Lifestyle
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
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.

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.
Zhao says she believes in ceremonies and rituals, and makes them a part of her filmmaking process.
Bethany Mollenkof for NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Bethany Mollenkof for NPR
Then Zhao and I sat down to talk.
“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.”
“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.
Bethany Mollenkof for NPR
hide caption
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.
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.

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.
Bethany Mollenkof for NPR
hide caption
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.
“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.’”
I closed our interview ceremony with that moment of silence, a moment of peace, for director Chloé Zhao.
Lifestyle
They were world-class tennis rivals. Now friends, they’ve teamed up against cancer
Once rivals on the tennis court, Martina Navratilova, left, and Chris Evert have become close friends in retirement. They are pictured above at the French Open in 1986.
Trevor Jones/Getty Images Europe
hide caption
toggle caption
Trevor Jones/Getty Images Europe
Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova were the most successful women’s tennis champions of their generation. Both were 18-time Grand Slam tournament winners — and each other’s greatest rivals.
Evert, a Florida native, became a tennis star in her teens. Navratilova was born in communist Czechoslovakia, and emerged as a player after Evert was established. They first faced off during a match in Akron, Ohio, in 1973, when Evert was 18, and Navratilova was 16. Evert won, but Navratilova left an impression.
“I remember thinking to myself, holy cow, when this young girl gets into better shape, she is going to be a force to be reckoned with,” Evert says. “She had so much talent. Her hands were quick, she had a big first serve, she had a big forehand, and she just was so powerful.”

Two years later, on the day she lost a semifinals match to Evert at the U.S. Open, Navratilova defected to the U.S. In the years that followed, her tennis game improved. Though she and Evert had initially been friendly, the friendship cooled as their rivalry heated up.
“Playing Chris was difficult because how can you not like Chris? What’s not to admire?” Navratilova says. “She was like the epitome of cool.”
The new Netflix documentary Chris & Martina: The Final Set tells the story of how Evert and Navratilova re-established their friendship and how they both faced cancer in retirement. Evert was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2021; Navratilova was diagnosed with throat and breast cancer in 2022.
“I can’t get away from her,” Evert jokes. “We had a 15-year career, and then we got cancer at the same time. It really is freaky, but I always say: If I want someone to be in the trenches with me, it’s Martina because she has been so supportive and so understanding.”

Navratilova agrees: “We have such a level of trust that we know whatever we say to each other, it stays there. We give each other the best advice we know how to. And there is no ulterior motive, no playing games.”
At the time that this interview was taped, Evert and Navratilova were both in remission from cancer. But late last week, Evert disclosed she’d recently been diagnosed with a recurrence of ovarian cancer.
“We know whatever we say to each other, it stays there,” Martina Navratilova says of her friendship with Chris Evert.
Netflix
hide caption
toggle caption
Netflix
Interview highlights
On supporting each other through cancer
Evert: There are a lot of phone calls between us. … I don’t cook, but Martina would bake bread for me, and her wife Julia would cook, make some chicken soup. … I got a lot of food from Martina. She got a necklace from me.
Navratilova: I get jewelry from Chris, she gets food from me.
Evert: Martina’s and my relationship — because we’ve had one for 50 years — is not the type where we have to talk to each other every day to maintain the closeness. I always knew she was there. She always knew I was there if we needed to talk, and that was that.
On the weakness they experienced with cancer
Navratilova: Chris’ diagnosis and treatment was much more life-threatening than mine, percentage wise, but my treatment was more difficult physically. … I was in New York for seven weeks and I literally sat on a yoga mat, maybe half an hour of the seven weeks, and did some stretching. I couldn’t even do the down dog pose because I would have fallen down. I had absolutely zero strength left.
Evert: The chemo kicked my butt, let’s put it that way. … It left me very weak, very, very weak. After chemo I would have three or four days of intense nausea and I just would feel tingling in my body and it just wasn’t nice. I didn’t have the energy. To walk six blocks was a big deal for me. And it was foreign. You know, it felt like it wasn’t my body, for sure.
On watching the old footage of their matches together for the documentary
Navratilova: For me, it was fun watching with Chris, because we had different reactions to what happened on the court. But what impressed me is how well we played with those wooden rackets. Because you know what? Those rackets are not easy to play with. But you try to put yourself in there physically, what it was like, mentally, what it is like. And it’s like, “Oh, I should have gone down the line,” or, “I can’t believe I missed that shot.” Or “Chris, you had such a great pass.” It was amazing. So it was impressive. … I wish I could still have that six-pack, but anyhow.

Evert: I remember feeling genuinely happy for her. I remember it was her first Wimbledon. That’s always been her dream since she defected. Her family couldn’t be there to watch her. She was all alone. And I just was happy for it. And I knew that this was gonna be one of many for her to win.
On defecting to the U.S. in 1975 when she was 18 years old
Navratilova: I was thrilled to be in the States. I always loved American cars. And when you ordered a ham sandwich, you got, like, two inches of ham and two slices of bread. Whereas growing up, you had thick bread and one slice of ham. So I thought I was in heaven. And it was $2.30 for that sandwich. I still remember it. I couldn’t believe how much ham I was getting.
Lauren Krenzel and Nico Gonzalez Wisler produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz, Molly Seavy-Nesper and Beth Novey adapted it for the web.

Lifestyle
Inside Hearts On Fire’s Plan For a New Era of Diamond Jewellery
Lifestyle
3 World Cup rivals find ‘Common Ground’ in a cross-border beer
Headlands Brewing launched its World Cup-themed beer Common Ground ahead of the first World Cup game in June.
Justin Gellerson for NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Justin Gellerson for NPR
The British betting company William Hill predicts that soccer fans will throw back more than 5 million pints of beer in stadiums and fan zones during this year’s World Cup. And that number doesn’t even account for the millions of pints being poured in bars as fans tune in to the global soccer event.
But while international soccer crowds are focusing on goals and penalties, a trio of craft breweries from the tournament’s three host nations are using the tournament to brew something increasingly rare: cross-border solidarity.

A shared recipe with local spin
The collaboration began months ago over a flurry of video chats and emails. The beermakers at Rey Árbol Brewing Co. in Mexico, Headlands Brewing in the United States, and Cabin Brewing Co. in Canada set out to design a single, unified recipe representing the brewing traditions of all three nations.
“It’s a Mexican lager,” said Alejandro Gomez, founder of Rey Árbol.
“That’s like a West Coast IPA,” said Ryan Frank, chief operating officer and brewmaster for Headlands.
“And up in Canada, most of our beers are hop driven,” said Haydon Dewes, co-founder of Cabin. “So we thought, let’s go for a dry-hopped Mexican lager.”
While all three breweries share the exact same recipe, each is giving the final product a distinct local spin, including unique, regionally designed labels. A four-pack of the U.S version costs $15.99. Frank said Headlands has produced about 130 cases of the limited-run brew.
Headlands Brewing COO and brewmaster Ryan Frank drinks a Common Ground beer in Berkeley, Calif., on June 11.
Justin Gellerson for NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Justin Gellerson for NPR
For the brewers, however, the project is less about marketing and more about connection: They named the multinational beer “Common Ground.”
“When I go to California or Canada, they will treat me like family,” Gomez said.
“It makes the world feel so much smaller,” said Dewes.
“It’s about building bridges and knowing what’s important in life,” said Frank. “And for us, that’s soccer and beer.”
Geopolitical friction in the taproom
The official rhetoric surrounding World Cup 2026 mirrors the brewers’ optimism, with promotional materials promising a tournament where billions are “united as individuals, united as billions.”
Yet this idealistic messaging stands in sharp contrast to a prickly geopolitical reality. Tensions between the U.S., Mexico and Canada have mounted over trade tariffs and auto manufacturing standards as the three nations renegotiate long-standing trade agreements.
The independent brewers behind Common Ground are feeling that friction firsthand through the rising costs of aluminum cans and raw ingredients.
“There are 15% tariffs slapped on any European-grown hops, which are really critical to some of our core brands,” Frank said.
Headlands Brewing brewmaster Ryan Frank and CEO Austin Sharp share a Common Ground beer in Berkeley, Calif., ahead of the first World Cup game on June 11.
Justin Gellerson for NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Justin Gellerson for NPR
The political discord hasn’t just been confined to trade boards.
When signing an executive order to establish a White House Task Force for the World Cup in March 2025, President Trump suggested that cross-border hostilities might actually benefit the tournament. “Oh, I think it’s gonna make it more exciting,” the president said.
A bittersweet reminder
Tension on the soccer field is one thing; between nations, it’s another.
“It’s true that when it comes to the actual soccer, we’ve developed a very healthy, vibrant rivalry between the three countries,” said Andrés Martinez, the author of The Great Game: A Tale of Two Footballs and America’s Quest to Conquer Global Sport and co-director of Arizona State University’s Great Game Lab, which studies the intersection of sports, media and geopolitics. “But we’re also linked together in this very symbiotic relationship.”
Martinez said that when the U.S., Canada and Mexico initially launched their collaborative bid to host the World Cup back in 2017, the political climate was warmer.
“It was meant to showcase these tight bonds that had developed between the three countries,” Martinez said.
The makers of Common Ground used a shared recipe, but all created their own distinct packaging for the beer: Canada’s Cabin Brewing Co.; Mexico’s Rey Árbol Brewing Co.; the United States’ Headlands Brewing.
Cabin Brewing Company, Rey Árbol Brewing Company, Headlands Brewing
hide caption
toggle caption
Cabin Brewing Company, Rey Árbol Brewing Company, Headlands Brewing
But relations have soured since then, making cross-border business collaborations like Common Ground an anomaly rather than the norm for this tournament.
“To see craft beers across the three countries coming together like this, it’s a bittersweet reminder of what we were hoping to see a lot more of,” Martinez said.
Finding the real common ground
If trade wars and political posturing are looming large in Washington, D.C., Ottawa and Mexico City, they feel a world away at Headlands Brewing’s busy North Berkeley location.
As fans gathered to watch a crucial match between Mexico and South Africa at the start of the tournament, the sunny patio erupted into cheers and shrieks of “Goal!” when Mexico found the back of the net.
Headlands Brewing hosts a screening of the first World Cup game on June 11 in Berkeley, Calif.
Justin Gellerson for NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Justin Gellerson for NPR
Hovering over a pint of the collaborative brew, soccer fan Roberto Mandujano reflected on the cross-border experiment.
“Three different ways, three different taste buds come together to make something cool,” he said.
When asked about the underlying political tensions between the host nations, Mandujano shrugged off the discord.
“We live in a world where everyone wants to make everything political,” Mandujano said. “But I think we’re all here for soccer. So I guess that’s the common ground.”
-
Texas6 minutes agoTexas Lands Major Commitment From In-State DL
-
Utah9 minutes agoUtah firefighter fears job loss after answering wildfire call
-
Vermont14 minutes agoPolice searching for missing Troy woman
-
Virginia21 minutes agoVirginia to allow recreational marijuana to be sold in retail stores beginning in 2027
-
Washington24 minutes ago
Port Washington weekly vigils honor community members arrested by ICE
-
Wisconsin29 minutes ago3 dead after crash involving UTV, truck in western Wisconsin
-
West Virginia36 minutes agoJudge blocks West Virginia SNAP soda ban, restoring benefits for soft drinks
-
Wyoming39 minutes agoAt 6,000-year-old crossing, Gov. Gordon OKs Wyoming’s first-ever designated pronghorn migration route