Entertainment

Jeffrey Wright wonders what's next. The Pacific Ocean, for starters

Published

2 years ago

February 14, 2024

Jeffrey Wright wonders what's next. The Pacific Ocean, for starters

“I’d never had a meeting like that before in my career for any film that I’ve been a part of, and certainly not one that I was the lead in,” Jeffrey Wright says of a post-actors’ strike meeting that was filled with people planning out his promotional schedule for “American Fiction.”

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

Jeffrey Wright finished shooting “American Fiction” two Septembers ago and immediately, happily transitioned to becoming what he calls his daughter Juno’s “executive assistant,” helping her navigate her way through college applications and all the other stresses of a high school senior year. When she went off to school in the fall, Wright thought he’d feel liberated, that he’d enjoy, as he puts it, “a new phase of freedom.”

“But I realized that I’ve been doing the father thing for 22 years now, and I think I’m finally good at it,” Wright says, punctuating the thought with a laugh. (He also has a son, Elijah, with ex-wife Carmen Ejogo.) “Being a father has kind of been the primary thing I’ve been … and now I miss it.” He pauses, as he does often in conversation. Wright is a man who considers every word. “Yeah … I wonder what’s next.”

We’d just met 15 minutes ago. Being a father is how you see yourself, I ask. More than an actor?

“Oh, f— yeah,” Wright responds without hesitation.

“So, in a way, my life seems purposeless now,” Wright continues. “It certainly seems empty in multiple ways.”

This sounds serious. And it is, though two things should also be noted up front. First, pretty much everything Wright says in his deliberate, resonant voice echoes with meaning, with contemplation, with weight. He could read the Taco Bell menu — chalupa su-preme — and convince you that it’s a lyrical wonder.

Second: Wright’s doing OK. Really. He’s just a man given to introspection.

In the fall, Wright had time, too much time, really, to reflect. The actors’ strike prevented him from taking a job or going to the Toronto International Film Festival, where “American Fiction” premiered and won the event’s audience award. Wright would have loved to be there and talk about playing Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, an author and professor, who, frustrated with his career, drunkenly cranks out “My Pafology,” a pandering book that fully embraces cliches about the urban Black experience. Improbably or maybe naturally — the film lets you decide — it becomes a bestseller. Monk, an artist, doesn’t know how to feel about its success. After all, he wrote it in a fit of pique.

Jeffrey Wright, left, as Thelonious “Monk” Ellison and Sterling K. Brown as his less responsible brother Cliff Ellison in “American Fiction.”

(Orion Pictures)

So, yes, much to discuss — only Wright couldn’t say a word. So instead he headed west from his Brooklyn home to a Malibu rental just down the coast from fried seafood destination Neptune’s Net, where he keeps his surfboards, truck and bicycle. Time to work on himself. Mind. Body. Spirit. Find some decent waves. Power through eight-mile bike rides through the hills. (“I’ve got a little e-assist,” he says of his electric ride. “I try to use it in moderation … but it is uphill.”) Regular workouts at a wellness center, doing Pilates, acupuncture and weight training.

“I was trying to get back to the old ways a little bit, to the extent that that’s possible in these older times,” Wright, says. He recently turned 58. He knows he’s not going to get back to the shape he was in when he played lacrosse in high school and college. He couldn’t, even with all the training in the world. That’s because when he was 24, Wright was playing Puck in a touring production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and at the end of the first act, he leaped offstage and tore his ACL.

“The loudest silent scream in the history of theater,” Wright says.

Did you return to stage?

“Limping,” Wright says. “But, yeah, there was a second act to do.”

Being “young and foolish,” he never got the knee fixed until eight years later when it locked up on a backswing playing golf. It’s still not great, but being out in the ocean helps. Wright started surfing about a dozen years ago and became passionate about the sport when he moved to Los Angeles after getting cast on the HBO series “Westworld” in 2015. For the show’s first two seasons, he lived in Santa Clarita. Then he moved downtown. Then to Marina del Rey. Finally he got this seasonal rental, just south of the Ventura County line. It’s his through March.

“The single advantage of living out here is the Pacific Ocean,” Wright says. “It’s just a magnificent creature. I could never leave it.”

The morning after the actors’ strike ended in November, Wright opened his email and found a message from one of the “American Fiction” producers. You want to come in for a meeting? When? Tomorrow morning, 10 a.m. at MGM. When Wright showed up, he was taken aback. There were two dozen people in the room brimming with energy and ideas, spitballing how to support the film. One person handed him a tentative promotional schedule. It ran through March.

“I’d never had a meeting like that before in my career for any film that I’ve been a part of, and certainly not one that I was the lead in,” Wright says.

Really? Not with the three Bond movies, the “Hunger Games” trilogy or the last “Batman” reboot? Or with “Westworld” or the two movies he made with Wes Anderson?

“Nope,” he answers. “Never.”

“The single advantage of living out here is the Pacific Ocean,” Jeffrey Wright says. “It’s just a magnificent creature. I could never leave it.”

(Jason Armond/Los Angeles Times)

When Wright earned his first Oscar nomination a couple of weeks ago, that tentative schedule they gave him became permanent, including more post-screening Q&As, more career retrospectives (“it’s like your life passing in front of your eyes”), more interviews like this lunch conversation we’re having, all of which inspire the kind of “intense self-reflection” that Wright hopes might end up being a constructive exercise somewhere down the line.

After he heard he was nominated, the first person Wright called was his 94-year-old aunt, the woman who helped his late mother raise him. (Wright’s father died when he was 1.) She lived with Wright for a couple of years until Wright had a house built for her near the Chesapeake Bay, where the sisters grew up.

“I called her and asked, ‘Did you hear any news this morning?’ ” Wright says, smiling. He made the call because his aunt’s eyesight isn’t so good. “She said, ‘Oh, I heard. Congratulations.’ ” Pause. “ ‘But you know, you should have been nominated a long time ago. You should have been nominated for “Basquiat.’ ” Wright laughs. “That’s the way she is.”

The aunt was the first person he called, but not the first person he talked to that morning.

“I was in my lounge/office area in Brooklyn. I actually grabbed some dumbbells that my son had in there for whatever reason,” Wright remembers, pantomiming doing bicep curls at a furious pace. “And I glanced at my phone and a message pops up. ‘Congratulations.’ And then I looked up and saw the picture of my mom on the bookshelf.” He smiles. “We had an exchange.”

Wright’s mother, Barbara Whiting-Wright, had come up several times during our conversation. An attorney, she was the first Black woman to serve as customs law specialist for the U.S. Customs Service, where she began her legal career in 1964. She also had season tickets to Washington’s professional football team and a record collection that included Miles Davis’ “Live-Evil.” She died four years ago from colon cancer.

“As far as my life goes, she was a visionary,” Wright says. “My mom basically lined up a series of doors around me from a very early age. And they all led to someplace good.”

“Pretty tough too,” Wright adds, making sure he painted a full picture. “She had expectations.”

Did you feel like you met them?

“When I described to a very good friend of mine how I had taken care of my mom at the end of her time, he said, ‘Her investment paid off,’ ” Wright says. “He knew my mom pretty well. I think what I had described to him, what was reasonably comforting to me, was that she trusted me. And that was cool.”

Wright looks down. Our table has been cleared. We’re well past the time we said we’d talk, and he’s had adequate introspection for the day.

“All right, enough of this,” he says, rising, extending his hand. Time to head home.

Too late to surf? Probably. But Wright already has one session circled on his calendar.

“I’ll be out in the Pacific on the morning of the Oscars,” he tells me. “It calms the system.”

Movie Reviews

Movie review: Ballet-themed erotic drama ‘Dreams’ dissipates in finale

Published

6 hours ago

February 28, 2026

Press Room

Movie review: Ballet-themed erotic drama ‘Dreams’ dissipates in finale

Mexican writer/director Michel Franco explores the dynamics of money, class and the border through the spiky, unsettling erotic drama “Dreams,” starring Jessica Chastain and Isaac Hernández, a Mexican ballet dancer and actor.

In the languidly paced “Dreams,” Franco presents two individuals in love (or lust?) who experiment with wielding the power at their fingertips against their lover, the violence either state or sexual in nature. The film examines the push-pull of attraction and rejection on a scope both intimate and global, finding the uneasy space where the two meet.

Chastain stars as Jennifer McCarthy, a wealthy San Francisco philanthropist and socialite who runs a foundation that supports a ballet school in Mexico City. But Franco does not center her experience, but that of Fernando (Hernández), whom we meet first, escaping from the back of a box truck filled with migrants crossing the U.S./Mexico border, abandoned in San Antonio on a 100-degree day.

His journey is one of extreme survival, but his destination is the lap of luxury, a modernist San Francisco mansion where he makes himself at home, and where he’s clearly been at home before. A talented ballet dancer who has already once been deported, he’s risked everything to be with his lover, Jennifer, though as a high-profile figure who works with her father and brother (Rupert Friend), she’d rather keep her affair with Fernando under wraps. He’s her dirty little secret, but he’s also a human being who refuses to be kept in the shadows.

As Jennifer and Fernando attempt to navigate what it looks like for them to be together, it seems that larger forces will shatter their connection. In reality, the only real danger is each other.

The storytelling logic of “Dreams” is predicated on watching these characters move through space, the way we watch dancers do. Franco offers some fascinating parallels to juxtapose the wildly varying experiences of Fernando and Jennifer — he enters the States in a box truck, almost dying of thirst and heat stroke; she arrives in Mexico on a private plane, but they both enter empty homes alone, melancholy. During a rift in their relationship, Fernando retreats to a motel while working at a bar, drinking red wine out of plastic cups with a friend in his humble room, ignoring Jennifer’s calls, while she eats alone in her darkened dining room, drinking red wine out of crystal.

These comparisons aren’t exactly nuanced, but they are stark, and for most of the film, Franco just asks us to watch them move together, and apart, in a strange, avoidant pas de deux. Often dwarfed by architecture, their distinctive bodies in space are more important than the sparse dialogue that only serves to fill in crucial gaps in storytelling.

Cinematographer Yves Cape captures it all in crisp, saturated images. The lack of musical score (beyond diegetic music in the ballet scenes) contributes to the dry, flat affect and tone, as these characters enact increasing cruelties — both emotional and physical — upon each other as a means of trying to contain their lover, until it escalates into something truly dark and disturbing.

Franco, frankly, loses the plot of “Dreams” in the third act. What is a rather staid drama about the weight of social expectations on a relationship becomes a dramatically unexpected game of vengeance as Jennifer and Fernando grasp at any power they have over the other. She fetishizes him and he returns the favor, violently.

Ultimately, Franco jettisons his characters for the sake of unearned plot twists that leave the viewer feeling only icky. These events aren’t illuminating, and feel instead like a bleak betrayal. The circumstances of the story might be “timely,” but “Dreams” doesn’t help us understand the situation better, leaving us in the dark about what we’re supposed to take away from this story of sex, violence, money and the state. Anything it suggests we already know.

‘Dreams’

(In English and Spanish with English subtitles)

1.5 stars (out of 4)

No MPA rating (some nudity, sex scenes, swearing, sexual violence)

Running time: 1:35

How to watch: In theaters Feb. 27

Entertainment

Soho House sued after bartender alleges she was ‘drugged and raped’ by her supervisor

Published

7 hours ago

February 28, 2026

Press Room

Soho House sued after bartender alleges she was ‘drugged and raped’ by her supervisor

A bartender who worked at Soho House’s exclusive Soho Warehouse in downtown Los Angeles is alleging a supervisor at the posh membership club and hotel drugged and raped her, according to a lawsuit filed in Los Angeles Superior Court on Wednesday.

The woman, who filed as Jane Doe, said in her complaint that she was “subjected to repeated sexual advances and unwelcomed physical touching” by one of her supervisors, Leonard Marcelo Vichique Maya, immediately after she began working as a bartender at Berenjak, the club’s restaurant, in September 2025.

Doe is suing Vichique Maya, Soho House, Soho House Los Angeles and Soho Warehouse for sexual harassment, retaliation and other claims..

“This is as egregious an instance of callous corporate indifference to workplace sexual violence that anyone can experience,” said her attorney Nick Yasman of Los Angeles-based West Coast Trial Lawyers in a statement.

Representatives for Soho House and Vichique Maya were not immediately available for comment.

Doe has further alleged that Vichique Maya made “numerous comments” about her appearance, propositioned her to be his “hook-up buddy” and told her that she “would be pregnant by now” had they met earlier, all within earshot of her supervisors and colleagues.

After two weeks on the job, Doe said that she reported Vichique Maya’s conduct to two male supervisors, including Soho House’s floor manager and food and beverage director, states the complaint, but “neither took any semblance of corrective or investigatory action.”

According to the suit, Doe claims that despite “his pattern of harassing behavior and complaints,” the company, did not address his alleged misconduct. ”

She claims his behavior escalated after a “team-bonding” work event on Sept. 13, where Doe said she became disoriented after drinking with supervisors and co-workers, eventually losing consciousness, and woke up naked in Vichique Maya’s apartment.

“Paralyzed and speechless despite her consciousness slowly returning, Plaintiff was condemned to simply watch in horror as [sic] MARCELO repeatedly raped her inanimate body,” states the suit.

The next day, Doe said that she reported to her floor manager that Vichique Maya had “sexually assaulted her.”

She said her general manager “confirmed” that he “appeared to be preying” on her during the work event, telling her that “These things happen between coworkers.”

When she proclaimed that she could no longer work with Vichique Maya,” she said the general manager dismissed her concerns telling her: “I have a restaurant to run; I can’t have it blow up on me.”

Despite informing three managers that she was “raped,” Doe said she was continuously scheduled to work shifts with Vichique Maya during which he repeatedly sexually harassed her.

In December, Doe filed a complaint with Soho House human resources, and she was assured that an investigation would be opened and “immediate corrective action” taken.

However, during the investigation, Doe said that she was placed on indefinite leave while Vichique Maya continued working. A month later, she was informed the company had completed its investigation and found her report of rape “was uncorroborated” and he “would not be disciplined.”

In February, the plaintiff said that she was forced to quit her job.

One of the first, exclusive members-only social clubs, Soho House debuted in London in 1995 and quickly became the bolt-hole of choice for celebrities and the deep-pocketed. It expanded globally with 48 houses in 19 countries.

It drew high-profile investors, including Ron Burkle through his investment fund Yucaipa.

In 2021, the company filed for an initial public offering on the New York Stock Exchange, but it has faced financial challenges. .

Last year, Soho House went private, selling itself to a group of investors including Apollo Global Management and actor Ashton Kutcher, who also joined its board of directors, at a $2.7-billion valuation.

Movie Reviews

MOVIE REVIEWS: “Mercy,” “Return to Silent Hill,” “Sentimental Value” & “In Cold Light” – Valdosta Daily Times

Published

18 hours ago

February 27, 2026

Press Room

“Mercy”

(Thriller/Crime: 1 hour, 39 minutes)

Starring: Chris Pratt, Rebecca Ferguson, Kali Reis

Director: Timur Bekmambetov

Rated: PG-13 (Violence, bloody images, strong language, drug content and teen smoking)

Movie Review:

“Mercy” is a science fiction movie based on one of the more common themes of moviedom lately, artificial intelligence (AI). This crime thriller cleverly creates an intriguing story using technology and the justice system, yet it fails to be consistently interesting and intelligent throughout. The conclusion is less significant than the initial setup, as the concluding scenes become typical action sequences.

Detective Chris Raven (Pratt) of the LA Police Department is a huge supporter of the city’s new judicial courtroom. Crimes are now judged by an AI program (Ferguson) in the Mercy Court. The court is run by an artificial program that makes decisions based on all of the evidence before it without any prejudice. Detective Raven is all for this system until he is convicted of killing his wife. Now he must use all of the data, including the AI‘s ability to tap into everyone’s electronic devices, security cameras, and even into government files, within reason, to prove he did not murder his wife.

Mercy is an interesting movie. It entertains throughout, even when the story gets sloppy and characters’ actions are irrational. This mainly occurs during the final scenes. The movie tries too hard to insert unneeded narrative twists. This is disappointing because the story is interesting. What makes it fascinating is that it happens in real time. This is the most brilliant facet.

All the other theatrics are unnecessary. Director Timur Bekmambetov (“Profile,” 2018; “Wanted,” 2008) and “Mercy’s” producers should have just kept the ending simple, no plot twists or superfluous action sequences.
Grade: C (This flick needs some mercy. Let the trial begin.)

“Return to Silent Hill”

(Horror: 1 hour, 46 minutes)

Starring: Jeremy Irvine, Hannah Emily Anderson and Robert Strange

Director: Christophe Gans

Rated: R (Bloody violent content, strong language and brief drug use.)

Movie Review:

“Return to Silent Hill” is about one man’s quest to return to the love of his life. The problem is she has moved on to the afterlife. Meanwhile, audiences lose part of their life watching this movie, which is unlike any of the two prequels in this series. This one is a psychological horror that bores.

Artist James Sunderland (Irvine) decides to return to Silent Hill, a place where many people died during a devastating illness that nearly enveloped the entirety of the city’s population. What is left there is a horror show of freakish creatures, all with violent intent. Still, Sunderland searches for the love of his life, Mary Crane (Anderson).

Think of this movie as a slow suicide, where a guy goes back to retrieve his dead girlfriend. To do so, he must travel to the modern land of the dead that Silent Hill has become. This one is a type of swan song by the main character, and the movie becomes less scary while lackluster romantic notions wander aimlessly.

Grade: D (Do not return to see this.)

“Sentimental Value”

(Drama: 2 hours, 13 minutes)

Starring: Renate Reinsve, Stellan Skarsgård, Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas and Elle Fanning

Director: Joachim Trier

Rated: R (Language, sexual reference, nudity and thematic elements)

Movie Review:

“Sentimental Value” is a Norwegian film that won the Grand Prix in France’s Cannes Film Festival and was nominated for nine Academy Awards, including Best Motion Picture. It is a solid drama filled with symbolism and family connections. It is brilliant performances by a talented cast under the direction of Joachim Trier (“The Worst Person in the World,” 2021).

This screenplay is about Gustav Borg (Skarsgård). He is a father, grandfather and a famed film director. He stayed away from his two daughters, actress Nora Borgwhile (Reinsve) and historian Agnes Borg Pettersen (Lilleaas), while he was creating works as a filmmaker. The director comes back into the lives of his daughters after the death of their mother. Their reunion leads to a rediscovery of their bond at their family home in Oslo.

Stellan Skarsgård is always a solid actor. He takes his roles and makes them tangible characters that seem like you know them, even when they’re speaking a foreign language. That is the quality of his act and why he gets nominated for multiple awards each season.

“Sentimental Value” is a valuable movie filled with enriching sentiment. It is an enjoyable film for those who value a good drama. The acting and original writing alone make the movie worth it. “Sentimental Value” starts in a very simple way, but everything in between, even when low-key, remains potent. Joachim Trier and writer Eskil Vogt have worked together on multiple projects such as “The Worst Person in the World” (2021). Their pairing is once again worthy.

Grade: A- (Any motive valuable movie.)

“In Cold Light ”

(Crime: 1 hour , 36 minutes)

Starring: Maika Monroe, Allan Hawco and Troy Kotsur

Director: Maxime Giroux

Rated: R (Violence, bloody images, strong language and drug material)

Movie Review:

“In Cold Light” sticks to a very straightforward story, primarily taking place over a short period. The problem is the story leaves one in the cold. Audiences have to guess what is being communicated because this movie uses American Sign Language (ASL) without subtitles. For those moviegoers who do not know ASL, they are left deciphering characters’ actions and facial expressions during some pivotal scenes.

Ava Bly (Monroe) attempts to start a legit life after prison. Her life changes when Ava’s twin, Tom Bly (Jesse Irving) is murdered while seated next to her. As her brother’s killers pursue her, Ava must evade law enforcement, which contains some crooked cops led by Bob Whyte (Hawco).

For a brief moment, this movie hits its exceptional moment when Oscar-recipient Helen Hunt enters the picture as a motherly Claire, a crime boss who seems more like a social worker/psychologist. Her long scene is wasted as it arrives too late.

French Canadian director Maxime Giroux’s style has potential in his first English-language film, but it does not fit a wayward narrative. A rarity, this crime drama has characters commit many dumb actions at once.

Moreover, Giroux (“Félix et Meira,” 2014) and writer Patrick Whistler forget to let their audiences in on their story. They allow much to get lost in translation, especially during heated conversations between Monroe’s Ava and her father, Will Bly, played by Academy Award-winning actor Troy Kotsur (“CODA,” 2021).

Grade: C- (Just cold and dark.)

More movie reviews online at www.valdostadailytimes.com.