Entertainment
'Elizabeth Taylor: The Lost Tapes' reveals an intimate portrait of an iconic Hollywood star
Why do I find Elizabeth Taylor so fascinating? My admiration for her work comes down, perhaps unusually, to the Zeffirelli-Shakespeare “The Taming of the Shrew” and the Nichols-Albee “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,” two films in which she starred with then-husband Richard Burton. And I must have seen her in some of the “Father of the Bride” films — the original ones, with Spencer Tracy, not Steve Martin — when they came on television, because I’d watch nearly every comedy that came on television. But the adult dramas she made, like “Butterfield 8,” “Raintree County” and “A Place in the Sun,” were not so much my cup of tea then, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her breakout roles as a kid actor in “Lassie Come Home” and “National Velvet.”
And yet, like any American alive in the latter half of the 20th century, I was conscious of her much-photographed face, her blanket presence in the press, which ranged from respectable and respectful to tabloid and salacious. There were her many marriages — twice to Burton, most famously — her fabulous jewels, the hugeness of “Cleopatra,” the first film for which an actor was paid a million dollars, and whose cost overruns and commercial failure nearly bankrupted the studio. Andy Warhol painted her even before he got around to Marilyn Monroe. Later, there were commercials for her fragrance line and pioneering philanthropy in AIDS research.
Elizabeth Taylor as a child.
(The Elizabeth Taylor Estate / HBO)
And so we come to “Elizabeth Taylor: The Lost Tapes,” an elegant little documentary by Nanette Burstein (“Hillary,” “The Kid Stays in the Picture”). Premiering Saturday at 8 p.m. on HBO and streaming on Max, it takes off from 40 hours of “newly discovered” interviews taped beginning in 1964 by journalist Richard Meryman for a potential book. Taylor was only 32, but had already been making movies for 22 years, and a star for 20. It’s her voice that drives the narrative, abetted in a small but significant way by those of close friends and associates, including Roddy McDowall, her “Lassie Come Home” co-star and lifelong confidant, and Debbie Reynolds, who became a less close friend after her husband, Eddie Fisher, suddenly became Taylor’s. A wealth of archival film and newsreel footage, home movies and snapshots — and, for context, new footage of tape recorders, ash trays and martini glasses — provide marvelous illustration of Taylor’s work and world.
There is, of course, our abiding interest in the private lives of public personalities — not necessarily the dirty laundry, though careers have been founded on digging it up and publishing it, but in getting a sense of the ordinary life of an extraordinary talent, of finding the human being in figures — I think I can use the word “iconic” here — who seem beyond knowing. Taylor’s early public persona was crafted by studio publicists, who sent her on sham dates simply to make her look like an ordinary teenager, but she was also one of the first celebrities for whom that narrative escaped control. Taylor was labeled a “homewrecker” after “stealing” Fisher from Reynolds — she married him, she says, because she could talk to him about his best friend, her late husband Mike Todd, who was killed in an air crash. But it was when she began an affair with Burton, while they were making “Cleopatra,” that paparazzi culture went into high gear.
Nowadays, under the scrutiny of 10,000 cellphones and the constant pressure to self-promote, celebrities are more likely to display a little dirty laundry themselves, to let you into their homes or sit for “revealing” interviews with interviewers whose celebrity equals their own. But they are revealing only within limits. Because these conversations were taped as deep background over many hours, and not an hour or two of talk to be immediately funneled into a magazine article, there’s a certain expansive, fly-on-the-wall informality to them, especially when McDowall is in the room and participating. One would like to have had something of this sort from Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe.
Richard Burton with Elizabeth Taylor. They married and divorced twice.
(The Elizabeth Taylor Estate/HBO)
What is a revelation, watching thematically selected clips from her films — a small sampling of a filmography where the word “substantial” hardly does justice — is just how good an actor, and a reactor, she was. There is Burton’s remark — oft-repeated, by Burton — that when he first acted with her on set he thought she was no good, but when he saw the dailies he was amazed, and it’s true that she is wonderfully, intensely alive on film. If you’re not paying attention, it can be hard to see, through the capital-S Stardom and the distraction of her features — “It was truly like an eclipse of the sun — it blotted out everybody that was in the office,” says MGM producer Sam Marx, for whom a single glimpse was enough to cast her, without testing, in “Lassie Come Home” and the irresistible temptation to play to her looks: “She’s 5 foot 5 and 110 pounds of 16-year-old glorious, cover girl beauty,” as one early promotional clip describes her. And many of her films, it must be said, did not rise to her talent.
That tension between the public and the personal, between the dreck and the art, is the spine of the film. Taylor hated being “a public utility. I didn’t like fame, I don’t like the sense of belonging to the public; I like being an actress or trying to be an actress.” At the same time, she could be insecure about her acting, especially when paired with Method actors (and good friends) like Montgomery Clift and James Dean. Of her own method, she says, “It’s not technique, it’s instinct.” And yet whatever she did, worked.
This is neither a complete accounting of the career, nor a prodding journalistic deep dive — though Taylor herself can dive pretty deep. (She likes a man who can dominate her, we learn; she would annoy Todd simply so she could lose the ensuing argument.) All narrators are, to be sure, at least somewhat unreliable, both as regards historical facts and inner states, and “The Lost Tapes” is of course limited by the fact that the tapes run out in Taylor’s early thirties; the rest of the story, highly compressed, is carried on by others. But all in all, Burstein’s film feels big and perceptive, a love letter to a remarkable, interesting and very human human.
The Invite is a remake of the Spanish film The People Upstairs, itself based on a play by the same director Cesc Gay. With all remakes, the question is: What’s this version bringing to the table. In this case, it’s a rock solid cast with great chemistry and some very snappy direction by Olivia Wilde.
Joe (Seth Rogen) and Angela (Olivia Wilde) are a dysfunctional couple with some noisily amorous upstairs neighbours. They invite Hawk (Edward Norton) and Piña (Penélope Cruz) to dinner and hijinks ensue.
There’s a lot to like about The Invite. Each member of the cast is funny in their own way. Rogen plays his usual schlub but his character is more nuanced than usual, with the rapid-fire jokes masking a deep frustration and melancholy. Wilde‘s Angela is a persnickety neurotic, but it’s not hard to see why. Cruz plays a sultry therapist who’s in permanent flirt mode but is also holding something back. Norton steals the show with a quietly hilarious performance as a retired firefighter who is all too eager to share his new age insights. The way each person interacts with the other results in a rollercoaster of cringe comedy, acerbic satire and genuine gut-busters. This is a film that relies entirely on performance and actually succeeds.
The story itself is a little masterpiece. Adapted from Gay’s original by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, the dialogue is quick, laden with not-very-subtextual motivations and always up to something. It’s very even-handed, and all the characters are sympathetic but flawed in amusing ways. Watching the increasingly desperate Joe and Angela bouncing off the Hawk and Piña is both funny and excruciating. Joe’s attraction to Piña is played fairly straight, but Angela’s attraction to Hawk becomes side-splitting as she pours out her soul to his Zen-calm ears and gets responses that make her even more attracted to him and by the end she’s practically hyperventilating.
The Invite does take something of a turn towards the end, although the film is in a state of continual twist throughout. This final shift throws the couples’ dysfunction into stark terms but doesn’t ruin anything. In the end, it moves from a somewhat misanthropic tone to a sincere and compassionate one. It skillfully makes you complicit in Joe and Angela’s spatting and then forces you to reconsider. The comedy is so intense throughout the film that when this happens it might lose some viewers, but it’s well-earned, true to the characters and it’s a very satisfying payoff.
The Invite is a small film that feels like a return to a better era in cinema. It’s a remake that is worth watching for its performances, and it’s very, very funny. It’s the sort of film that can be watched at home given its confined setting, but it generates enough laughs that seeing with an audience is a real pleasure.
Entertainment
Jesús Ortiz Paz and Jimmy Humilde took their legal dispute to Instagram. Here’s the breakdown
What started off as a trailblazing music partnership between música mexicana band Fuerza Regida and L.A. label Rancho Humilde has now fizzled into a sticky online drama.
On Saturday, Fuerza Regida frontman Jesús Ortiz Paz, better known as JOP, took to his personal Instagram account to post a statement addressing the band’s ongoing legal battle with the independent label led by music mogul Jimmy Humilde, who signed the band in 2018.
“To everyone who supports Fuerza Regida, you deserve to hear our music,” Ortiz Paz wrote in a public statement. “You deserve to see us perform at the World Cup. You deserve to listen to us on the MLB [Major League Baseball] album.”
This statement, which has since disappeared from JOP’s Instagram post, alleged that music created by the música mexicana group “keeps disappearing.”
Among the songs that have been taken down from streaming platforms by Rancho Humilde are “Triston,” “Todos nos Shipean” and “67,” according to the band’s publicist.
In September 2025, Rancho Humilde filed a lawsuit against Fuerza Regida, alleging breaches of contract for unilaterally collaborating with artists outside the label — such as Chino Pacas and Drake — and signing exclusive live performance deals with Apple Music and Live Nation.
Fuerza Regida countersued, alleging that Rancho Humilde withheld millions in royalties and attempted to “sabotage” the band’s success, including by neglecting to submit its music for consideration ahead of the 2024 Latin Grammys.
The case is still making its way through the courts.
“Everyone knows [what’s] going on[.] [You see] it [in the] media, [that’s] why I’m going to let justice do its job, everyone is going to know who you really are,” the post by JOP continued in both English and Spanish. “[He who has nothing to hide has nothing to fear], go let [Jimmy Humilde] & [Rancho Humilde] know how you feel, make your voice heard. Our story isn’t over I promise.”
Humilde responded to the artist in the comment section shortly after the post was made public.
“You asked me for a bigger [deal], I got it done. You asked me for your [masters], I fought to make it happen. You wanted to become one of the biggest artists in the [world], I have everything I had to help build that dream,” wrote Humilde.
“When you needed help, I didn’t just bring business. I brought my lawyers, my doctors, my relationships, my time, and my heart. I stood by you when it mattered the most,” Humilde continued. “You walked away with the biggest check of your [life,] over $50 million. I never complained. I was happy to see you win because your success was our success.”
“What hurts is seeing everything we’ve built together reduced to a public narrative that doesn’t tell the whole story. If you believe people deserve the truth, then honor the agreement we made. Complete the contract the same way I honored every commitment I made to you. I never stopped looking out for you. I only ask that you do the same. [He who has nothing to hide has nothing to fear].”
In a separate comment — which Humilde uploaded to his own Instagram account with Fuerza Regida’s own song “El Dinero Los Cambio” (which describes how money can change someone) — the label head pushed back on allegations of robbery: “I robbed you? Robbed you of what, fool. You didn’t even have a dollar for me to rob.”
The music mogul also accused JOP — who founded his own label Street Mob Records in 2018 — of sabotaging his own bandmates. “Let’s talk about [how] your own band members went from partners to being employees. They didn’t have much of a choice.”
“And let’s not forget I helped you land a $15 million deal for your label. After that, how you choose to take care of your artists is on you. [Let’s] ask Chinito [Pacas], Calle [24] and Armenta!!” added Humilde, including the names of artists signed to Street Mob Records.
JOP of Fuerza Regida performs at South By Southwest on March 13 in Austin, Texas.
(Cat Cardenas / For De Los)
In an email to De Los, Humilde’s lawyer, Mike Trauben, pushed back on claims that Rancho Humilde is trying to stop Fuerza Regida from making music and obtaining other opportunities.
They cite two recent deals that were approved by Rancho Humilde, including Fuerza Regida’s appearance on “Grand Theft Auto” and in the online video game “Fortnite,” which aligns with the contractual framework both parties had negotiated.
With regards to the proposed MLB and FIFA collaborations, Humilde’s council said that Fuerza Regida sought to prevent Rancho Humilde from exercising its claimed contractual rights, which was ultimately denied by a federal court.
The reason certain songs were removed from streaming platforms is because Fuerza Regida chose to release music outside the agreed Rancho/Sony distribution structure and without the approvals required under the parties’ agreements, per Humilde’s lawyers.
“Ultimately, this case is not about stopping an artist from succeeding,” wrote Trauben to The Times. “It is about whether sophisticated parties are required to honor the agreements they voluntarily negotiated after success had already arrived.”
According to Trauben, Rancho Humilde and Fuerza Regida, both parties entered a completely new agreement in 2022 that fundamentally restructured their entire business relationship, fully terminating the initial 2018 contract in place. As a result, Fuerza Regida received a flat million-dollar bonus, Rancho Humilde converted its ownership of existing masters into a 50/50 structure and the two entered into a new agreement, which Humilde’s lawyers claim favors Fuerza Regida.
“This case is not about whether artists should have rights. They absolutely should. Nor is it about preventing Fuerza Regida from making music,” wrote Trauben. “Rather, this case asks a much broader question that affects the entire music industry: Do contracts still matter after artist success arrives?”
The Times reached out to Fuerza Regida’s attorney but did not hear back as of this publication.
NEW YORK (OSV News) – At what is meant to be a poignant moment in the DC Comics adaptation “Supergirl” (Warner Bros.), the title character, played by Milly Alcock, is told by her mother (Emily Beecham) that she doesn’t have to be nice but she must be good. The recipient of this advice takes it to heart in a way that lends the whole film an unpleasant tone.
We’re not talking Deadpool depths of obscene snark here. Yet scrappy Supergirl, aka Kara Zor-El, in contrast to her affable cousin — and fellow Kryptonian — Superman (David Corenswet), does not come across as especially likeable.
Nor is she a figure to be imitated since, before she embarks on the quest to which most of the running time is devoted, early scenes show her waking up with a succession of staggering hangovers. She gets blotto, we later learn, in an effort to blot out her troubled past. The only positive ingredient in her current life is the bond she shares with her beloved dog, Krypto.
So when evil alien Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts) wounds Krypto with a poisoned dart, leaving him with only hours to live, Supergirl is desperate to help the pup survive. Learning that Krem carries the antidote with him wherever he goes, she sets off on an interplanetary hunt for the villain, racing against time.
Supergirl has already crossed paths with another of Krem’s victims, Ruthye (Eve Ridley). Having watched as Krem slaughtered her entire family, Ruthye is out for revenge and wants to join forces with Supergirl.
Since Ruthye, though courageous, is undersized and completely untrained for combat, Supergirl initially tries to ditch her. But Ruthye is not to be so easily rebuffed.
The unlikely duo eventually acquire an informal ally in the person of cigar-chomping, motorcycle-riding freelance warrior Lobo (Jason Momoa). Lobo has reasons of his own for hating the band of brigands Krem leads.
As scripted by Ana Nogueira, director Craig Gillespie’s scifi adventure includes more than one exchange in which Supergirl warns Ruthye about the morally corrupting effects of exacting vengeance. Yet this thoroughly respectable ethical message is completely undermined as the action reaches its climax.
“Supergirl” may not be a dose of Kryptonite. But it’s no energy-infusing sunbath either.
The film contains much harsh but bloodless violence, a scene of urination, a passing reference to nonscriptural religious ideas, a couple of mild oaths, several uses each of crude and crass language and an obscene gesture. The OSV News classification is A-III – adults. The Motion Picture Association rating is PG-13 — parents strongly cautioned. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.
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