Connect with us

Lifestyle

Kris Kristofferson, musical rebel and movie star, has died at age 88

Published

on

Kris Kristofferson, musical rebel and movie star, has died at age 88

Kris Kristofferson, photographed in 2002 in Los Angeles.

Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images


hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images

Kris Kristofferson, who wrote indelible songs about lovers, loners, boozers and a footloose pair of hitchhikers — and who later became a screen star, appearing in dozens of films — has died at age 88.

According to his representative, the singer, songwriter and actor died peacefully in his home in Maui, Hawaii, on Saturday, Sept. 28, surrounded by family. No cause of death was shared.

Kristofferson made his name as a songwriter in Nashville starting in the late 1960s, penning songs including “Me and Bobby McGee,” “Sunday Morning Coming Down” and “Help Me Make It Through the Night,” which other singers (Janis Joplin, Johnny Cash and Sammi Smith, respectively) took to the top of the charts.

Advertisement

His fame and sex symbol status grew through his movie roles, most notably when he co-starred with Barbra Streisand in the 1976 remake of A Star is Born.

“I imagined myself into a pretty full life,” Kristofferson told NPR’s Fresh Air in 1999. “I was certainly not equipped, by God, to be a football player, but I got to be one. And I got to be a Ranger, and a paratrooper, and a helicopter pilot, you know, and a boxer, and a lot of things that I don’t think I was built to do. I just imagined ’em.”

Kristofferson won three Grammy awards, two of them for duets with his then-wife Rita Coolidge, to whom he was married from 1973-80. His performance in A Star Is Born earned him a Golden Globe in 1976.

In 2004, Kristofferson was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, and in 2014, he was honored with a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award.

Early on, he found his calling as a writer

Kristofferson was born in Brownsville, Texas to a military family; his father was a major general in the U.S. Air Force. It was there, at age 11, that he wrote his first song, titled “I Hate Your Ugly Face.” (He included that number as a bonus track on one of his last albums, Closer to the Bone, in 2009.)

Advertisement

At Pomona College in southern California, Kristofferson majored in creative literature. His many diverse talents drew the attention of Sports Illustrated, which highlighted him as one of its “Faces in the Crowd” in 1954. “This dashing young man,” the magazine trumpeted, not only played rugby and varsity football and was a Golden Gloves boxer; he was also sports editor of the college paper, a folk singer, an award-winning writer and an “outstanding” ROTC cadet.

From Pomona, Kristofferson won a prestigious Rhodes Scholarship to study at Oxford University, where he dove into the works of Shakespeare and William Blake.

In a 1999 interview with NPR’s Morning Edition, he explained that Blake “was a wonderful example for somebody who wanted to be an artist, because he believed if you were cut out to be one, it was your moral responsibility to be one, or you’d be haunted throughout your life and after death — ’til eternity!”

Perhaps inspired by Blake’s admonition, Kristofferson harbored dreams of writing the Great American Novel. Instead, after Oxford he followed his father into the military, joining the U.S. Army, where he became a helicopter pilot and attained the rank of Captain. Assigned to teach literature at West Point, Kristofferson decided to ditch the Army, and he moved to Nashville to pursue his dream of songwriting.

For that choice, he was disowned by his parents. “They thought that somewhere between Oxford and the Army I had gone crazy,” Kristofferson told Pomona College Magazine in 2004. “My mother said nobody over 14 listens to that kind of stuff anyway…. But I was more and more determined to go that way. And being virtually disowned was kind of liberating for me, because I had nothing left to lose.”

Advertisement

From janitor to hit songwriter

Arriving in Nashville in 1965, Kristofferson got a job as a janitor at Columbia Studios, sweeping floors and emptying ashtrays, while writing songs on the side.

He often compared the creative ferment of Nashville in the ’60s to that of Paris in the ’20s. “When I got there,” he said in the 1999 Fresh Air interview, “it was so different from any life that I’d been in before; just hanging out with these people who stayed up for three or four days at a time, and nights, and were writing songs all the time.”

“I think I wrote four songs during the first week I was there,” he continued. “And it was just so exciting to me. It was like a lifeboat, you know? It was like my salvation.”

The story goes that Kristofferson was so desperate to get his songs into the hands of Johnny Cash that he landed a helicopter on Cash’s lawn. In the version Cash used to tell, Kristofferson emerged with a tape in one hand and a beer in the other.

“It’s a great story, and a story that good needs to be believed, even if it’s not true,” quips musician Rodney Crowell, who became Cash’s son-in-law when he married Rosanne Cash. “But, you know, according to John, that literally happened.”

Advertisement

Johnny Cash would turn out to be instrumental in launching Kristofferson’s career, introducing him at the 1969 Newport Folk Festival and inviting him to perform on his television variety show.

His songs were like short stories

Rodney Crowell was one of many young songwriters who were drawn to Nashville by the beacon of Kristofferson’s success. “Because of Kris Kristofferson, a lot of songwriters came into Nashville, came in droves. And I was part of that wave,” he tells NPR.

What set Kristofferson’s music apart, Crowell says, was the way he wove a story and sustained a narrative through his songs. Take “Sunday Morning Coming Down,” for example — a vivid portrait of bleak, hungover loneliness. Crowell calls the song “a beautifully-written short story.”

“Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so I had one more for dessert
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
And I shaved my face and combed my hair and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day”

In the world of Nashville songwriters, lyrics like this were a revelation. “Along comes Kris, a Rhodes Scholar with a high IQ and a very poetic sensibility,” Crowell says. “Kris brought it. He brought it in a big way.”

Musician Steve Earle recalls that when he first heard “Sunday Morning Coming Down” as a teenager in Texas, it made such an impact that he rushed out to buy Kristofferson’s first two records.

Advertisement

“The imagery and the use of language is just being cranked up to a level higher than really anything that came before in country music, for sure,” Earle says.

Kristofferson, he says, “raised the bar single-handedly in country music lyrically to a place that writers are still aspiring to, and I still aspire to, to this day.

He was a master of seduction, in song and on screen

For Nashville, Kristofferson’s 1970 song of naked, unapologetic desire, “Help Me Make It Through the Night,” was nothing short of revolutionary. “It was earth-shaking, and a paradigm shift,” Crowell says. “It is literally a form of seduction. It’s silver-tongue seduction.”

“Take the ribbon from your hair
Shake it loose and let it fall
Layin’ soft upon my skin
Like the shadows on the wall
Come and lay down by my side
‘Til the early morning light
All I’m takin’ is your time
Help me make it through the night”

“There’s a description of intimacy in it that probably had never existed before,” Earle says. “And of course, when other people, lesser songwriters, tried to do it, it became smut.”

In person and on the screen, Kristofferson was magnetic: movie-star gorgeous, with a roguish grin and electric blue eyes.

Advertisement

“Women loved him, you know? I mean, absolutely fell over,” Crowell says. “He was a sex symbol and a rock star.”

For a young, eager musician like Crowell, Kristofferson offered an intoxicating role model.

“It was like, ‘Hmm, I want to be like that,’” Crowell says. “I was like, ‘How do you do that? How do you have that kind of swagger?’”

Kristofferson brought that same sensual swagger to his movie roles over his decades-long career. He starred in films including Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, A Star Is Born, Semi-Tough, Heaven’s Gate and Lone Star, working with directors Sam Peckinpah, Martin Scorsese, Alan Rudolph and John Sayles, among others.

For a stretch in the 1980s and ’90s, Kristofferson was part of an occasional country outlaw supergroup, joining with Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson to form the Highwaymen. Recalling that time in an interview with the British magazine Classic Rock years later, he said, “I just wish I was more aware of how lucky I was to share a stage with those people. I had no idea that two of them [Cash and Jennings] would be done so soon. Hell, I was up there and I had all my heroes with me – these are guys whose ashtrays I used to clean. I’m kinda amazed I wasn’t more amazed.”

Advertisement

In the ’80s and ’90s, Kristofferson also embraced a number of leftist political causes. He protested nuclear testing in Nevada, and vocally opposed U.S. policy in Central America, making several trips to Nicaragua in support of the Sandinista government, and excoriating the U.S. backing of El Salvador’s military-led junta in that country’s brutal civil war. “I’m a songwriter,” he said in a 1988 Fresh Air interview, “but I’m also concerned with my fellow human beings. And I’m real concerned with the soul of my country.” His 1990 album, Third World Warrior, is filled with songs expressing his political views:

“Broken rules and dirty warriors spreading lies and secret funds
Can’t defeat the Campesino with their money and their guns
Cause he’s fighting for his future and his freedom and his sons
In the third world war”

Music connected him to memory

In his later years, Kristofferson suffered from profound memory loss, but he kept performing up until 2020. Among those he shared the stage with was Margo Price. “Without a doubt,” she says, “he still had all the same charisma and all the sex appeal, every time.”

On stage, Price says, Kristofferson could connect with his musical memories and “feel like he was himself…. There’s been times where I’ve got off stage with Kris and I’m like, ‘Great show, Kris!’ He’s like, ‘Oh, thanks. You know, I wish I could have been there!’ I mean, that was the powerful thing about seeing him perform his songs, was that he could remember songs he’d written so long ago, but yet not remember something from five minutes ago.”

In an interview with NPR in 2013, Kristofferson reflected on his life and career. At 76, he had just released an album titled Feeling Mortal.

“To my surprise,” he told Rachel Martin, “I feel nothing but gratitude for being this old, and still above ground, living with the people I love. I’ve had a life of all kinds of experiences, most of ’em good. I got eight kids and a wife that puts up with everything I do, and keeps me out of trouble.”

Advertisement

Kristofferson lived for many years on the island of Maui, in a home built high on the slope of the Haleakala volcano, with a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. He told an interviewer in 2015, “I’ve had so much blessing, so much reward for my life that I want to stay right where I am, which is on an island with no neighbors and 180 degrees of empty horizon. It’s a beautiful view.”

Lifestyle

A glimpse of Iran, through the eyes of its artists and journalists

Published

on

A glimpse of Iran, through the eyes of its artists and journalists

Understanding one of the world’s oldest civilizations can’t be achieved through a single film or book. But recent works of literature, journalism, music and film by Iranians are a powerful starting point. Clockwise from top left: The Seed of the Sacred Fig, For The Sun After Long Nights, Cutting Through Rocks, It Was Just an Accident, Martyr!, and Kayhan Kalhor.

NEON; Pantheon; Gandom Films Production; NEON; Vintage; Julia Gunther for NPR


hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

NEON; Pantheon; Gandom Films Production; NEON; Vintage; Julia Gunther for NPR

Few Americans have had the opportunity to visit or explore Iran, an ethnically diverse nation of over 90 million people which has been effectively shut off from the United States since the Iranian revolution of 1979. Now, with a U.S. and Israeli-led war on Iran underway, the ideas, feelings and opinions of Iranians may feel less accessible. However, some recent books, films and music made by artists and journalists in Iran and from the Iranian diaspora can help illuminate this ancient culture and its contemporary politics.

These suggestions are just a starting point, of course — with an emphasis on recent works made by Iranians themselves, rather than by outsiders looking in.

Books

For the Sun After Long Nights: The Story of Iran’s Women-Led Uprising, by Fatemeh Jamalpour and Nilo Tabrizy

Advertisement
For the Sun After Long Nights: The Story of Iran's Women-Led Uprising

There are quite a few excellent titles that deconstruct the history of Iran from ancient times through the rule of the Pahlavi Dynasty to the Iranian Revolution. But there are far fewer books that help us understand the Iran of 2026 and the people who live there now. One standout is the National Book Award-nominated For the Sun After Long Nights: The Story of Iran’s Women-Led Uprising by journalists Fatemeh Jamalpour and Nilo Tabrizy, which chronicles — almost in real time — the Woman, Life, Freedom movement that began in 2022, during which Jamalpour was working secretly as a journalist in Tehran. In 2024-25, Jamalpour (who is now living in exile in the U.S.) and I spent a year together at the University of Michigan’s Knight-Wallace fellowship for journalists; her insights into contemporary Iran are among the best.

Gold, by Rumi, translated by Haleh Liza Gafori

Gold

If Americans are familiar with Persian poetry at all, it may well be through popular “translations” of the 13th-century Sufi poet Jalaluddin Rumi done by the late American poet Coleman Barks, who neither read nor spoke the Persian language and detached the works of Molana (“our master”), as Iranians call him, of references to Islam. (Instead, Barks “interpreted” preexisting English translations.)

In 2022, Iranian-American poet, performance artist and singer Haleh Liza Gafori offered the first volume of a corrective, in the form of fresh Rumi translations that are at once accessible, deeply contemplative and immediate. A second volume, Water, followed last year.

Martyr!: A Novel, by Kaveh Akbar

Advertisement
Martyr!: A Novel

This 2024 debut novel by Kaveh Akbar, the poetry editor at The Nation, is an unflinching tour-de-force bursting with wit and insight into the complications of diaspora, the nature of identity in a post-War on Terror world and the inter-generational impact of the 1979 Revolution on Iranians. The protagonist, the Iran-born but American-raised Cyrus Shams, has struggled with addiction, depression and insomnia his whole life, and is trying his best to make sense of a world at the “intersection of Iranian-ness and Midwestern-ness.” As with so many other of the titles here, fiction and fact are woven together: the story centers around the true story of the U.S. downing an Iranian passenger plane in 1988 during the Iran-Iraq war.

The Stationery Shop: A Novel, by Marjan Kamali

81UXiF032lL._SL1500_.jpg

Marjan Kamali’s 2019 love story is the wistful tale of a young woman named Roya and an idealistic activist named Bahman, who meet cute in a Tehran store in the 1950s, but whose planned marriage falls apart due to turmoil both familial and political, as Iran’s democratically elected government falls in a U.S.-British lead coup that ends with the installation of the Shah. Roya flees to the U.S. for a fresh start, but the two reunite in 2013, wondering: what if life had spun out in a different direction?

Movies

Coup 53

This 2019 documentary directed by Iranian film maker Taghi Amirani and co-written by Walter Murch recounts Operation Ajax, in which the CIA and Britain’s MI6 engineered the removal of Mohammad Mossadegh, Iran’s democratically elected prime minister, and installed a friendly ruler, Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, in his place. (The Shah was ousted in the 1979 revolution.) As Fresh Air critic John Powers noted in his review, “What emerges first is the backstory of the coup, which like so much in the modern Middle East is predicated on oil. Shortly after the black gold was discovered in early 20th century Iran, a British oil company now known as BP locked up a sweetheart deal for its exploitation. Iran not only got a mere 16% of the oil money before British taxes, but the books were kept by the British — and the Iranians weren’t allowed to see them.”

Advertisement

YouTube

Cutting Through Rocks

Sara Khaki and Mohammadreza Eyni’s film Cutting Through Rocks is up for an Oscar this season after premiering at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. This inspiring documentary follows Sara Shahverdi — a divorced, childless motorcyclist — as she campaigns to become the first woman elected to the city council of her remote village, and who dreams of teaching girls to ride and to end child marriage.

Advertisement

YouTube

It Was Just an Accident

The latest film from acclaimed director Jafar Panahi — who has officially been banned from making films in Iran — is 2025’s It Was Just an Accident. Panahi, who has been jailed multiple times for his work and was recently sentenced again in absentia, has said in interviews that his inspiration for this brutal – and shockingly funny – thriller was people he met while in prison: an auto mechanic named Vahid finds himself face-to-face with the man who he is fairly certain was his torturer in jail, and eventually assembles other victims to try to confirm his suspicions. Fresh Air critic Justin Chang called It Was Just an Accident “a blast of pure anti-authoritarian rage.”

Advertisement

YouTube

The Seed of the Sacred Fig

This 2024 thriller — shot in secret by director Mohammad Rasoulof — centers on a family whose father, Iman, is appointed as an investigating judge in Tehran. But it soon becomes clear that his job has nothing to do with actually investigating. Iman, his wife, and two daughters come to suspect each other in our age of mass surveillance, as the city streets below erupt into the real-life Woman, Life, Freedom protests.

Advertisement

YouTube

Music

Kayhan Kalhor

One of the primary ambassadors of Persian classical music has been the composer and kamancheh (an Iranian bowed-instrument) virtuoso Kayhan Kalhor. Although music, like poetry, has been central to Iranian culture for centuries, all kinds of music were initially banned after the 1979 revolution. Since then, however, Iranian classical musicians have ridden many looping cycles of official condemnation, grudging tolerance, censorship and attempts at co-option by the regime.

Advertisement

Despite those difficulties, Kalhor has built a thriving career both inside Iran and abroad, including winning a Grammy Award as part of the Silkroad Ensemble and earning three nominations as a solo artist. Back in 2012, I invited him to our Tiny Desk to perform solo. “Didn’t know I could have goosebumps for 12 minutes straight,” a YouTube commenter recently wrote; I couldn’t put it any better.

YouTube

Saeid Shanbehzadeh

Advertisement

Among Iran’s 92 million people, about 40% of come from various ethnic minorities, including Azeris, Kurds and Armenians among many others. One of the most fascinating communities is the Afro-Iranians in the Iranian south, many of whose ancestors were brought to Iran as enslaved people from east Africa. Multi-instrumentalist and dancer Saeid Shanbehzadeh, who traces his ancestry to Zanzibar, celebrates that heritage with his band, and specializes in the Iranian bagpipe and percussion.

YouTube

The underground metal scene

Advertisement

Despite ongoing restrictions on music — including the continued ban on female singers performing in mixed-gender public settings — Iran is home to a thriving underground scene for metal and punk. Though it’s fictional, Farbod Ardebelli’s 2020 short drama Forbidden to See Us Scream in Tehran — which was secretly filmed in Tehran, with the director giving instructions remotely from the U.S. via WhatsApp — gives a flavor of that real-life scene and the dangers those artists face.

YouTube

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Lifestyle

Sen. Thom Tillis Rips Kristi Noem, Compares ICE Killings To Dog She Killed

Published

on

Sen. Thom Tillis Rips Kristi Noem, Compares ICE Killings To Dog She Killed

Sen. Tillis To Kristi Noem
ICE Killings Are Like Dog You Killed

Published

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Lifestyle

For filmmaker Chloé Zhao, creative life was never linear

Published

on

For filmmaker Chloé Zhao, creative life was never linear

In 2021, Zhao made history as the first woman of color to win the best director Oscar for her film Nomadland. Her Oscar-nominated drama Hamnet has made $70 million worldwide.

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR


hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR

It took a very special kind of spirit to make Hamnet, which is nominated for best picture at this year’s Academy Awards. Chloé Zhao brought her uniquely sensitive, mind-body approach to directing the fictionalized story about how William Shakespeare was inspired to write his masterpiece Hamlet.

Zhao adapted the screenplay from a novel by Maggie O’Farrell, and for directing the film, she’s now nominated for an Oscar. She could make history by becoming the first woman to win the best director award more than once.

Zhao says she believes in ceremonies and rituals, in setting an intention, a mood, a vibration for any event. Before Hamnet premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival last year, she led the audience in a guided meditation and a breathing exercise.

Advertisement

Zhao also likes to loosen up, like she did at a screening of Hamnet in Los Angeles last month, when she got the audience to get up and dance with her to a Rihanna song.

She, her cast and crew had regular dance parties during the production of Hamnet. So for our NPR photo shoot and interview at a Beverly Hills hotel, I invited her to share some music from her playlist. She chose a track she described as “drones and tones.”

Our photographer captured her in her filmy white gown, peeking contemplatively from behind the filmy white curtains of a balcony at the Waldorf Astoria.

Director Chloé Zhao at the Waldorf-Astoria in Beverly Hills.

Zhao says she believes in ceremonies and rituals, and makes them a part of her filmmaking process.

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR


hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR

Then Zhao and I sat down to talk.

Advertisement

“I had a dream that we were doing this interview,” I told her. “And it started with a photo shoot, and there was a glass globe –”

“No way!” she gasped.

It so happens that on the desk next to us, was a small glass globe — perhaps a paperweight.

I told her that in my dream, she was looking through the globe at some projected images. “We were having fun and it was like we didn’t want it to stop,” I said.

“Oh, well, me and the globe and the lights on the wall: they’re all part of you,” Zhao said. “They’re your inner crystal ball, your inner Chloé.”

Advertisement

“Inner Chloé?” I asked. “What is the inner Chloé like?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” she said. “Humbly, from my lineage and what I studied is that everything in a dream is a part of our own psyche.”

Dreams and symbols are very much a part of Zhao’s approach to filmmaking, which she describes as a magical and communal experience. She said it’s all part of her directing style.

Chloé Zhao used painting and dance to connect with actors on the set of her latest film Hamnet.

Chloé Zhao used painting and dance to connect with actors on the set of her latest film Hamnet.

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR


hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR

“If you’re captain of any ship, you are not just giving instructions; people are also looking to you energetically as well,” she explained. “Whether it’s calmness, it’s groundedness, it’s feeling safe: then everyone else is going to tune to you.” Zhao says it has taken many years to get to this awareness. Her own journey began 43 years ago in Beijing, where she was born. She moved to the U.S. as a teen, and studied film at New York University where Spike Lee was one of her teachers. She continued honing her craft at the Sundance Institute labs — along with her friend Ryan Coogler and other indie filmmakers.

Advertisement

Over the years, Zhao’s film catalogue has been eclectic — from her indie debut Songs My Brothers Taught Me, set on a Lakota Sioux reservation, to the big-budget Marvel superhero movie Eternals. She got her first best director Oscar in 2021 for the best picture winner Nomadland. Next up is a reboot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“A creative life,” she notes, “is not a linear experience for me.”

Zhao still lingers over the making of Hamnet, a very emotional story about the death of a child. During the production, Zhao says she used somatic and tantric exercises and rituals to open and close shooting days.

She also invited her lead actors Paul Mescal and Jessie Buckley to help her set the mood on set. They danced, they painted, they meditated together.

“She created an atmosphere where everybody who chose to step in to tell this story was there for a reason that was deeply within them,” actress Jessie Buckley told me.

Advertisement

Buckley is a leading contender for this year’s best actress Oscar. She said that to prepare for her very intense role as William Shakespeare’s wife, Zhao asked her to write down her dreams “as a kind of access point, to gently stir the waters of where I was feeling.”

Buckley sent Zhao her writings, and also music she felt was “a tone and texture of that essence.”

That kind of became the ritual of how they worked together, Buckley said. “And not just the cast were moving together, but the crew were and the camera was really creating dynamics and a collective unconscious.”

Filmmaker and Hamnet producer Steven Spielberg calls Zhao's empathy "her superpower."

Filmmaker and Hamnet producer Steven Spielberg calls Zhao’s empathy her superpower.

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR


hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Bethany Mollenkof for NPR

That was incredibly useful for creating Hamnet — a story about communal grief. Steven Spielberg, who co-produced the film, called Zhao’s empathy her superpower.

Advertisement

“In every glance, in every pause and every touch, in every tear, in every single moment of this film, every choice that Chloé made is evidence of her fearlessness,” Spielberg said when awarding Zhao a Directors Guild of America award. “In Hamnet, Chloé also shows us that there can be life after grief.”

Zhao says it took five years and a midlife crisis for her to develop the emotional tools she used to make Hamnet.

“I hope it could give people a two-hour little ceremony,” she told me. “And in the end, I hope that a point of contact can be made. That means that there’s a heart opening. But it will be painful, right? Because when your heart opens, you feel all the things you usually don’t feel. And then a catharsis can emerge.”

As our interview time came to a close, I told Zhao I have my own little ritual at the end of every interview; I record a few minutes of room tone, the ambient sound of the space we’re in. It’s for production purposes, to smooth out the audio.

Zhao knew just what I meant. She told me a story about her late friend Michael “Wolf” Snyder who was her sound recordist for Nomadland. “He said to me, ‘I don’t always need it, but just so you know, I am going to watch you. And when I tell that you are a little frazzled, I’m going to ask for a room tone … just to give you space.’” she recalled. “‘And if you feel like you need the silence space, you just look at me, nod. I’ll come ask for a room tone.’”

Advertisement

I closed our interview ceremony with that moment of silence, a moment of peace, for director Chloé Zhao.

Continue Reading

Trending