion trying to catch up to Lewis to beat him the right way. Some people might argue he's not selfish enough for F1. I'll argue at least he's a decent human being. It might even have worked with a different teammate, but it was Lewis.

So he left. Now he's not stepping on podiums anymore but he is better than his teammate. And you always, always have to do better than your teammate.

#f1 #essay #vro0m's asks

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duckprintspress · 6 months ago

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10 Books for Pansexual and Panromantic Visibility Day!

May 24th is Pansexual and Panromantic Visibility Day, so make sure to say hi to your pan friends before they’re invisible again! We’re celebrating with (shock) book recommendations! Explicit pan rep is hard to come by, and in cases where it’s implied, the difference between interpreting a characters as bi versus pan is often down to personal perceptions of the character and the sexuality/romanticisms in questions. With that in mind, we present 10 titles we loved with either explicit or implied pan rep! The contributors to this list are: Nina Waters, Tris Lawrence, boneturtle, E. C., and two anonymous contributors

All Systems Red (The Murderbot Diaries series) by Martha Wells

“As a heartless killing machine, I was a complete failure.”

In a corporate-dominated spacefaring future, planetary missions must be approved and supplied by the Company. Exploratory teams are accompanied by Company-supplied security androids, for their own safety.

But in a society where contracts are awarded to the lowest bidder, safety isn’t a primary concern.

On a distant planet, a team of scientists are conducting surface tests, shadowed by their Company-supplied ‘droid—a self-aware SecUnit that has hacked its own governor module, and refers to itself (though never out loud) as “Murderbot.” Scornful of humans, all it really wants is to be left alone long enough to figure out who it is.

But when a neighboring mission goes dark, it’s up to the scientists and their Murderbot to get to the truth.

A Fisherman of the Inland Sea by Ursula K. Le Guin

The award-winning stories in A Fisherman of the Inland Sea range from the everyday to the outer limits of experience, where the quantum uncertainties of space and time are resolved only in the depths of the human heart. Astonishing in their diversity and power, they exhibit both the artistry of a major writer at the height of her powers and the humanity of a mature artist confronting the world with her gift of wonder still intact.

Commit to the Kick by Tris Lawrence

For eighteen years, Alaric has lived under the cloying politics of family and his Clan community. His freshman year is supposed to be a chance to explore a world where Clan and his shapeshifting Talent isn’t central to his life. But when his inner bear bursts forth during his first football game, endangering those around him, Alaric realizes that it’s not so easy to ignore his past, or his own internalized anger.

In his quest for anger management, Alaric begins to train in taekwondo, and makes new friends in both sports. He finds that he is creating his own small community, where Clan, Mages, other Talents, and even humans come together and build their own found family.

When Alaric receives news that something has happened to his brother Orson, he must return and deal with his Clan and his place in their world. He discovers that old prejudices are still strong between Clan and Mage communities, but that both may be in danger from a creature long thought to be only a legend. Alaric must figure out how to move forward and prevent a war and protect both his home and newly built communities, his found family with him every step of the way.

Count Your Lucky Stars by Alexandria Bellefleur

Margot Cooper doesn’t do relationships. She tried and it blew up in her face, so she’ll stick with casual hookups, thank you very much. But now her entire crew has found “the one” and she’s beginning tofeel like a fifth wheel. And then fate (the heartless bitch) intervenes. While touring a wedding venue with her engaged friends, Margot comes face-to-face with Olivia Grant—her childhood friend, her first love, her first… well, everything. It’s been ten years, but the moment they lock eyes, Margot’s cold, dead heart thumps in her chest.

Olivia must be hallucinating. In the decade since she last saw Margot, her life hasn’t gone exactly as planned. At almost thirty, she’s been married… and divorced. However, a wedding planner job in Seattle means a fresh start and a chance to follow her dreams. Never in a million years did she expect her important new client’s Best Woman would be the one that got away.

When a series of unfortunate events leaves Olivia without a place to stay, Margot offers up her spare room because she’s a Very Good Person. Obviously. It has nothing to do with the fact that Olivia is as beautiful as ever and the sparks between them still make Margot tingle. As they spend time in close quarters, Margot starts to question her no-strings stance. Olivia is everything she’s ever wanted, but Margot let her in once and it ended in disaster. Will history repeat itself or should she count her lucky stars that she gets a second chance with her first love?

Maneater (Monsters of Moonvale series) by Emily Antoinette

If something ever seems too good to be true, it probably is. That’s how the “friendly” invitation to join a new coven turned into a surprise demon summoning. At least it wasn’t a virgin sacrifice. Then I really would have been screwed—and not in the way they plan for with the succubus they’ve bound.

When I help free her from the bindings and offer her a ride back to work, things get even weirder. She tells me she wants to see me again. This captivating woman wants to see me—a nerdy witch who spends his free time playing D&D.

There’s no way she means it. Because that’s definitely too good to be true. Still, there’s no way I can resist the opportunity to spend more time with a goddess like her.

There’s Magic Between Us by Jillian Maria

A diehard city girl, 16-year-old Lydia Barnes is reluctant to spend a week in her grandma’s small town. But hidden beneath Fairbrooke’s exterior of shoddy diners and empty farms, there’s a forest that calls to her. In it, she meets Eden: blunt, focused, and fascinating. She claims to be hunting fae treasure, and while Lydia laughs it off at first, it quickly becomes obvious that Eden’s not joking-magic is real.

Lydia joins the treasure hunt, thrilled by all the things it offers her. Things like endless places in the forest to explore and a friendship with Eden that threatens to blossom into something more. But even as she throws herself into her new adventure, some questions linger. Why did her mom keep magic a secret? Why do most of the townspeople act like the forest is evil? It seems that, as much as Lydia would like to pretend otherwise, not everything in Fairbrooke is as bright and easy as a new crush…

Fire and Flight (ElfQuest series) by Wendy and Richard Pini

The forest-dwelling elves called the Wolfriders are burnt out of their ancestral home by vengeful humans. Betrayed by cowardly trolls, the elfin band, led by Cutter, Blood of Ten Chiefs, must cross the Burning Waste to find a haven they’ve never seen before. Can the Wolfriders survive? If they do, what surprises await them at Sorrow’s End?

Fledgling by Octavia E. Butler

This is the story of an apparently young, amnesiac girl whose alarmingly unhuman needs and abilities lead her to a startling conclusion: She is in fact a genetically modified, 53-year-old vampire. Forced to discover what she can about her stolen former life, she must at the same time learn who wanted-and still wants-to destroy her and those she cares for and how she can save herself.

Final Draft by Riley Redgate

Laila Piedra doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, and definitely doesn’t sneak into the 21-and-over clubs on the Lower East Side. The only sort of risk Laila enjoys is the peril she writes for the characters in her stories: epic sci-fi worlds full of quests, forbidden love, and robots. Her creative writing teacher has always told her she has a special talent. But three months before graduation, Laila’s number one fan is replaced by Nadiya Nazarenko, a Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist who sees nothing at all special about Laila’s writing.

A growing obsession with gaining Nazarenko’s approval–and fixing her first-ever failing grade–leads to a series of unexpected adventures. Soon Laila is discovering the psychedelic highs and perilous lows of nightlife, and the beauty of temporary flings and ambiguity. But with her sanity and happiness on the line, Laila must figure out if enduring the unendurable really is the only way to greatness.

Before I Let Go by Marieke Nijkamp

Best friends Corey and Kyra were inseparable in their tiny snow-covered town of Lost Creek, Alaska. But as Kyra starts to struggle with her bipolar disorder, Corey’s family moves away. Worried about what might happen in her absence, Corey makes Kyra promise that she’ll stay strong during the long, dark winter.

Then, just days before Corey is to visit, Kyra dies. Corey is devastated–and confused, because Kyra said she wouldn’t hurt herself. The entire Lost community speaks in hushed tones, saying Kyra’s death was meant to be. And they push Corey away like she’s a stranger.

The further Corey investigates–and the more questions she asks–the greater her suspicion grows. Lost is keeping secrets–chilling secrets. Can she piece together the truth about Kyra’s death and survive her visit?

You can also view this list on the shelf on our Goodreads, or visit Bookshop.org and check out this list in our affiliate shop! Note: due to the difficulty of differentiating a pan characters versus a bi character unless which they are is explicitly identified in canon, we have put bi and pan characters on joint lists – so these lists linked are bisexual and/or pansexual character lists.

What are your favorite books with pansexual and panromantic characters?

#duck prints press #book recommendations #queer books #queer book recommendations #rec list #book recs #pansexual #panromantic #pansexual visibility day #panromantic visibility day

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shortpplfedup · 11 months ago

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2023 Year In Review: Quick Hits

It has been...a year. I struggled a lot this year, lots going on in my real life and ending on a mixed bag, but there was a lot that kept me lifted and plenty of it was in and around QL. I legit don't have the energy for a long and intense write up, so some quick hits.

1. The People

So many of y'all, you know who you are, but I want to call out the loyal pod listeners, the whole clown squad (no tags, Fight Club rules) and extra-specially @the-conversation-pod team @ginnymoonbeam @lurkingshan and especially @bengiyo. You don't even know friend, but there's days you legit kept me going.

2. The Shows

There's so much I genuinely enjoyed this year, across the spectrum, and you'll get to hear more on that when we publish this year's VIIB Awards and Year In Review eps around the last week in January, but my personal top 5 this year in no specific order:

Our Sky 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale Of Thousand Stars

Step By Step

What Did You Eat Yesterday 2

My School President

Moonlight Chicken

3. The Characters

I've said before I process a lot of my emotions through media. Here are the characters that resonated most this year:

Uncle Jim (Moonlight Chicken)

Ichijou Souta (Naked Dining)

Kaido Amane (If It's With You)

Cher (A Boss and A Babe)

Kawi (Be My Favourite)

4. The Moments

Most people don't know but I live in Rewind City, on 0.25x Speed Street. Here are some of the moments I watched on a loop this year.

P'Jeng and Nong Pat's first time, Step By Step (neck smelling drives me insane)

Chinzhilla performing 'Just Being Friendly' on the Hot Wave stage, My School President

Mon topping Sam, GAP The Series

Jim sniff kissing the fuck outta Wen and rocking his entire world, Moonlight Chicken

The chocolate kiss, Utsukushii Kare 2

Every time Ritsu pleasured Masumi without taking his eyes off his face, The End Of The World With You

Phupha finally making it right and giving Tian the mosquito net moment he should have given him all those years ago, OS 2 x 1000 Stars

Cher takes off Gun's shirt and just looks at him, A Boss and A Babe

King, Uea and the goddamn birthday cake, Bed Friend

Sailom and Namnuea's wedding, Wedding Plan Special

Hantae carrying Baram to the bedroom, Sing My Crush

The Big Damn Kiss, I Feel You Linger In The Air

Yamato and Kakeru intertwining fingers as Kakeru tells Yamato to keep liking him, I Cannot Reach You

Mhok and Day getting a little closer than necessary on SkyTrain, Last Twilight

5. The Messages

This year more than ever, I found myself gravitating toward shows centred around ideas of compassion, acceptance, bittersweetness and 'a soft epilogue'. I'm well out of the first flush of youth, and while it can be heartwarming to watch the younguns experience it all for the first time, lived experience makes romance DIFFERENT. There's something about having tried and failed and finding it in you to try again that just hits. Something about knowing yourself and feeling something you thought might be dead in you come alive again. Last love for me, every time.

Happy Holidays folks. Onto the next one.

#year in review #best of bl 2023 #on art

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fuckyeahelijahwoodfan · 4 months ago

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A great interview and lots of photos for ensemble magazine

Adored honorary Kiwi Elijah Woods is excited. His second film with Kiwi director (and husband of Ensemble’s co-founder Rebecca Wadey) Ant Timpson is about to be released and he’s fantasising about the meals he ate in Aotearoa while shooting here last year.

Unlike the first film they made together (Come to Daddy, an R18 dark, comedy horror filmed on Vancouver Island in 2018), Bookworm brought Elijah back to the filming location he’ll be long associated with.

Part Bigfoot genre movie and part a touching examination of parenthood, it’s a film that combines subject matter close to both Ant’s and Elijah’s heart, this time wrapped up in a wholesome PG rating.

A man of impeccable taste, Elijah has in the past worked with friend, photographer and filmmaker Autumn de Wilde on a Prada campaign, DJs with his friend Zach Cowie under the moniker Wooden Wisdom, and is friends with Kate and Laura Mulleavy of LA fashion brand Rodarte. He’s regarded by many – except perhaps Jared Leto – as one of the nicest people in show business.

Another example of his incredible taste? Early next year Elijah will marry long-term partner Mette-Marie Kongsved, one of the most beautiful (in every sense of the word) human beings we’ve ever met – and the person who named Ensemble.

Elijah and Mette-Marie were friends for several years, before falling in love while making the Sundance award-winning film I Don’t Feel At Home in This World Anymore, which Mette-Marie produced, starring Elijah and Melanie Lynskey. When asked the best thing about the Danish producer, who also worked on Come to Daddy and Bookworm, Elijah brightens. “There's too many to name. She speaks seven languages. She is a bright shining light that makes a huge impression on everyone that she meets. She's very funny. She loves adventure. She loves food as much as I do. We share a lot of the same interests. She loves the Danish hotdog.”

What’s the best meal you've ever eaten?

It's a hard question to answer, but I would probably say it was at Fäviken in Sweden. Mette-Marie and I went there for New Year’s when we’d just started dating. We built our entire trip around eating there; we’d seen a profile on it and the chef, Magnus Nilsson, on Chef's Table. It’s remained one of my favourite meals, both in terms of an experience and the food. It was just totally all encompassing.

There were a few guest rooms so we opted to stay there and it was just magical. It was snowing, we drove up, there were these fire pits outside and a gentleman in a beautiful suit came to our car and he's like, ‘Elijah, Mette-Marie welcome.’ We were in the experience from that moment and the meal hadn't even started.

The meal itself was incredible. And the environment, it was like two tiered. You started the meal downstairs in this one area by a fireplace, and then moved up to this main dining room, in this old rustic, almost barn-like building. It was just magical.

The meal ended with cigars and cognac in a teepee outside. It was unbelievable. Oh my god. Then there was breakfast the next morning. It was totally magical and insane. That’s hard to top. The restaurant doesn't exist anymore. Magnus stepped down. He has an apple orchard now.

#elijah wood #ensemble magazine interview 2024 #bookworm 2024 #mette marie #elijah wood and Mette marie are getting married next year 🫠😇😍

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defectivevillain · 2 years ago

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struck by your lightning (idol au)

pairing: kaminari denki x reader

reader’s pronouns: he/him

You're a reporter working at the red carpet of a national award gala. You've convinced yourself that you're doing just fine. At least, you're doing fine until you interview Kaminari.

notes: since this fic is both a chat fic and a regular fic, the formatting is better over on ao3. but, I wanted to post it here too :P

Against all odds, you’re the agency member selected to serve as a reporter on the red carpet at the biggest gala of the year. There will be musicians, actors, and a plethora of other celebrities in attendance. The very thought of having to interact with those kinds of people makes you extremely nervous. It’s an amazing opportunity, of course. You just hope you can live up to the public’s expectations.

You end up spending the week before the gala drafting interview questions. You’ve decided to lean into a more fun and lighthearted type of interview. No doubt, the guests in attendance will be accosted with all sorts of personal questions throughout the night. You hope it’ll be refreshing for them to get asked noninvasive questions.

As for your attire, you’ve been provided an agency-regulated outfit to wear. It’s a suit- rather luxurious, but nothing too eye-catching. Ultimately, the celebrities will be wearing far more flamboyant and attention-grabbing outfits. You’ll fade into the background, with any luck. Despite that knowledge, however, you’re a bit nervous. You’re not a stranger to being on camera, but the thought of your interviews being posted to Youtube makes you pretty anxious. Unlike live television, platforms like Youtube can immortalize content. Your embarrassing moments will live on forever. You grimace to yourself. No pressure, right?

Amazingly enough, you end up being fine. You get to meet and speak with famous figures like All Might, Shoto, and even Shota Aizawa. The interviews aren’t awkward, somehow. You do notice the celebrities all relax after you ask your first stupid question. They don’t seem to expect things like: “What’s your favorite thing to do in your free time?” or “Favorite movie to watch at 3am?” That only makes the interactions all the more pleasant. You even receive murmured words of gratitude from a few of them.

You’re fixing your hair in the reflection of a handheld mirror provided to you when there’s a sudden presence in front of you. Admittedly, you haven’t had much of a break between interviews- the red carpet has been rather busy the entire time. You decide to take advantage of the moment’s respite you’re given. “Sorry, I’m fixing my hair,” you decide to murmur, taking one final look in the mirror before handing it to the assistant standing behind you. “Okay. Hey, how are you?” You look up, only to find yourself staring at Kaminari Denki. The Kaminari Denki- the idol with over thirty million listeners and sold-out concerts across the world. You’re certain that you’re going to fumble your words several times in front of him. It’s not even like you’re a fan of him- you’re just brutally aware of how immensely popular he is.

“I’m good,” Kaminari responds, an easy smile on his face. You take a moment to look him up and down, raising an eyebrow at the sleek white suit he’s wearing. It’s perfectly fitted, unsurprisingly. There’s an expensive watch- likely worth more than your entire salary- on his wrist. “It’s crazy to be here.”

“I’m sure!” You remark, wincing at how your voice sounds. It sounds a bit too much like your fake customer-service voice. You take a deep breath and try to recollect yourself. You’re supposed to be here; you have the experience needed for the situation. “It’s not your first rodeo, though, is it?”

“Nope,” Kaminari answers, pushing a piece of hair out of his face. Cameras flash around the two of you. Kaminari is certainly used to it. You, on the other hand? Not so much. You’re blinking stars out of your eyes as you try to listen to him. “I was at last year’s gala, too.”

“Lucky you,” you say with a strange mix of sincerity and humor. Thankfully, you’re holding onto a placard, so you aren’t tempted to do anything stupid with your hands like shooting finger-guns at him. “Hey, what’s your best tip for not making a complete fool of yourself on the red carpet? I’m asking for a friend, definitely not for myself.”

Kaminari laughs at that. “You’re doing just fine, don’t worry!” He’s just as cheerful in person as he is depicted online. Well, it appears the Internet is sometimes right about things, you think to yourself. Kaminari squints for a moment, evidently contemplating what to answer with. “My biggest tip, though… I think I’d just try to remember that everyone here is human. We’re all nervous. Some are just better at hiding it.”

“That’s a pretty good tip, actually,” you acknowledge with a nod. “Alright, well… Do you have anything coming up that you’re looking forward to? I’m sure the audience would love to know.” You lean back towards the camera and wink. Kaminari blinks at you for a few seconds, as if distracted.

“Well, I do have an album coming soon,” the idol starts, a mischievous smirk growing on his face. You can practically feel the paparazzi off to the side waiting with bated breath. “But I can’t share the details.”

“Not even for me?” You put on your best puppy eyes and you swear that, for a moment, Kaminari’s facade cracks. You’re quick to reassure him that you’re just joking, however. “Kidding, of course. That’s great to hear. I’m sure your fans will be pleased. Maybe I’ll give it a listen.”

“You will?” The idol seems pretty surprised and you’re not sure why. It’s not like the offer is tedious or taxing. It would be easy enough- you listen to music a lot throughout your days.

“Sure,” you shrug, suddenly feeling a little flustered. “You’ve been very kind. You’re pretty cool and down-to-earth, too.” You’re sure that your expression may be falling a little far away from professional respect, but you can’t quite control it. Kaminari is just so easy to talk to.

“Thanks.” You’re not sure what else to say- especially when faced with his insistent gaze- so you look down at your placard for any last-minute questions you can throw in. Your eye catches on the one stupid question you wrote down and you huff a laugh.

“Okay, so… one last question,” you say to the idol. Thankfully, Kaminari doesn’t seem annoyed at the prospect. He seems pretty easygoing, all things considered. His agreeableness makes your job much easier, admittedly. “Pancakes or waffles?”

“Pancakes, one hundred percent,” You gasp in mock offense and place a hand over your heart. Kaminari crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I see you prefer waffles. Can’t imagine why.”

“Waffles are fu- freakin’ amazing, excuse you,” you say, only slightly fumbling in your attempt to censor your cussing. The idol notices and grins. “Do pancakes have pockets? Didn’t think so.” You smile smugly. Kaminari looks entirely indignant at the thought.

“So?” Kaminari asks. “Pancakes can just as easily have syrup and toppings-” Before the idol can finish his sentence, someone places a hand on his shoulder and whispers in his ear. Kaminari nods and then turns back to you, an apologetic expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I have to get moving,” he frowns, as if genuinely bothered by the idea of ending the conversation. You immediately shake your head to reassure him that he doesn’t need to apologize. If anything, you should be the one apologizing.

“Sorry for keeping you,” you grimace, taking a moment’s glance around your immediate area. It’s as if your surroundings are crashing back down on you and you begin to realize the scale of the entire event. It was easy to forget when faced with Kaminari’s intent gaze. “Thanks for the interview.”

“Of course,” Kaminari responds, looking frighteningly sincere. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he stares at you, apparently incapable of tearing his eyes away from you. Eventually, there’s someone at his shoulder again and the idol nods. He turns back to you. “Love ya.” Kaminari grins and winks.

“Love ya,” you respond habitually. The idol then walks away, evidently on to the next media outlet or celebrity. You wait a few moments before turning back to the camera and putting your head in your hands. The placard slips to the ground and, in your embarrassment, you don’t even notice. You’re too busy imagining the angry Tweets from Kaminari fans. Ugh.

Against all odds, you manage to get rid of your unease and go through the motions throughout the rest of the night. Thankfully, you’re only working the red carpet- not the whole event itself. So, instead of going into the rather fancy event hall, you can traipse back home and wallow in your embarrassment and humiliation.

When you get home, you make yourself dinner and have a bit of dessert for surviving that red carpet unscathed [well, your pride isn’t unscathed, but that’s a different story.] You’re dreading the media attention you might have received, but ultimately, you decide to open Twitter anyway. Kaminari is trending, unsurprisingly. However, it seems there’s another tag trending: #Reporter. Dread coils in your chest and you click on the tag before scrolling down to the first Tweet.

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angie | @kamisimpsimp

a valid reaction to kaminari, tbh

[reporter.gif]: A GIF of you turning to look at the camera and putting your head in your hands.

2.8k comments | 114k retweets | 498k likes

______________________________________________________________

Heart racing, you scroll down to the next Tweet.

______________________________________________________________

surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

guys i think i might have to side with the reporter on this one… waffles are absolutely better than pancakes

1k comments | 230k retweets | likes

____

jj | @dendendenki

In response to @kamipikakami

are you fucking WRONG

207 comments | 49k retweets |107k likes

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surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

In response to @dendendenki

#TeamWaffles

24 comments |2.4k retweets | 8.9k likes

______________________________________________________________

no. 1 kaminari stan | @narinaridenkki

Kaminari seemed rly comfortable,,, thx reporter-chan for taking care of him 🙏

80 comments | 6.9k retweets |43k likes

____

alex | @kaminarunaronari

In response to @narinaridenkki

“reporter-chan” 💀

2 comments | 8 retweets |23 likes

______________________________________________________________

Well, those aren’t so bad. You were expecting far worse, honestly. You continue to scroll- which, in hindsight, is your fatal mistake.

______________________________________________________________

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

okay but is it just me or was there some tension there…

[interview.jpg]: A screenshot of Kaminari standing next to you during the interview.

657 comments | 34k retweets | 107k likes

____

just thinking abt kaminari | @denk1kam1nar1

In response to @heyheyh3y

kaminari looked whipped fr

14 comments | 673 retweets | 1.3k likes

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stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

In response to @denk1kam1nar1

RIGHT ?? mf glanced over his shoulder at the reporter as he walked away…

8 comments | 201 retweets | 877 likes

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just thinking abt kaminari | @denk1kam1nar1

In response to @heyheyh3y

kaminari seemed flustered when the reporter winked, too 😭

0 comments | 4 retweets | 60 likes

______________________________________________________________

i said what i said. | @urfavescouldnever

this is why i love kaminari denki- his gay ass is just so immensely relatable.

[kami.gif]: A GIF of Kaminari walking away, but not before turning to look over his shoulder at you once more. His cheeks are ever so slightly pink.

7k comments | 403k retweets | 1.2m likes

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jj | @dendendenki

In response to @urfavescouldnever

to be fair, i’d be looking back at the reporter too… he’s hot

409 comments | 3k retweets | 18.2k likes

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i said what i said. | @urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki

that’s factual

0 comments | 21 retweets | 451 likes

______________________________________________________________

Admittedly, you’d never noticed that Kaminari had looked back at you. It’s not like that means much, though. There could be a million different explanations for that. Perhaps he just wanted to make sure his assistant was walking behind him. Surely that’s it.

Surprisingly enough, people seemed to be well-receiving of your interviewing skills. That’s good, you think to yourself. You certainly hadn’t expected for people to be commenting about your looks- you figured you would slip to the background when standing next to Kaminari.

You think about the Tweets you just scrolled through. Ultimately, you wish they were true- that Kaminari was actually interested in you. That’s nothing more than a desperate hope, though. It was an interview and nothing more.

You drown your doubts in ice cream and watch the rest of the award show. A few of the artists you listen to are in attendance and you’re curious to see if they win anything. Kaminari ends up winning an award and you smile at the ecstatic look on his face. The rest of the event passes rather slowly, as there are frequent commercial breaks. You find your eyes slipping closed more often than not and it doesn’t take long for you to drift off into sleep.

You’re woken by a loud buzz from your phone. You sleepily reach a hand out and grab your phone, turning it on and wincing at the sudden brightness. It seems you slept for a few hours. There’s a notification sitting on your lock screen. You frown and tap it.

______________________________________________________________

Unknown Number: hey, is this the reporter from doublevision?

______________________________________________________________

Immediately, your heart begins to race. Was your number leaked? You don’t remember ever sharing that information, but you could have slipped up somewhere… You’re so preoccupied that your next few responses are subconsciously typed and sent.

______________________________________________________________

You: um..

You: who is this?

Unknown Number: kaminari denki

______________________________________________________________

You can’t resist a disbelieving laugh at that. This asshole woke you up from your much-needed nap… just to pretend to be Kaminari? That’s hilarious. It’s also immensely frustrating, but somehow, you’re feeling generous today and you don’t cuss them out.

You: haha. nice try.

Unknown Number: wdym i’m literally kaminari denki

You: and i’m the mf president

Unknown Number: i’m being serious 😭

You: yeah, me too, dude

You: you def have the wrong number methinks

Unknown Number: i’m actually kaminari dneki//????!?!??!?

You: yeah sure, kaminari dneki 🤨

Unknown Number: shUT UP

Unknown Number: hold on

Unknown Number: you can block me after this if you want

You: why would i do that when i can just block u rn?

Unknown Number: WAIT PLS

Unknown Number: [selfie.jpg]

______________________________________________________________

You frown and squint at the attached photo. Surely enough, it’s Kaminari Denki. He holds a peace sign up to the camera and there’s an easy smile on his face. You’re still not convinced, however. The picture could easily be an older one. This is clearly just a fan trying to mess with you.

You’re almost about to shut your phone off when a glimmer in the picture catches your eye. You zoom in, only to find Kaminari holding the award that he just won a few hours ago. You blink, convinced you’re seeing things. When you look at the photo again, you realize that he’s wearing the white suit from earlier. You’re still a bit unconvinced, so you zoom in on the clock conveniently located in the corner of the shot. 20:35. You glance down at your watch and a shiver rolls down your spine. Sure enough, the time is the same. It appears this is actually Kaminari Denki.

Fuck.

____

chapter 2

#bnha #bnha x male reader #kaminari x male reader #male reader #masc reader #Kaminari Denki x male reader #mha x male reader

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