Connect with us

Entertainment

In the mystery 'Eric,' desperation and decline manifest into a life-size monster puppet

Published

on

In the mystery 'Eric,' desperation and decline manifest into a life-size monster puppet

The most idiosyncratic and striking moment on TV this summer? It could be Benedict Cumberbatch as a father running through the streets of New York in a giant, fuzzy blue monster puppet getup amid a desperate attempt to reconnect with his son.

It may sound like some sweet magical adventure, but that’s not the style of British screenwriter Abi Morgan, who created “Eric” for Netflix. She isn’t afraid to tackle big subjects and her body of work — including “Shame” (2011), which tackles sex addiction; “Suffragette” (2015), about women’s suffrage in the U.K.; and TV dramas “The Hour” and “The Split” — often leaves viewers emotionally strung out in its intense examination of human behavior, internal battles and broken systems. And “Eric” is just as visceral.

Set in 1980s New York City, the initial episode of the limited series finds Cumberbatch’s Vincent Anderson, a puppeteer and creator of a “Sesame Street”-esque children’s show “Good Day Sunshine,” exasperated by work demands and his floundering marriage to Cassie (Gaby Hoffmann). The couple’s troubles intensify when their 9-year old son, Edgar (Ivan Howe), goes missing on his walk to school. Torn up by guilt, Vincent is convinced if he turns his son’s drawing of a blue monster, Eric, into a life-size puppet on TV, Edgar will come home. And tasked with investigating the boy’s disappearance is Michael Ledroit (McKinley Belcher III), a Black and queer detective whose closeted identity becomes an obstacle at work as he pursues the case.

Eric, the life-size monster puppet, and Benedict Cumberbatch as Vincent.

(Netflix)

Advertisement

Morgan started with a simple idea: Can we live in a world where a kid can walk to school and come home safely? In exploring that question, the series weaves a lot of issues that plagued the city at the time: rising crime rates, a forgotten underclass, the AIDS epidemic, endemic racism, as well as government mismanagement and corruption.

“There were parallel themes that just became very apparent to me,” Morgan said during a press day with the cast in Los Angeles. “We’re looking at a world where the parents become children and the children become parents in some ways. And the notion of what is a family beyond the nuclear family of the Andersons? There’s a wider family of our city. Who looks after us in the city? Can we trust those parents — be that government, local council or our police force? And when those systems break down and expose themselves, where do we find our new boundaries of trust?”

A group of people posing for a photograph.

From left, clockwise: Series creator Abi Morgan, Benedict Cumberbatch, Gaby Hoffmann and McKinley Belcher III. Morgan said the show was partly inspired by her time in New York.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

Morgan sees the show as a way for audiences to ask themselves those questions through Vincent’s journey. And the city’s many issues presented in the series, inspired by Morgan’s time spent in New York in the ‘80s, added another dimension to the inciting mystery. “There was this dark underbelly. It hadn’t had that cleanup,” she said. “There was something very particular about the ‘80s — it was a melting pot and a point of change, a point of shifting sands, filled with fear and hope, and moments of great freedom and moments of really pushing down that freedom. It felt like a really rich fabric and tapestry in which to set ‘Eric.’”

With no shortage of real and existential horror lurking outside, Morgan knew from the beginning she wanted to bridge the story with a space that provided safety and comfort. Influenced by her own childhood spent backstage with her theater director father, observing how sets were created and the way costumes came to life, she saw “Good Day Sunshine” as a contrast to the city’s roughness and a way to dig deeper into how Vincent, who begins the series already on shaky ground before his mental health declines further, copes with his reality.

“He’s trying to re-create his childhood and idealizing something that was less than ideal,” Cumberbatch said. “His mental health crisis was brushed under the carpet with pharmaceuticals and very cold, cut-off, loveless parenting … he’s invested so much of himself in that show from a need that was never satisfied in his childhood.”

Morgan added that “Good Day Sunshine” is a world that Vincent can control, unlike his own, and that the puppets give life to his voices as he struggles with his mental health and alcoholism. It’s also a way to signal the value of pursuing a creative life, which stands in contrast to that of his estranged parents, particularly his father, a wealthy developer.

Puppets and puppeteers on the set of children's show.

The set of “Good Day Sunshine,” the “Sesame Street”-esque show in Netflix’s “Eric.”

(Ludovic Robert / Netflix)

Advertisement

”That creativity is a way to liberate, heal, manage and help understand ourselves,” Morgan said. “Vincent’s desire to create a world of good, is probably one of the healthier things he has done.”

As a show within the show, “Good Day Sunshine” features an assortment of puppet characters — a mix of animals, inanimate objects and people — including one operated and voiced by Vincent, putting Cumberbatch’s chameleon voice work into practice (his eclectic credits include the dragon Smaug in “The Hobbit” trilogy and the Grinch in the eponymous 2018 animated film). Before he goes missing, Edgar observes his father at work from the sidelines and, later, watches as Vincent becomes agitated with notes from network bosses, demanding that the show broaden its appeal to get viewership numbers up, with a new puppet as a possible solution. On the subway ride home, Edgar suggests his idea for the puppet, Eric, to little fanfare from his dad.

Morgan credits series director Lucy Forbes with being a key architect behind the 7-foot monster puppet, which took roughly four weeks to perfect. Eric is a manifestation and an amalgamation of details in Edgar’s mind — a tail that mimics his cat and fur that matches the chevron of his grandmother’s mink. Vincent becomes convinced that bringing Eric to life could help bring Edgar back, and as he begins to mold the puppet from foam, Vincent also begins to hallucinate Eric, a manifestation of his inner voice, into existence in his quest to find the boy.

Cumberbatch felt the exploration of the imagined other — a device done before, including in films like “Harvey” (1950) and “Ted” — in the larger context of the story was intriguing. And bringing depth to the surreal is familiar territory for the actor, who has done green screen and motion-capture acting and understands the commitment required to make it believable. Still, as Cumberbatch tells it, acting opposite puppeteer Olly Taylor in a plush, furry costume as his character Vincent was falling apart was a surprisingly grounded experience.

Advertisement

“I’d often do line runs with Olly, who’s a really brilliant actor and incredibly capable puppeteer,” he said. “I tried the [Eric] voice out, I’d often read lines and sometimes not; he just got it and the rhythm was the only way it could be for Eric in that moment. It was all about trying to remind ourselves what the purpose of Eric was in relation to [Vincent’s] state of mind. At one point, I tried on the [puppet] headgear and I cried. I just had this wave of empathy for Olly and the performance he had to give in that contraption. It’s a miraculous skill.”

A couple at a table with microphones looking at a crowd of reporters.

A scene from “Eric,” where Cassie (Gaby Hoffmann) and Vincent (Benedict Cumberbatch) hold a news conference to ask for the public’s help in finding their son, Edgar.

(Ludovic Robert / Netflix)

The puppet element helped soften some of the script elements for Hoffmann. As a mother of two children, the actor said she was initially hesitant about the heavy subject matter, but grew eager about its singular dynamic and the way the series explores the various breakdowns of systems, small and large. The series first captures the unraveling of a social institution — marriage — as Vincent and Cassie veer in opposite directions, and examines how their behavior negatively affects the parent-child dynamic.

“Vincent and Cassie are two very different people who are dealing with the world in two very different ways,” she said. “But I think that Cassie hasn’t been active in an honest way, on behalf of her son, for a while now — and on behalf of herself. I think that she knew that she needed to leave the marriage, and that it wasn’t a healthy environment for [Edgar]. As we come to find out, she has secrets and is in some denial. She’s not as deeply in it, and she’s not as avoidant and terrified of her emotions as Vincent is, or distracting herself with as many substances, but the disappearance… she definitely feels a sense of responsibility.”

Advertisement

When Morgan started to incorporate Ledroit into the story, she was determined not to make him a secondary character. She wanted Ledroit to go on his own journey, informed by his identity, and coming up against all the institutions — the precinct where he works or the gay nightclubs he used to visit — that are making him question his identity similar to Vincent. Playing a Black queer detective who is challenging the norm in the ‘80s, Belcher understood that sense of duty and purpose.

“In a story like this, it would be very easy for him to just turn into a cop that comes to work and deal with the information and solving the case. But it’s really exciting as a Black queer man, to show up with all the baggage that Ledroit would be carrying in the ‘80s, to wrestle with stuff, but to leave him in a place of action that is going to be the change.”

A man in a shirt and blazer stands in a nightclub.

Det. Michael Ledroit (McKinley Belcher III) is charged with finding Edgar.

(Ludovic Robert / Netflix)

Belcher also acknowledged that though the Black community isn’t a monolith, they have a complicated relationship with law enforcement. He sees his character as an instrument of change within the institution.

Advertisement

“I think over the course of the six episodes, that’s a place he lands on: Oh, this is what’s required for us to do what we’re really here for. And it means I must call out injustice; it means I must be intolerant of corner cutting; it means I have to own who I am and stand firmly in that and stand up as a man and say ‘no,‘” he said.

The various threads in the series take some time to come together, making for a premise that can take some finesse in distilling. But that’s what the team behind the series hopes sets it apart.

“You felt held by an imagination that contained worlds within the worlds of the story,” Cumberbatch said. “It felt fresh and new — trying to explain it to people was interesting. I’ve never really heard of anything quite like this before.”

It’s why all these months later, cozy on a sofa with Hoffmann, Cumberbatch can’t help but chuckle wistfully while recalling a moment in the series that had him, as Vincent, wearing the fuzzy Eric costume and running through the streets.

“Running and running and running and running,” Cumberbatch said. “It’s the knife-edge thing with this drama; it is very f— funny, but also weirdly heroic and desperately sad and poignant.”

Advertisement

Movie Reviews

‘Hoppers’ review: Who can argue with hilarious talking animals?

Published

on

‘Hoppers’ review: Who can argue with hilarious talking animals?

Just when you think Pixar’s petting-zoo cute new movie “Hoppers” is flagrantly ripping off James Cameron, the characters come clean.


movie review

HOPPERS

Advertisement

Running time: 105 minutes. Rated PG (action/peril, some scary images and mild language). In theaters March 6.

Advertisement

“You guys, this is like ‘Avatar’!,” squeals 19-year-old Mabel (Piper Curda), the studio’s rare college-age heroine. 

Shoots back her nutty professor, Dr. Fairfax (Kathy Kajimy): “This is nothing like ‘Avatar!’”

Sorry, Doc, it definitely is. And that’s fine. Placing the smart sci-fi story atop an animated family film feels right for Pixar, which has long fused the technological, the fantastical and the natural into a warm signature blend. Also, come on, “Avatar” is “Dances With Wolves” via “E.T.”

What separates “Hoppers” from the pack of recent Pix flix, which have been wholesome as a church bake sale, is its comic irreverence. 

Director Daniel Chong’s original movie is terribly funny, and often in an unfamiliar, warped way for the cerebral and mushy studio. For example, I’ve never witnessed so many speaking characters be killed off in a Pixar movie — and laughed heartily at their offings to boot.

What’s the parallel to Pandora? Mabel, a budding environmental activist, has stumbled on a secret laboratory where her kooky teachers can beam their minds into realistic robot animals in order to study them. They call the devices “hoppers.”  

In Pixar’s “Hoppers,” a teen girl discovers a secret device that can turn her into a talking beaver. AP

Bold and fiery Mabel — PETA, but palatable — sees an opportunity. 

The mayor of Beaverton, Jerry (Jon Hamm), plans to destroy her beloved local pond that’s teeming with wildlife to build an expressway. And the only thing stopping the egomaniacal pol — a more upbeat version of President Business from “The Lego Movie” — is the water’s critters, who have all mysteriously disappeared. 

So, Mabel avatars into beaver-bot, and sets off in search of the lost creatures to discover why they’ve left.

Advertisement

From there, the movie written by Jesse Andrews (“Luca”) toys with “Toy Story.” Here’s what mischief fuzzy mammals, birds, reptiles and insects get up to when humans aren’t snooping around. Dance aerobics, it turns out. 

Mabel (Piper Curda) meets King George (Bobby Moynihan). AP

Per the usual, “Hoppers” goes deep inside their intricate society. The beasts have a formal political system of antagonistic “Game of Thrones”-like royal houses. The most menacing are the Insect Queen (Meryl Streep — I’d call her a chameleon, but she’s playing a bug), a staunch monarch butterfly and her conniving caterpillar kid (Dave Franco). They’re scheming for power. 

Perfectly content with his station is Mabel’s new best furry friend King George (Bobby Moynihan), a gullible beaver who ascended to the throne unexpectedly. He happily enforces “pond rules,” such as, “When you gotta eat, eat.”   

That means predators have free rein to nosh on prey, and everybody’s cool with it. Because of bone-dry deliveries, like exhausted office drones, the four-legged cast members are hilarious as they go about their Animal Planet activities. 

Mayor Jerry (Jon Hamm) plans to destroy a local pond to build an expressway. AP

No surprise — talking lizards, sharks, bears, geese and frogs are the real stars here. They far outshine Mabel, even when she dons beaver attire. Much like a 19-year-old in a job interview, she doesn’t leave much of an impression. 

Advertisement

Yes, the teen has a heartfelt motivation: The embattled pond was her late grandma’s favorite place. Mabel promised her that she’d protect it. 

But in personality she doesn’t rank as one of Pixar’s most engaging leads, perhaps because she’s past voting age. Mabel is nestled in a nebulous phase between teenage rebellion and adulthood that’s pretty blasé, even if a touch of tension comes from her hiding her Homo sapien identity from her new diminutive pals. When animated, kids make better adventurers, plain and simple.

AP

“Hoppers” continues Pixar’s run of humble, charming originals (“Luca,” “Elio”) in between billion-dollar-grossing, idea-starved sequels (“Inside Out 2,” probably “Toy Story 5”). The Disney-owned studio’s days of irrepressible innovation and unmatched imagination are well behind it. No one’s awed by anything anymore. “Coco,” almost 10 years ago, was their last new property to wow on the scale of peak Pixar.

Look, the new movie is likable and has a brain, heart and ample laughs. That’s more than I can say for most family fare. “A Minecraft Movie” made me wanna hop right out of the theater.

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Entertainment

Ulysses Jenkins, Los Angeles artist and pioneer of Black experimental video, dies at 79

Published

on

Ulysses Jenkins, Los Angeles artist and pioneer of Black experimental video, dies at 79

Ulysses Jenkins, the pioneering Los Angeles-born video artist whose avant-garde compositions embodied Black experimentalism, has died. He was 79.

Jenkins’ death was confirmed by his alma mater Otis College, where he studied under renowned painter and printmaker Charles White in the late 1970s and returned as an instructor years later. The Los Angeles art and design school shared a statement from the Charles White Archive, which said, “Jenkins had a profound impact on contemporary art and media practices.”

“A trailblazing figure in Black experimental video, he was widely recognized for works that used image, sound, and cultural iconography to examine representation, race, gender, ritual, history, and power,” the statement said.

A self-proclaimed “griot,” Jenkins throughout his decades-spanning career maintained an art practice grounded in the tradition of those West African oral historians who came before him. Through archival documentaries like “The Nomadics” and surrealist murals like “1848: Bandaide,” he leveraged alternative media to challenge Eurocentric representations of Black Americans in popular culture.

Advertisement

He was both an artist and a storyteller who sought to “reassert the history and the culture,” he told The Times in 2022. That year, the Hammer Museum presented Jenkins’ first major retrospective, “Ulysses Jenkins: Without Your Interpretation.”

“Early video art was about the problems with the media that we are still having today: the notions of truth,” Jenkins said. “To that extent, early video art was a construct that was anti-media … a critical analysis of the media that we were viewing every night.”

Born in 1946 to Los Angeles transplants from the South, Jenkins was ambivalent about the city, which offered his parents some refuge from the blatant systemic racism they encountered in their hometowns, but housed an entertainment industry that had long perpetuated anti-Black sentiment.

“What Hollywood represents, especially in my work, is the classic plantation mentality,” Jenkins told The Times in 1986. “Although people aren’t necessarily enslaved by it, people enslave themselves to it because they’re told how fantastic it is to help manifest these illusions for a corporate sponsor.”

Jenkins, who participated in a group of artists committed to spontaneous action called Studio Z, was naturally drawn to video art over Hollywood filmmaking. “I can address any issue and I don’t have to wait for [the studios’] big OK. I thought this was a land of freedom, and video allows me that freedom and opportunity that I can create for myself and at least feel that part of being an American,” he said.

Advertisement

Jenkins went on to deconstruct Hollywood’s vision of the Black diaspora in experimental video compositions including “Mass of Images,” which incorporates clips from D.W. Griffith’s notoriously racist “The Birth of a Nation,” and “Two-Tone Transfer,” which depicts, in Jenkins’ words, a “dreamscape in which the dreamer awakens to a visitation of three minstrels who tell the story of the development of African American stereotypes in the American entertainment industry.”

Jenkins’ legacy is not only artistic but institutional, with the luminary having held teaching appointments at UCSD and UCI, where he co-founded the digital filmmaking minor with fellow Southern California-based artists Bruce Yonemoto and Bryan Jackson.

As artist and educator Suzanne Lacy penned in her social media tribute to Jenkins, which showed him speaking to students at REDCAT in L.A., “he has been an important part of our histories here in Southern California as video and performance artists evolved their practices.”

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Movie Reviews

Review | Hoppers: Pixar’s new animation is a hilarious, heartfelt animal Avatar

Published

on

Review | Hoppers: Pixar’s new animation is a hilarious, heartfelt animal Avatar

4/5 stars

Bounding into cinemas just in time for spring, the latest Pixar animation is a pleasingly charming tale of man vs nature, with a bit of crazy robot tech thrown in.

The star of Hoppers is Mabel Tanaka (voiced by Piper Curda), a young animal-lover leading a one-girl protest over a freeway being built through the tranquil countryside near her hometown of Beaverton.

Because the freeway is the pet project of the town’s popular mayor, Jerry (Jon Hamm), who is vying for re-election, Mabel’s protests fall on deaf ears.

Everything changes when she stumbles upon top-secret research by her biology professor, Dr Sam Fairfax (Kathy Najimy), that allows for the human consciousness to be linked to robotic animals. This lets users get up close and personal with other species.

Advertisement
“This is like Avatar,” Mabel coos, and, in truth, it is. Plugged into a headset, Mabel is reborn inside a robotic beaver. She plans to recruit a real beaver to help populate the glade, which is set to be destroyed by Jerry’s proposed road.
Continue Reading

Trending