Lifestyle

My best friend is 30 years my senior. Here's what she's taught me about life

Published

1 year ago

August 21, 2024

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My best friend is 30 years my senior. Here's what she's taught me about life

She was 63.

I was 33.

We shared cocktails at a rooftop bar overlooking Sunset Boulevard during golden hour. And the connection was palpable.

No, this isn’t the start to an “L.A. Affairs” romance column. But it is about a love affair of sorts. My best girlfriend of the last two decades is 30 years older than me.

I met Loraine in 2001. I was newly married and working as an associate arts editor at L.A. Weekly, where I was writing book reviews and covering the arts. A friend introduced us at a literary salon one evening. It was a brief business exchange. We were sitting on the floor of the now-shuttered French-Vietnamese restaurant Le Colonial, cross-legged on silk pillows awaiting the start of the readings. Loraine leaned over and gave me her card, mentioning she had just published a debut novel.

“It’s about marriage, adultery and regular church attendance,” she whispered, clearly pleased with her pithy elevator pitch. I stuffed the card in my purse.

A few weeks later Loraine convinced me to meet her for apple martinis at a rooftop restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. I had been hesitant to spend a free evening with a relative stranger who was a generation-plus older than I and with whom I assumed I had little in common. My friends at the time were all raucous creative types in their 20s and early 30s. Clichés raced through my head: Would she be stuffy or old-fashioned? Would we have anything to talk about? I’d have to watch my manners.

“I’ll be home within the hour,” I told my husband, determined to keep the meeting quick and cordial, a professional nicety.

But our conversation stretched on and on. I learned Loraine had grown up in a small town just north of New Orleans, one of the only Jewish families there at the time. She’d studied art in Paris during college — and she regaled me with stories of ill-fated romances she’d had there — before breaking into Hollywood as a TV writer in the 1970s. She penned what many consider the single most iconic TV show in pop culture history in 1980, the “Who Shot J.R.?” episode of “Dallas.”

“Then I made a pivotal mistake in my career,” she told me.

“What?!” I was rapt.

“I turned 50. That was it. Hollywood stopped calling,” she said, shrugging matter-of-factly. “So I turned to writing novels instead.”

“The Scandalous Summer of Sissy LeBlanc” would go on to become a national bestseller.

Loraine Despres Eastlake in 2021.

(Wendi Weger)

It was one of those mysterious, pivotal nights. Seemingly benign at the time, it proved to be life-changing in hindsight. Loraine’s resilience and joie de vivre was inspiring. I didn’t for a minute notice the age gap — and haven’t to this day.

Sure, Loraine has curly, silver hair and oversized glasses and, at 86, now walks a tad more gingerly than she used to. But I don’t see an older woman when I look at her; I see the essence of a person, timeless and ageless, housed in a corporeal shell (one that’s in pretty darn good shape, I should add). I see a teenage girl, still ever-curious about the world around her. I see a 20-something women, still evolving through new creative pursuits, most recently poetry writing. I see an accomplished power player in midlife at the peak of a highly successful TV writing career, self-satisfied and oozing with agency. I see a woman, late in life, struggling to unearth new pathways toward creative and intellectual relevance — and succeeding.

Suffice to say: My editor ended up passing on the book review, but Loraine got me instead.

As our friendship blossomed I learned that Loraine was all kinds of fabulous. She was part New York intellectual, part West Coast hippie, part Hollywood elite. Her closet was stuffed with expensive designer clothes, which she often passed over for unassuming yogawear. She drank Prosecco and swam naked in her cobalt-tiled pool. She once convinced me to spend the entire afternoon lying on our backs, in the dirt, beneath an old and glorious oak tree in Franklin Canyon Park, the sun glimmering through the leaves.

Two women wearing sunglasses and lying on their backs on the ground

She knew so much about art, an interest we bonded over and which would become a throughline of our friendship. When I began covering art for The Times, she became one of my go-to plus-ones for museum and gallery openings. We’ve taken that interest abroad too, touring art studios in Cuba, visiting museums in Vienna and, most recently, journeying to Japan’s art island, Naoshima.

I suppose this is where I relay how the three-decade age gap has provided illuminating pearls of wisdom during divorce, career changes and aging woes. But honestly? That’s not been the case. Loraine is there for me in an emergency, but she isn’t the motherly, advice-dispensing type.

Rather, Loraine teaches by example. She’s living proof that fabulousness is about attitude, not age. And that vitality has less to do with hip mobility than it does a sustaining lust for life and unrelenting curiosity about the world. I wonder: Had I not met Loraine, would I be aging, now, with as much ease and universality? Would I be more susceptible to the rigid and relentless stereotypes with which society brands women of a certain age? Loraine is, above all else, a writer. And the narrative she’s crafted for herself — a feminist art scholar turned advertising copywriter and single mother turned happily remarried TV writer turned novelist turned poet — bucks society’s expectations. I hope to continue writing it.

“Oh, it’s so nice you have a surrogate mother in L.A.,” my own mother would often say of Loraine when she visited from the East Coast. Loraine is older than my mom and the fact that I had a “kind of aunt-like person” living nearby brought her comfort.

Loraine would bite her lip whenever my mom said that; but afterward, we’d marvel at the mischaracterization of our friendship. Our conversations are devoid of motherly energy; instead they range from our romantic lives to clothes to books and contemporary art. Our recent Japan trip included several nights at a yurt camp by the sea (which we abandoned due to mold).

Last July Fourth we climbed atop an Echo Park hillside, took edibles and watched the fireworks melting across the sky.

“Really, where do you think we go when we die?” I asked in a haze.

“Beats me,” she said, chuckling. “Pass the nuts, will you?”

Then we burst out laughing.

The beginning of the 2020 pandemic was the first time I ever felt our age gap. Our experiences sheltering in place were very different. I was batch-cooking soup and binge-watching FX’s “Better Things,” relishing what felt like a rare solitude. Loraine became low-level depressed and, as the months of the pandemic turned to years, tinged with bitterness. It was a rare mood for the typically happy-go-lucky Loraine.

“It’s like being robbed of the last years you have left,” she’d say on the phone. “I’m withering here at home.”

Recently, Loraine’s taken to repeating herself, as is the case with almost anyone her age.

“So what are you up to this weekend?” she’ll ask me on the phone, minutes after I answered the question already.

I just politely repeat myself, resigned to a sort of linguistic meditation, learning to enjoy the same conversation threads over and over again.

When we broached the issue recently, she told me, sighing: “I suffer from CRS.”

I braced myself for what that meant.

“Can’t Remember Shit,” she said, laughing — one of her long, loose chuckles that trails off with a cheery whine, as if she were a flapper wielding a cigarette holder in the air, head tossed back in the wind. “It is what it is.”

I’ve found myself using that phrase a lot lately: It is what it is. Loraine may not overtly mentor me in life, but her open embrace of whatever life offers reminds me to be present, to live in the moment.

A woman stands with her arm around the shoulder of an older woman

Thinking about our friendship, I see a supercut of us: the time Loraine and I danced on a cafe rooftop in Cuba to live music; when we sailed through the air on trampolines on my 45th birthday with ’80s music playing over the loudspeaker; the New Year’s Eve we posed for selfies in wigs at a friend’s house; Loraine chasing a flying cockroach around our Miami hotel room as I squealed from atop the bed; her pure, unabashed joy when we rounded a corner in a Naoshima museum recently and she found a Cy Twombly work on display.

We were, in all those moments, 16 and 35 and 86. We meet somewhere in the middle, in the universal mind meld that is true friendship. And I’m grateful for every year of it.

Lifestyle

Washington National Opera leaves Kennedy Center, joining slew of artist exits

Published

5 hours ago

January 10, 2026

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Washington National Opera leaves Kennedy Center, joining slew of artist exits

A view of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, which the current board is calling the Trump Kennedy Center, in Washington, DC, on Dec. 26, 2025.

Brendan Smialowski / AFP via Getty Images

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Brendan Smialowski / AFP via Getty Images

The Washington National Opera is leaving the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, its home since 1971.

Friday’s news, shared with NPR in a statement via email from the opera company, comes in response to new policies which the 70-year-old performing arts group said strain its financial model.

The Washington National Opera stressed the “amicability” of its decision to end its longtime residency at the Kennedy Center. But it said the center’s new business model, which requires productions to be fully-funded in advance, is incompatible with the usual mix of ticket sales, grants and donations that cannot all be secured ahead.

“Opera companies typically cover only 30-60% of costs through ticket sales, with the remainder from grants and donations that cannot be secured years ahead when productions must be planned,” the statement said.

The company added the model also does not accommodate its artistic mission, which aims to balance popular works such as West Side Story, slated for May 2026, with more obscure and experimental operas, such as the little-known Scott Joplin work, Treemonisha, scheduled for March. “Revenue from major productions traditionally subsidizes smaller, innovative works,” the statement said.

Artistic director Francesca Zambello, who has led the company for 14 seasons, shared her regrets in a statement with NPR, while also looking to the future.

“I am deeply saddened to leave the Kennedy Center,” Zambello said. “In the coming years, as we explore new venues and new ways of performing, Washington National Opera remains committed to its mission and artistic vision. Our repertory will continue to include diverse offerings, from monumental classics to more contemporary works, presented in bold visual productions with first-class musical values.”

In addition to a continued presence for now on the Kennedy Center website, the opera company launched its new independent website within a few hours of its announcement.

“After careful consideration, we have made the difficult decision to part ways with the Washington National Opera due to a financially challenging relationship,” the Kennedy Center wrote in an email to NPR on Friday. “We believe this represents the best path forward for both organizations and enables us to make responsible choices that support the financial stability and long-term future of the Trump Kennedy Center.”

On social media, Kennedy Center executive director Richard Grenell said it was the center’s decision to sever ties with the opera company — and not the other way around.

“The Trump Kennedy Center has made the decision to end the EXCLUSIVE partnership with the Washington Opera so that we can have the flexibility and funds to bring in operas from around the world and across the U.S.” Grenell said. “Having an EXCLUSIVE relationship has been extremely expensive and limiting in choice and variety.”

Grenell reposted his message on Saturday after he was alerted that his X.com account had been hacked and the original message had been removed.

President Donald Trump was named chairman of the Kennedy Center’s board in February 2025. His name was added to the Kennedy Center in December following a vote by the Trump-appointed members of its board. Since the power of the venue’s board to rename the center is currently in dispute, NPR continues to refer to the Kennedy Center using its legal name.

A string of exits

The Washington National Opera’s departure is the latest and perhaps most significant in a string of artist exits from the cultural institution since Trump took over the institution.

Backlash from ticket-buyers, slated performers, and certain board members—including Shonda Rhimes—was swift.

Artists are continuing to cancel performances. But one of the first to do so was a touring production of the musical Hamilton. In a statement on X in March 2025, producer Jeffrey Seller said he opposed the Trump administration’s ousting of many Democratic board members.

“The recent purge by the Trump Administration of both professional staff and performing arts events at or originally produced by the Kennedy Center flies in the face of everything this national center represents,” wrote Seller.

Actress and writer Issa Rae followed suit with a post on Instagram, cancelling her sold-out March performance.

A slew of additional artists and performance companies canceled after the board’s vote to rename the center “The Donald J. Trump and The John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts.” Congress has not yet authorized the name change.

Grenell has responded to many cancellations on social media, condemning the artists. After Banjo player Béla Fleck canceled his performance because he said the center had become “political,” Grenell wrote on X, “You just made it political and caved to the woke mob who wants you to perform for only Lefties.

“This mob pressuring you will never be happy until you only play for Democrats. The Trump Kennedy Center believes all people are welcome—Democrats and Republicans and people uninterested in politics. We want performers who aren’t political—who simply love entertaining everyone regardless of who they voted for.”

Find a running list of these cancellations below.

Sonia De Los Santos

On Jan. 8, singer-songwriter Sonia De Los Santos announced on Instagram that she was canceling her upcoming February concert at the Kennedy Center. “As an artist,” wrote De Los Santos, “I treasure the freedom to create and share my music, and for many years I have used this privilege to uplift the stories of immigrants in this country.”

De Los Santos, who was nominated for a Latin Grammy for best children’s album in 2018, stated that “I do not feel that the current climate at this beloved venue represents a welcoming space for myself, my band, or our audience.”

Béla Fleck performs onstage during the 67th Annual Grammy Awards Premiere Ceremony at Peacock Theater on Feb. 2, 2025 in Los Angeles.

Leon Bennett/Getty Images for The Recording Academy

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Leon Bennett/Getty Images for The Recording Academy

Béla Fleck

Performing at the Kennedy Center “has become charged and political, at an institution where the focus should be on the music,” wrote American banjo player Béla Fleck about his scheduled appearance with the National Symphony Orchestra in an official statement posted to Instagram on Jan. 7. “I have withdrawn from my upcoming performance with the NSO at The Kennedy Center,” he wrote. “I look forward to playing with the NSO another time in the future when we can together share and celebrate art.”

The 18-time Grammy winner has performed at the Kennedy Center in the past.

Stephen Schwartz

The composer and lyricist for the beloved musicals Wicked, Godspell and Pippin was expected to host a gala fundraiser for the Washington National Opera in May 2026. On Jan. 2, Schwartz announced his withdrawal. According to NBC News, Schwartz reflected that the Kennedy Center was “founded to be a political home for free artistic expression for artists of all nationalities and ideologies.” Today, he said, making an appearance “has now become an ideological statement.”

Richard Grenell quickly responded to Schwartz’s withdrawal, calling it a “bogus” report in a statement posted on X and saying reporters were plagiarizing a “fake @RollingStone story.” Schwartz was “never signed,” Grenell wrote.

Reports from NBC and other outlets, including Variety, have refuted this claim, publishing screenshots showing that Schwartz was promoted on the Kennedy Center’s website prior to his cancellation.

Stephen Schwartz attends the 2025 Songwriters Hall Of Fame Induction Ceremony at Marriott Marquis Times Square on Jun. 12, 2025 in New York City.

Theo Wargo/Getty Images for Songwriters Hall Of Fame

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Theo Wargo/Getty Images for Songwriters Hall Of Fame

The Cookers

The seven-piece band of veteran jazz musicians announced shortly before Dec. 31 that they would not perform at the Kennedy Center for “A Jazz New Year’s Eve:”

“We know this news is disappointing,” reads the statement on their website. “We are not turning away from our audience, and do want to make sure that when we do return to the bandstand, the room is able to celebrate the full presence of the music and everyone in it. Our hope is that this moment will leave space for reflection, not resentment.”

The statement went on to say, “We remain committed to playing music that reaches across divisions rather than deepening them.”

Chuck Redd

The American jazz drummer and longtime host of the Kennedy Center’s annual Christmas Jazz Jam chose to cancel his 2025 appearance when he “saw the name change on the Kennedy Center website and then hours later on the building,” according to a statement sent to the Associated Press.

On Dec. 27, the Kennedy Center announced its plan to file a $1 million lawsuit against Redd. “Any artist canceling their show at the Trump Kennedy Center over political differences isn’t courageous or principled—they are selfish, intolerant, and have failed to meet the basic duty of a public artist: to perform for all people,” said Kennedy Center spokesperson Roma Daravi.

In a letter shared with NPR, Richard Grenell condemned Redd: “Regrettably, your action surrenders to the sad bullying tactics employed by certain elements on the left, who have sought to intimidate artists into boycotting performances at our national cultural center.”

Doug Varone and Dancers

“The renaming for me has kind of pushed me off a cliff,” said choreographer Doug Varone on Dec. 31, when he spoke with NPR’s Morning Edition. Varone, who was set to showcase members of his Doug Varone and Dancers company at the Kennedy Center in April 2026, pulled the performance.

John F. Kennedy, for whom the Kennedy Center was established as a living memorial, “believed in the arts as kind of the beating heart of our nation,” said Varone.

“I believe that the level of artistry has dropped drastically since the administration change, and the employees that were responsible for the quality of the work at the center have all been let go.”

After canceling, the company started a crowdfunding campaign to help offset its financial loss. It raised over $42,000, exceeding its $40,000 goal.

Magpie

In a statement posted to Facebook on Jan. 5, Greg Artzner of the American folk duo Magpie announced the decision to pull their Feb. 28 concert, set to play on the Kennedy Center’s Millennium Stage.

“There isn’t really anything defensible” about Trump, said the statement from Artzner and Magpie’s Terry Leonino. Although they had planned an evening of songs with messages of unity and hope, “We are personally and philosophically in agreement with the belief underlying the growing boycott,” they said. “The stand being taken by fellow artists we respect and admire has created a moral picket line. We stand with them in solidarity.”

An update on Jan. 9 said that Magpie would now be performing a longer version of that concert on Feb. 21 at Seekers Church in Washington, D.C., now called, “The Traveling John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts Restoration Roadshow.”

Kristy Lee

Folk singer Kristy Lee canceled her Jan. 14 Kennedy Center performance due to “recent efforts to impose political branding on the Center,” according to a statement posted on her website.

“Public arts spaces should be free from political influence,” Lee said in her statement. “I step back out of respect for artistic freedom and the Kennedy Center’s founding mission, not in opposition to its staff, artists, or audience.”

On Jan. 14, Lee plans to host a live-streamed concert instead, titled “Showing Up: From the Kennedy Center to the Couch.”

Low Cut Connie

Philadelphia rock and roll band Low Cut Connie pulled their concert, set for February 2025, “Upon learning that this institution that has run non-partisan for 54 years is now chaired by President Trump himself and his regime,” according to a statement posted on their Facebook page.

“Maybe my career will suffer from this decision,” wrote band frontman Adam Weiner, “but my soul will be the better for it.”

Rhiannon Giddens

In Feb. 2025, folk singer Rhiannon Giddens announced her departure from the Kennedy Center lineup in a social media statement. “I cannot in good conscience play at The Kennedy with the recent programming changes forced on the institution by this new board,” wrote Giddens.

Giddens transferred her May 11 concert, “Old-Time Revue,” to The Anthem concert hall, also in Washington, D.C.

Balún

The Puerto Rican band, based in Brooklyn in New York City, canceled their Kennedy Center performance, which had been set for Feb. 27, 2025.

According to a statement posted to Balún’s Instagram account, “recent events made it clear that the space no longer aligns with our values. Our safety, integrity, and commitment to justice come first.”

Issa Rae attends HBO’s final season premiere of “Insecure” at Kenneth Hahn Park on Oct. 21, 2021 in Los Angeles, California.

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Issa Rae

Shonda Rhimes attends the premiere of "Wicked" at the Museum of Modern Art on Thursday, Nov. 14, 2024, in New York.

“Thank you so much for selling out the Kennedy Center for ‘An Evening With [Me],’” wrote Issa Rae, the acclaimed star and creator of HBO’s Insecure, on her Instagram stories page in Feb. 2025. “Unfortunately, due to what I believe to be an infringement on the values of an institution that has faithfully celebrated artists of all backgrounds through all mediums, I’ve decided to cancel my appearance at this venue.”

“Hamilton”

In March 2025, Hamilton producer Jeffrey Seller announced on X that the Tony-award winning musical phenomenon would no longer run as scheduled at the Kennedy Center. According to the statement, the decision was made both for political and for business reasons. Not only was there “a new spirit of partisanship,” the statement read in part, but “it would be “financially and personally devastating to the employees of Hamilton if the new leadership of the Kennedy Center suddenly canceled or re-negotiated our engagement. The actions of the new Chairman of the Board in recent weeks demonstrate that contracts and previous agreements simply cannot be trusted.”

The Kennedy Center was swift to respond to Hamilton‘s cancellation. On X in a now-deleted post, Richard Grenell accused Hamilton star and creator Lin Manuel-Miranda of being “intolerant of people who don’t agree with him politically,” and stated that the decision was “a publicity stunt that will backfire.”

In the months since the show’s cancellation at the Center, Hamilton has continued to sell out theaters on Broadway and in venues nationwide who host its North American touring company.

U.S. Marine Band

The U.S. Marine Band announced in February 2025 that the Marine Band would not perform in the Equity Arc Wind Symphony event, a collaboration between Marine Band members and selected high school musicians.

The U.S. Marine Band, known also as “The President’s Own” was founded by an Act of Congress in 1798, making it the country’s oldest professional music organization.

Composer Kevin Charoensri, whose music had been scheduled to be performed by the band at the event, stated in a Facebook post that Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) orders resulted in the cancellation of the Equity Arc concert:

“It has come to my attention that the program, one based on equity and diversity of voices, is no longer supported at the federal level under this administration,” Charoensri wrote. “It was for this reason that the program and performance were canceled.”

The U.S. Marine marching band performs in the 120th Tournament of Roses Parade January 1, 2009 in Pasadena, California.

Alberto E. Rodriguez/Getty Images

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Jennifer Vanasco edited this story.

Lifestyle

Take a winter hike with the Los Angeles Times and Zócalo Public Square

Published

6 hours ago

January 10, 2026

Press Room

Take a winter hike with the Los Angeles Times and Zócalo Public Square

Happy new year! I’m Jaclyn Cosgrove, an outdoors reporter at the L.A. Times.

The deluge of rain and snow has paused, and the sun is out in Los Angeles. It’s a beautiful time for a winter hike in L.A. County.

I’d love for you to join me and Times wellness writer Deborah Vankin, alongside our friends at Zócalo Public Square, at 9 a.m. Jan. 31 as we hike through Placerita Canyon Natural Area, an east-west canyon east of Santa Clarita with lush oak woodland, chaparral and a seasonal creek.

We will start our trek with a gentle stroll to the Oak of the Golden Dream, where the first authenticated gold discovery by colonizers took place in California in 1842.

Then Vankin and I will lead 40 hikers along Canyon Trail, which will be 3.6 miles round trip. The hike includes an area where natural “white oil” bubbles up from the earth, which locals reportedly used to collect to fill their Ford Model T fuel tanks.

Parking is free and easy. We will meet in front of the Placerita Canyon Nature Center (19152 Placerita Canyon Road in Newhall).

We will have water bottles and snacks for attendees, but you’re also welcome to bring your own. You must be 18 or older and will be required to sign a waiver prior to attending. (Please consider arriving 15 minutes early to leave time for waiver signing.)

Grab a spot on Tixr.

Note: The hike will be rescheduled if rain is in the forecast.

A winter hike with the Los Angeles Times and Zócalo Public Square

Lifestyle

In ‘No Other Choice,’ a loyal worker gets the ax — and starts chopping

Published

17 hours ago

January 10, 2026

Press Room

In ‘No Other Choice,’ a loyal worker gets the ax — and starts chopping

Lee Byung-hun stars in No Other Choice.

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In an old Kids in the Hall comedy sketch called “Crazy Love,” two bros throatily proclaim their “love of all women” and declare their incredulity that anyone could possibly take issue with it:

Bro 1: It is in our very makeup; we cannot change who we are!

Bro 2: No! To change would mean … (beat) … to make an effort.

I thought about that particular exchange a lot, watching Park Chan-wook’s latest movie, a niftily nasty piece of work called No Other Choice. The film isn’t about the toxic lecherousness of boy-men, the way that KITH sketch is. But it is very much about men, and that last bit: the annoyed astonishment of learning that you’re expected to change something about yourself that you consider essential, and the extreme lengths you’ll go to avoid doing that hard work.

Many critics have noted No Other Choice‘s satirical, up-the-minute universality, given that it involves a faceless company screwing over a hardworking, loyal employee. As the film opens, Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) has been working at a paper factory for 25 years; he’s got the perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect family — you see where this is going, right? (If you don’t, even after the end of the first scene, when Man-su calls his family over for a group hug while sighing, “I’ve got it all,” then I envy your blithe disinterest in how movies work. Never change, you beautiful blissful Pollyanna, you.)

He gets canned, and can’t seem to find another job in his beloved paper industry, despite going on a series of dehumanizing interviews. His resourceful wife Miri (Son Ye-jin) proves a hell of a lot more adaptable than he does, making practical changes to the family’s expenses to weather Man-su’s situation. But when foreclosure threatens, he resolves to eliminate the other candidates (Lee Sung-min, Cha Seung-won) for the job he wants at another paper factory — and, while he’s at it, maybe even the jerk (Park Hee-soon) to whom he’d be reporting.

So yes, No Other Choice is a scathing spoof of corporate culture. But the director’s true satirical eye is trained on the interpersonal — specifically the intractability of the male ego.

Again and again, the women in the film (both Son Ye-jin as Miri and the hilarious Yeom Hye-ran, who plays the wife of one of Man-su’s potential victims) entreat their husbands to think about doing something, anything else with their lives. But these men have come to equate their years of service with a pot-committed core identity as men and breadwinners; they cling to their old lives and seek only to claw their way back into them. Man-su, for example, unthinkingly channels the energy that he could devote to personal and professional growth into planning and executing a series of ludicrously sloppy murders.

It’s all satisfyingly pulpy stuff, loaded with showy, cinematic homages to old-school suspense cinematography and editing — cross-fades, reverse-angles and jump cuts that are deliberately and unapologetically Hitchcockian. That deliberateness turns out to be reassuring and crowd-pleasing; if you’re tired of tidy visual austerity, of films that look like TV, the lushness on display here will have you leaning back in your seat thinking, “This right here is cinema, goddammit.”

Narratively, the film is loaded with winking jokes and callbacks that reward repeat viewing. Count the number of times that various characters attempt to dodge personal responsibility by sprinkling the movie’s title into their dialogue. Wonder why one character invokes the peculiar image of a madwoman screaming in the woods and then, only a few scenes later, finds herself chasing someone through the woods, screaming. Marvel at Man-su’s family home, a beautifully ugly blend of traditional French-style architecture with lumpy Brutalist touches like exposed concrete balconies jutting out from every wall.

Murder is lost in translation in 'Decision to Leave'

There’s a lot that’s charming about No Other Choice, which might seem an odd thing to note about such a blistering anti-capitalist screed. But the director is careful to remind us at all turns where the responsibility truly lies; say what you will about systemic economic pressure, the blood stays resolutely on Man-su’s hands (and face, and shirt, and pants, and shoes). The film repeatedly offers him the ability to opt out of the system, to abandon his resolve that he must return to the life he once knew, exactly as he knew it.

Man-su could do that, but he won’t, because to change would mean to make an effort — and ultimately men would rather embark upon a bloody murder spree than go to therapy.