Entertainment
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.”
Arts
Supergirl
Director: Craig Gillespie
DC Studios, Troll Court Entertainment, The Sagan Company
In theaters: 06.26.2026
I was a pretty big fan of James Gunn’s Superman. Building up to the release of the film, I relapsed into my comic book obsession, which I had laid to rest many years prior. I read whatever you get recommended when you look up “Superman comic recommendations:” For All Seasons, All Star, Birthright — whatever, you don’t care. David Corenswet’s portrayal of Big Blue was loving, thorough and unbelievably human, which is what Superman is (he’s not Jesus). He is the best of us. He is what we aspire to be.
Supergirl was announced, and I picked up the comic it was based on: Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow. The questionable morals and talent of author Tom King aside, the book is good! The fantastic art by Bilquis Evely makes King’s (sometimes preachy) prose this beautiful and somber story about trauma and war. It appears that I’m ahead of director Craig Gillespie, who reportedly didn’t read the book and, boy, does it show.
During a bender, Superman’s cousin Kara (Milly Alcock, House of The Dragon) meets Ruthye (Eve Ridley), a child whose family is murdered by Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts, Amsterdam, The Old Guard), the leader of a raider group. She enlists Kara to hunt and kill him, and on their way, they confront their traumas.
Every change made from the original comic was for the worse. Most notably, this film simplifies the depth of the comic’s characters. Kara is reduced to a loud, charming alcoholic, which is fine, but in the comic, she’s somber and reflective, making an effort to teach Ruthye how the greater universe works. The antagonist, Krem, is sort of a loser in the comic. He’s a coward who spends his time running away, while in the film he’s a tattooed, pierced, menacing psychopath who appears in almost every major action sequence. He’s almost indistinguishable from The Joker — this all boils down to shame. While they’re becoming increasingly popular, comics are still for losers. Hinting at depth with characters who fly and shoot lasers from their eyes in brightly colored underpants isn’t something that a general audience will accept. They will accept a comic film so long as it constantly flogs itself for being comic-inspired.
Another bastardization is the look of this film. Everly’s amazing use of color in the comic makes the story so engaging. How is this translated? Brown. Just brown. When characters clash, it looks like someone’s wiping their finger across their dirt-covered lens, which is a total departure from Gunn’s fantastic color palette in Superman. The visual effects appear to be rushed and often look horrible — laughably horrible, as a matter of fact. How do you spot a bad action director? Look at the editing. If they have to hide poor action choreography and bad visual effects behind dizzying amounts of cuts, they’re bad. Gillespie is a bad action director. James Gunn promised that the DCU would prioritize artist voice over universal coherence, but if these are the artists he’s hiring, I’m not sure how long this could last.
Performances here are whatever. Alcock could have been good if the script and direction were right, but they’re not. I couldn’t get into Krem due to character assassination, but even if I wasn’t into the comic, I would find his performance as a crazy guy to be a standard for bad superhero movies. Ridley is good, especially for a debut in feature films, but the standout is Jason Momoa (Aquaman, A Minecraft Movie) as Lobo. He is loving the character, absolutely chewing up the scene with thick cigars. He’s a little cheesy-edgy, but that’s just what he is in the comics, so I won’t knock him for it.
While I was watching the film, I was suffering from a discrepancy. Supergirl is as powerful as Superman, but throughout this film, she doesn’t use her powers to their full potential. Something I actually loved about Superman is how much he got his ass kicked. Gunn was out to prove that Superman fights can have stakes — that he’s not just undefeatable and therefore boring as everyone says. Gunn’s ability to create ways to kill the Man of Steel without Kryptonite is amazing! Kara, in this film, is fighting space pirates and constantly forgets to finish the fight. It’s frustrating because the remedy to this in the comic is that they don’t see Krem until the last couple of issues, but in this film, Krem keeps showing up to menace Supergirl, and most of the time she has her powers.
I could ramble about how bad the dialogue can be, how derivative and uninspired it is or whatever lame comic thing I can talk about, but I’ll spare you. Here’s the moral of all this: Comic books are a valid storytelling medium. I recall recommending Alan Moore’s Watchmen to someone and being told that they have more important things to read. Watchmen is one of my favorite works of fiction. I did end up falling out of love with comics because I was told they were childish and I had grown bored of having costumes thrust into my peripherals all the time, but I’m back now, and I love them so much more than ever. I loved Superman because, above all else, it was earnest. There wasn’t a self-deprecatory tone toward its own plot. It didn’t try to bog its drama down with one-liners. It was just proud to be a comic book movie, and I think more movies should.
If you want to see Supergirl, go ahead, but I’d advise you to just read the comic, which is more dramatic, more meaningful and more impactful. —B. Allan Johnson
Read more reviews from B. Allan Johnson below:
Film Review: The Bride!
Film Review: Backrooms
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One Wednesday evening in May, at the boutique hotel Dream Hollywood — located just off the Walk of Fame — a young hotel staff member shuffled over to her co-worker to discuss a special guest on the top floor. Together they exchanged whispers about an artist’s unknown whereabouts and whether or not they would catch him on his descent to the first floor.
The name “Tito Double P” slipped out, referring to the Mexican corrido singer who happened to be in town promoting his latest album, “Acomodo.”
I met the 28-year-old on the top floor, where he opted for a warm, friendly hug in lieu of a firm business handshake. We were quickly rushed into a side room to conduct his last interview of the evening.
Those who’ve followed Tito Double P’s musical journey since 2023 would likely describe him as a chaotic force, with weathered vocals, off-the-cuff ad libs, riotous pelvic thrusts and suggestive tongue expressions.
Come Sunday, he’ll bring the ruckus when he headlines Belico Fest in L.A.’s BMO Stadium. But when we spoke about his second solo album, “Acomodo,” the Nayarit-born, Sinaloa-raised singer, whose real name is Jesús Roberto Laija García, arrived polished, perfumed and poised.
“After this LP, don’t be surprised if you see different things from me,” said Laija García.
Released on May 28, the LP contains 23 corridos, which see Laija García strike the commanding tone of brazen CEO. In its focus track, “Me Vale V,” the singer firmly declares he is manifesting his dreams and not paying anyone else mind. Its lyrics reveal it all: “Ya van tres días que no paro, pero bien trabado” (I’ve been going nonstop for three days now, but I’m totally locked in).
But listeners also get a more vulnerable side of the músicana mexicana singer, who agonizes over heartbreak in “La Fama” — while simultaneously voicing his vice for women and boozy escapades. Throughout the record, the singer sprinkles in the catchphrase, “Bélico pero no tanto, mija,” which translates to “warlike, but not too much, my dear” — striking a balance between his hard-shelled exterior and inner tenderness, namely in the yearning jazzy corrido “Pase y Pase,” in which he pleads for a late-night booty call.
Most notably, “Acomodo” boasts no features whatsoever, a rarity in an industry where artist collaborations play a key role in bringing in bigger audiences (and bigger payouts).
“Many people called me to ask why they weren’t going to be on [the record],” he said. But the solo move marked a milestone achievement for Laija García, who had no designs of becoming an international musical marvel.
“I was never the child who sang, who played the guitar in school festivities or at family parties,” said Laija García in a calm tone — occasionally referring to his stage name in the third person.
The singer still can’t fathom his own success. He cut his teeth by penning career-defining songs for his famous cousin, Peso Pluma — including anthemic corridos like “El Belicon,” “Siempre Pendientes” and “AMG.” These standout ballads touted a rugged lifestyle with elements of organized crime, which aided his primo’s ascent to the mainstream.
Tito Double P released his second solo album “Acomodo.”
(Adan Ornelas Anta)
In the process of composing his cousin’s Grammy-winning 2023 album, “Génesis,” Laija García asked him if he could also release his own material. “Let’s go!” he recalled Peso Pluma saying. “Your first song will be a duet with me.”
The plan was to debut Tito Double P with “La People,” a fiery narcocorrido that details the inner life of a cartel’s tactical security guard, who narrowly escapes a police raid.
But Laija García’s rollout plan took a detour when an unmastered version of his track was leaked to TikTok in spring 2023 — a bouncy tune he later renamed “Dembow Belico,” which is characterized by a Dominican-style boom-chi-boom-chick rhythm and raw, spitfire lyrics. This party track introduced audiences to a version of Tito Double P that radiated a lighthearted madness — fueled by Skyy vodka and Old Parr whiskey, as per the song’s lyrics.
“I liked it, it was something new,” said Luis R. Conriquez, who called up the new singer to be a collaborator. “What makes him special is his voice, his sound. He’s his own person.”
Together with Conriquez and Joel De La P, “Dembow Belico” was released on June 5, 2023, and became Tito Double P’s official debut in the music world — even giving life to one of the most viral clips of Mexican boxer Canelo Alvarez, who can be seen awkwardly dancing to it.
“From there on, Tito Double P was another persona,” said Laija García. Throughout his lively retelling of the story, he added a series of sound effects to move the story line — among them, wacha, pum, pum, pum, gol. “More than anything, Tito Double P came across as a character, because that guy was totally crazy, he didn’t give a damn.”
“More than anything, Tito Double P came across as a character, because that guy was totally crazy, he didn’t give a damn,” said Jesús Roberto Laija García, better known as Tito Double P.
(Adan Ornelas Anta)
In real life, Laija García considers himself a timid, camera-shy guy. That’s why he chose an illustration for the cover of his 2024 debut album “Incómodo,” rather than a real-life image of himself; the LP title directly translates to “discomfort.”
“I was going to be one of those artists that [only] releases songs, because [I thought,] ‘How embarrassing would it be if I got up on stage?’” he mused. “But now, I dominate the stage from head to toe. And I don’t want to come down.”
The debut record also served as an experimental project for Tito Double P, whose hard-won swagger elevated every sound he toyed with — whether it was on the brass-heavy banda song “La 701” with Luis R Conriquez, the techno thump of “La Bandolera,” the heavy-hitting urban track “Linda” with Neton Vega and the guitar-powered ballad “Los Cuadros” ft. Peso Pluma).
Featuring collaborations with established acts, such as Natanael Cano, Junior H and Grupo Frontera, the album peaked at No. 11 on the Billboard 200 chart and helped the rising star distinguish himself from his high-profile cousin — who he toppled from the No. 1 spot on the Top Latin Albums chart, five weeks after his debut release.
Although Laija García hasn’t shied away from embracing that familial tie either; in May, both Tito Double P and Peso Pluma concluded their “Dinastía” tour following their joint 2025 album of the same name.
“I still see comments on TikTok where people are surprised that we are cousins,” remarked Laija García.
Now with “Acomodo” — which debuted at the top of both Spotify Top Albums USA and Top Global Charts across all genres — Tito Double P affirmed his rightful place in música mexicana upper echelons.
“That’s why it’s called ‘Acomodo,’ because everything is aligning itself as it should be,” he said.
As Tito Double P made his way to the lobby, a member of the Dream Hollywood valet — who likely bore witness to Hollywood A-listers and other luminaries — asked if he could take a picture with the singer. “Tito, Tito, a photo please!” asked the employee.
Laija García flashed a friendly smile. Thankfully for the attendant, Tito Double P is always camera-ready.
A deliriously funny riff on The Wizard of Oz from director David Wain, Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass is a goofy patchwork of ideas. Some of them don’t work, but most of them do if you’re in on the joke. Written by Wain and his longtime collaborator Ken Marino, the comedy features an incredible number of hilarious people, sometimes playing absurdist versions of themselves. Jon Hamm, Jennifer Aniston, John Slattery, and Elizabeth Banks, among others, cameo alongside a cast of lesser-known but no less talented performers. Headlining the movie is Zoey Deutch, who, amid an impressive list of credits, has proven her knack for ridiculous humor like this (see 2019’s Zombieland: Double Tap). Wain directs a series of episodic segments that follow characters who skip along a yellow brick road of surreal gags and jokes about Hollywood. It’s all a bit nonsensical and ludicrous, but it made me laugh a lot.
For those of us who loved MTV’s sketch-comedy show The State (1993-1995) or Wain’s spoof movies such as Wet Hot American Summer (2001) and They Came Together (2014), Gail Daughtry will feel like a warm blanket. The State was a comedy troupe nesting ground for talent, many of whom went on to create and appear in dozens of other shows (Viva Variety, Reno 911!, Childrens Hospital, etc.), while member Michael Showalter has become a well-respected director whose output includes the indie comedy The Big Sick (2017) and the upcoming Colleen Hoover book adaptation Verity. Whenever Wain and Marino reteam with various members of The State (Michael Ian Black, Thomas Lennon, Kerri Kenney-Silver, Joe Lo Truglio, et al.), there’s usually something special in store. Even if the material doesn’t always work as a whole—see The Ten (2007), an anthology movie that pokes fun at the Ten Commandments—the result is bound to include some big laughs.
Deutch plays the titular Kansas bumpkin, a hairdresser who plans to marry her fiancé and lifelong sweetheart, the ingeniously named Tom Soursap McNoodleman (Michael Cassidy), in two weeks. At once naive and intense, she’s never been with anyone else. Neither has Tom. But after sharing their picks for a celebrity sex pass, Tom almost instantly encounters his choice in the flesh and then takes advantage of the opportunity. Burned because she didn’t actually think they were serious about following through, Gail resolves to seek out her chosen celebrity, Jon Hamm, and have sex with him to balance the scales. And so, Gail is off to see The Wonderful Wizard of Hollywood, alongside her coworker named Otto (Miles Gutierrez-Riley), an anagram of Toto. As the story unfolds, Gail Daughtry spoofs the structure of Dorothy’s adventure to Oz, except that Gail’s destination is Tinseltown.
Just as New York was “another character” in They Came Together, Los Angeles becomes one here. But instead of capturing the city’s flavor, Gail and Otto gravitate toward CityWalk at Universal Studios and, based on their hotel concierge’s recommendations, other local hotspots such as McDonald’s, Starbucks, and 7-Eleven. Gail and Otto begin searching for Hamm and gather friends along the way. Among them are Vincent (Marino), a former paparazzo who dreams of snapping a photo of Hamm; Caleb (Ben Wang), an aspiring CAA talent agent; and the crazed Slattery, who wants to work with Hamm again after their Mad Men days. Hot on their trail are two cartoonish mobsters (Joe Lo Truglio, Mather Zickel) desperate to recover a briefcase that was switched with Gail’s at LAX and contains information about their boss’ (Sabrina Impacciatore) plans to dismantle the global financial system. Their quest eventually brings them to Hamm, whose private security (Tobie Windham) enforces not with his fists or a taser, but with an obscure promise to make anyone who tests him “real sick.”
Gail’s travels are occasionally interrupted by Fourth Wall-breaking commentary from the film’s narrator, a mailman played by Fred Malmed. It’s one of the aspects of the movie that doesn’t work, but Gail Daughtry’s framework is less essential than the inspired jokes throughout. Wain and Marino riotously showcase the most banal aspects of LA, a signature of their delightfully dumb humor, which almost always lands as intended. Granted, some unfamiliar with their brand of comedy may take a while to get on its wavelength, and others may never understand why it’s funny. Still, there are enough non sequiturs and random punchlines blended with raunchy and occasionally dark-as-hell asides to keep the viewer off-kilter yet chuckling throughout.
There’s an irreverent surprise around every corner in Gail Daughtry, and Deutch fits right in with her comedian costars. Her impressive range renders the silliest moments without winking at the audience, but she also never reduces her character to a mere comic device. It’s also a joy to watch celebrities of Hamm and Aniston’s caliber poke fun at their image, even if the movie doesn’t challenge Being John Malkovich (1999) in its self-referentiality. Outside of last year’s disappointing The Naked Gun, few comedies today attempt to be pure joke machines. Wain and Marino deliver a movie that will probably take some time to be discovered and cherished for what it is, but after a few rewatches, much like the director’s other features, it’s sure to become a cult favorite.
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