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Key changes, karaoke and the importance of timing: The 2025 Grammys roundtable

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Key changes, karaoke and the importance of timing: The 2025 Grammys roundtable

Thoughts on the visual appeal of musical waveforms. Memories of the late Quincy Jones. Debate over the role of peer pressure in the popularity of New Kids on the Block. These were among the points of pre-roundtable chitchat on a recent afternoon in West Hollywood when The Times gathered five musicians nominated for prizes at February’s 67th Grammy Awards.

Our panelists:

• Songwriter Amy Allen, 32, who’s nominated for songwriter of the year for her work with Sabrina Carpenter, Olivia Rodrigo and Koe Wetzel; song of the year for Carpenter’s “Please Please Please”; album of the year for Carpenter’s “Short n’ Sweet”; and song written for visual media for “Better Place,” from “Trolls Band Together.”

• Musician, songwriter and producer Annie Clark, 42, who performs as St. Vincent and who has nods for alternative music album with “All Born Screaming,” alternative rock performance with “Flea” and rock song and rock performance with “Broken Man.”

• Musician and songwriter John Legend, 45, who’s up for children’s music album for “My Favorite Dream” and an arrangement award for a rendition of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” he recorded with Jacob Collier and Tori Kelly.

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• Producer and songwriter Daniel Nigro, 42, who’s nominated for producer of the year for his work with Rodrigo and Chappell Roan, album of the year for Roan’s “The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess,” record and song of the year for Roan’s “Good Luck, Babe!” and song written for visual media for “Can’t Catch Me Now,” from “The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes.”

• Musician, songwriter and producer Willow, 24, whose last name is Smith and who’s up for an arrangement prize with “Big Feelings,” from her album “Empathogen,” which received a nomination for engineered album, non-classical.

Several of the artists were meeting for the first time; some went way back, including Nigro and Allen, who co-wrote a song on Rodrigo’s 2023 “Guts” LP, and Clark and Legend, who once teamed up to cover Minnie Riperton’s “Lovin’ You” with help — for some reason — from Zach Galifianakis. (The latter two also share a friend and collaborator in Sufjan Stevens, who produced Legend’s “My Favorite Dream.”) Yet all of them agreed that in a music industry fueled by gossip, they’d heard only good things about the others.

“There’s plenty of people I’ve heard bad things about,” Legend noted with a laugh. “Not this crew.”

Willow

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(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

1. ‘Obsessive about the sounds’

You all come from different backgrounds and represent different traditions. But one thing that unites the five of you, I think, is a real devotion to craft. Put another way: You all have a touch of music nerd about you. Is that fair?

Legend: I’ve always been a nerd. I was a 16-year-old going to college.

Clark: You went to college at 16?

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Legend: And I was homeschooled before that.

Smith: Me too! Shout-out to homeschool kids.

Legend: We made it.

What does it mean to be a music nerd?

Smith: You study.

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Legend: You care about the details and about understanding the history and the legacy that you’re carrying forward.

Allen: And figuring out why your favorite things are your favorite things. That’s how I geek out: What’s actually happening in this Dolly song or this Tom Petty song?

Smith: Is it the chord progression? Is it the words they’re using? Like, what exactly?

What’s a detail in a song by each of you that people might not recognize but that you love? For me, an example is the bridge in “Good Luck, Babe!” where you can hear Chappell panting in the background.

Nigro: That’s literally what I was thinking about. I wanted people to notice that it sounds like she’s getting out of breath.

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Smith: It adds to the feeling.

Legend: I have this song called “Safe,” and there’s this one moment when I do this run and Sufjan has this arpeggio going the opposite direction. It’s just this simple thing, but it’s my favorite moment on the album.

Smith: Every album I make, I try to come to the songs with something different about my vocal approach. For this album, I was listening to a lot of Indigenous music, and there’s something that a lot of Native American singers do — this kind of ancestral call. I do it on “Big Feelings.”

Annie, you produced your album yourself, which I assume means you were especially attentive to the sounds.

Clark: Very attentive to the sounds — obsessive about the sounds. On the song “Broken Man,” I had my friend and great drummer, Mark Guiliana, come over and play around on that song at my studio, and he played this fill that was so sick. Later, we recorded some drums and bass at Electrical Audio in Chicago —

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Steve Albini’s studio.

Clark: Rest in power. And I’d gotten so attached to that fill that I had Mark replay it but with sounds from Electrical Audio.

Allen: I remember when Jack [Antonoff] did the key change in “Please Please Please.” We were all really excited about it in the room. I don’t know if the common listener would know there’s a key change in the second verse. But I’ve had a lot of family and friends be like, “There’s something that happens halfway through that song that just lifts me.” Being able to really lean into the musicality of pop right now is so exciting.

I’d call “Please Please Please” the key change of the year, but that would suggest I can think of a bunch of others.

Allen: Not a lot of competition.

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Clark: If Shania was in the room you might have some. Shania loves a key change.

Smith: Just keeps going up and up and up.

Allen: Same with Beyoncé in “Love on Top.”

Legend: “Love on Top” is the key change of the decade.

Anyone foolish enough to try “Love on Top” at karaoke?

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Smith: Only the Talking Heads at karaoke. That’s my go-to.

Legend: I used to cover “Burning Down the House” in my early demo days.

Smith: For a singer, I feel like doing karaoke —

Allen: It’s a trap.

Legend: It’s not for professionals.

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Allen: It’s lose-lose because if you kill it, everybody’s like, “F— that guy.” And if you underplay it, they’re like, “John, why didn’t you go harder?”

Nigro: I did karaoke for the first time at like 34 because I was so intimidated. Although I do remember at my cousin’s wedding — this is 10, 12 years ago — they had a timbale player along with the DJ, and I was so smashed that I stole the timbales at one point and started playing them. My dad was like, “You know, for a musician, you really suck.”

St. Vincent

Annie Clark, a.k.a. St. Vincent

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

2. ‘Unruly in a good way’

What’s a musical era you wish you’d been around for?

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Smith: Earth, Wind & Fire, Ohio Players, that whole era.

Legend: The series of Stevie Wonder albums in the mid-’70s when he won three album of the year Grammys — I wish I were alive when those were being made. Those were probably the most inspiring albums for me coming up.

Clark: It shows.

Allen: I think about vocalists back then — how locked in you had to be from the jump. Watching people record harmonies in real time, everyone on one mic, having to match the tonality of everybody else.

Legend: A computer allows you to do so much manipulation. They had to come in and just deliver a take.

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Nigro: It’s interesting how our ears have become so adjusted to everything sounding perfect now. In my 20s I was really into Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks” — listened to it all the time. I hadn’t listened to it in years, and then I put it on the other day and I was like, I can’t believe how out of tune this guitar is. For the first time, it was driving me crazy. And I didn’t want it to drive me crazy.

How’d you deal with that desire for perfection on the Chappell album? It doesn’t sound —

Legend: It feels unruly in a good way.

Nigro: For me, it’s time — sitting with the song, listening to it, what it makes me feel like. I’ll listen, then I’ll walk away and come back: “Oh, that vocal’s rushing — I’m gonna move the vocal.” It’s natural, but there’s definitely editing being done.

Legend: Are you writing on these songs too?

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Nigro: Yeah.

Legend: When you’re in your songwriter moment versus your producer moment, what’s the difference?

Nigro: I never care about any production when we’re writing. I’m lucky enough that when I work with Olivia or with Chappell, they don’t care either — they just want to get a song. Sometimes with Chappell, we’ll put a beat on so we know what tempo we’re writing to.

Smith: That’s so cool. So you record the whole song with no production?

Nigro: “Good Luck, Babe!” was just a kick, a snare, a vocal and a synth — not even any chord changes. The chords are the same in the verse and the chorus.

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Is that cheating?

Clark: I was just looking at every Madonna hit from the ’80s — just studying chord progressions for fun — and it’s a classic move.

Legend: We’re not nerds at all.

So then what distinguishes the chorus from the verse?

Legend: Sometimes just changing the melody over the same chords can make it feel completely different.

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Nigro: Although there’s lots of hit songs where even the melody for the verse is the same as the chorus melody. Calvin Harris and Rihanna, “We Found Love” — same chords, same melody. The whole thing never changes. But the song feels like it’s propelling.

Allen: Tale as old as time, that trick. But it’s really hard to do.

John Legend

John Legend

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

3. ‘The best version of herself’

Last year, Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer” — which Annie co-wrote — topped the Hot 100 four years after it came out because people on the internet decided it should be a hit. This is a thing that happens now.

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Smith: I put out “Wait a Minute!” years ago and then TikTok was like, “Oh, we love this song.” Yo, I’ve put out three albums since then!

Nigro: “Pink Pony Club” did that. It’s going now, and it came out almost five years ago.

When an old song takes off, you ever hear something in it you wish you could change?

Nigro: The crazy thing is that you can. Chappell and I changed “Femininomenon” six months after it came out. I’m not really a dance producer, and the drums [on the original recording] just didn’t hit the way I wanted them to. Every time I heard it, I was like, “The fricking snare’s just not right.” I hated it more and more as time went on. So when we were set to put the record out for real, I called a friend: “Can you please change the kick and snare in this for me? I have like a week before we have to hand in the vinyl.” And we ended up swapping it out.

Annie, you just remade your latest album in a Spanish-language version.

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Clark: Sí.

Why?

Clark: I’ve been lucky enough to play a lot in Mexico and in South America and Spain, and I was always blown away by the fact that people will sing along to my songs in what might be their second or third or fourth language. So I thought if they can do that for me, maybe I can meet them halfway in their language.

Legend: How much did you find yourself revising the lyric to make it sing better in Spanish?

Clark: It’s wildly different — kind of a full rewrite.

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When you’re writing with an artist, Amy, do you think in terms of absorbing their language?

Allen: When I was really getting into songwriting like six years ago, I would hear what an artist wants to talk about and then try to put myself in their brain and write the song from their perspective. But I had this pivotal moment two or three years ago where I realized I was making it so much harder than it needed to be. Why don’t I just, when they’re venting about something, figure out the closest thing I have within me and then write in a parallel line with them? Sabrina is a special case because I have so much chemistry with her.

Legend: It seems like y’all had fun. My daughter is really into Sabrina right now, so I hear her in the car a lot.

Allen: We can hit the ball back and forth, and it’s unlocked something for her to become the best version of herself. My dream job is not having to sit there and come up with the funniest line. It’s allowing a chemistry to develop where those lines are just second nature.

Smith: It’s coming from the relationship that you guys have created with each other.

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Legend: I love that.

Allen: It took me a long time as a songwriter to get there with an artist.

Amy Allen

Amy Allen

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

4. ‘The vision is clear’

Chappell, Sabrina, Charli XCX: Artists who’ve been working for a long time finally made it happen in a big way this year. Is this a story about artist development? Should the music industry be patting itself on the back?

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Legend: I don’t feel like that’s what’s happening.

Clark: Can they reach their backs with those wads of cash in their hands? Is that possible?

Legend: What’s happening with labels is they’re not really in charge anymore. They’re not the gatekeepers as much as they used to be. The audience has so much power.

Smith: Social media is a huge part of this. And I feel like it’s a balance: There are situations where the creation of the art is pinnacle, and there are situations where that’s really, really not the case. We all know what it’s like to feel that straitjacket of opinions about what’s gonna make a hit record.

Nigro: Every artist says they don’t care. But there are artists that want to appease everybody and there are artists that really just do whatever the hell they want to do. I think the truth is that the artists have the power, but if they’re not sure about what they want, then they can easily get wrapped up in the major-label —

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Smith: Rigmarole.

Nigro: It’s easy to get lost in that. Everyone wants to be successful.

Seems worth pointing out that Sabrina broke through with her sixth studio album.

Clark: That’s her sixth album?!

What does that tell you about a career in pop?

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Clark: It’s telling me I got a shot [laughs]. I mean, theoretically, if you do something a lot, you get better. A doctor on their sixth surgery is better than a doctor who’s on their first. For some reason, music is the only place where people are like, “No, that first surgery was the best.”

Legend: But sometimes it’s true — sometimes the first one is the best one.

Clark: And sometimes you pierce somebody’s trachea.

Willow, your debut single came out when you were 10 years old. Do you feel connected now to that earliest instance of your musical life?

Smith: What I’ll say is that the message of my music has always been to love yourself and to love others and to live loud with all of your gusto. So “Whip My Hair” definitely doesn’t go against anything that I stand for now — it actually fits the journey that I’ve had. I look back at my first album and I’m like, I definitely wouldn’t do that now. But like Annie said, the more you do something, the more you refine it.

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Legend: And it can take a while to figure out your voice. I’m thinking about the six albums for Sabrina, because now it feels like, OK, she found it. Not saying the other ones weren’t great, but they felt a little more unsettled as far as who she was as an artist. Then I hear these songs and they sound like this is her personality. The vision is clear.

Allen: Also, the world needs to be ready. There’s so many dominoes that need to fall for something like “Good Luck, Babe!” or “Please Please Please” to have the impact we want it to have.

Nigro: We wrote “Good Luck, Babe!” while we were writing Chappell’s album. But if we’d put it out when the album came out, I don’t think it would have done what it did.

Smith: Timing is so important.

Nigro: And I feel like Sabrina needed “Nonsense” to happen for the next iteration to take place.

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Allen: It was all stepping stones.

Dan Nigro

Daniel Nigro

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

5. ‘I wish I made this song’

Present company excluded, what’s a song or an album that you loved this year?

Legend: Tyler, the Creator’s album. I love his mom talking through every track and the storytelling and the personal journey.

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Smith: Esperanza Spalding and Milton Nascimento put an album out, and I just sat in my room with the lights off and was like, I need to ingest this into every cell of my body.

Nigro: The first time I heard “Million Dollar Baby,” I was like, Oh man, I wish I made this song.

Allen: I loved this new Adrianne Lenker album that came out this year. She’s defying every rule that I as a pop writer feel is floating around.

Clark: I’ve been listening to the new MJ Lenderman record, “Manning Fireworks.” It’s so creative and clever, but it doesn’t lose its heart in the cleverness.

’Tis the season for holiday music. You’ve made a Christmas album, John, and you’re on a Christmas tour as we speak.

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Legend: Call me Father Christmas.

Have any of the rest of you tried to write a Christmas song?

Nigro: Every year, I call up the artists that I work with and I say, “Hey, let’s write a Christmas song,” and they’re like, “Yeah, sure.” And then we never do.

Legend: I said that every year for 14 years until I finally made one.

Clark: I wrote a Christmas song — sort of. It’s on my last record, and it’s called “… At the Holiday Party.” It’s sad and depressing.

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Allen: That definitely counts.

Smith: If I ever made a Christmas song, I feel like it would have to be from the dark side. Or maybe like a pagan perspective.

Clark: You should absolutely write that.

Are Christmas songs hard to write?

Legend: The thing about Christmas songs that endure is that they endure. So there’s a lot of pressure on any new song to make it stand up to all the ones that have lasted for 50 years. And they’ve lasted for 50 years for a reason — people still love them. To try to make your new thing stand up to that canon is quite a challenge.

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Clark: Eat s—, Bing Crosby.

Entertainment

Stephen A. Smith doubles down on calling ICE shooting in Minneapolis ‘completely justified’

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Stephen A. Smith doubles down on calling ICE shooting in Minneapolis ‘completely justified’

Stephen A. Smith is arguably the most-well known sports commentator in the country. But the outspoken ESPN commentator’s perspective outside the sports arena has landed him in a firestorm.

The furor is due to his pointed comments defending an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent who fatally shot a Minneapolis woman driving away from him.

Just hours after the shooting on Wednesday, Smith said on his SiriusXM “Straight Shooter” talk show that although the killing of Renee Nicole Good was “completely unnecessary,” he added that the agent “from a lawful perspective” was “completely justified” in firing his gun at her.

He also noted, “From a humanitarian perspective, however, why did he have to do that?”

Smith’s comments about the agent being in harm’s way echoed the views of Deputy of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, who said Good engaged in an “act of domestic terrorism” by attacking officers and attempting to run them over with her vehicle.

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However, videos showing the incident from different angles indicate that the agent was not standing directly in front of Good’s vehicle when he opened fire on her. Local officials contend that Good posed no danger to ICE officers. A video posted by partisan media outlet Alpha News showed Good talking to agents before the shooting, saying, “I’m not mad at you.”

The shooting has sparked major protests and accusations from local officials that the presence of ICE has been disruptive and escalated violence. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frye condemned ICE, telling agents to “get the f— out of our city.”

The incident, in turn, has put a harsher spotlight on Smith, raising questions on whether he was reckless or irresponsible in offering his views on Good’s shooting when he had no direct knowledge of what had transpired.

An angered Smith appeared on his “Straight Shooter” show on YouTube on Friday, saying the full context of his comments had not been conveyed in media reports, specifically calling out the New York Post and media personality Keith Olbermann, while saying that people were trying to get him fired.

He also doubled down on his contention that Good provoked the situation that led to her death, saying the ICE agent was in front of Good’s car and would have been run over had he not stepped out of the way.

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“In the moment when you are dealing with law enforcement officials, you obey their orders so you can get home safely,” he said. “Renee Good did not do that.”

When reached for comment about his statements, a representative for Smith said his response was in Friday’s show.

It’s not the first time Smith, who has suggested he’s interesting in going into politics, has sparked outside the sports universe. He and journalist Joy Reid publicly quarreled following her exit last year from MSNBC.

He also faced backlash from Black media personalities and others when he accused Democratic Rep. Jasmine Crockett of Texas of using “street verbiage” in her frequent criticisms of President Trump.

“The way that Jasmine Crockett chooses to express herself … Aren’t you there to try and get stuff done instead of just being an impediment? ‘I’m just going to go off about Trump, cuss him out every chance I get, say the most derogatory things imaginable, and that’s my day’s work?’ That ain’t work! Work is, this is the man in power. I know what his agenda is. Maybe I try to work with this man. I might get something out of it for my constituents.’ ”

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Movie Reviews

Dead Man’s Wire review: Gus Van Sant tackles true-crime intrigue

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Dead Man’s Wire review: Gus Van Sant tackles true-crime intrigue

In 1977, a man named Tony Kiritsis fell behind on mortgage payments for an Indianapolis, Indiana, property that he hoped to develop into an affordable shopping center for independent merchants. He asked his mortgage broker for more time, but was denied. This enraged him because he suspected that the broker and his father, who owned the company, were conspiring to defraud him by letting the property go into foreclosure and acquire it for much less than market value. He showed up at the offices of the mortgage company, Meridian, for a scheduled appointment regarding the debt in the broker’s office, where he took the broker, Richard O. Hall, hostage, and demanded $130,000 to settle the debt, plus a public apology from the company. He carried a long cardboard box containing a shotgun with a so-called dead man’s wire, which he affixed to Hall as a precaution against police interference: if either of them were shot, tackled, or even caused to stumble, the wire would pull the trigger, blowing Hall’s head off.

That’s only the beginning of an astonishing story that has inspired many retellings, including a memoir by Hall, a 2018 documentary (whose producers were consultants on this movie) and a podcast drama starring Jon Hamm as Tony Kiritsis. And now it’s the best current movie you likely haven’t heard about—a drama from director Gus Van Sant (“Good Will Hunting”), starring Bill Skarsgård as Tony Kiritsis and Dacre Montgomery as Richard Hall. It’s unabashedly inspired by the best crime dramas from the 1970s, including “Dog Day Afternoon,” “The Sugarland Express,” “Network,” and “Badlands,” and can stand proudly alongside them.

From the opening sequence, which scores the high-strung Tony’s pre-crime prep with Deodato’s immortally groovy disco version of “Thus Spake Zarathustra” played on the radio by one of Tony’s local heroes, the philosophical DJ Fred Temple (Colman Domingo); through the expansive middle section, which establishes Tony as part of a thriving community that will see him as their representative in the one-sided struggle between labor and capital; through the ending and postscript, which leave you unsure how to feel about what you’ve seen but eager to discuss it with others, “Dead Man’s Wire” is a nostalgia trip of the best kind. Rather than superficially imitate the style of a specific type of ’70s drama, Van Sant and his collaborators connect with the essence of what made them powerful and memorable: their connection to issues that weighed on viewers’ minds fifty years ago and that have grown heavier since.

Tony is far from a criminal genius or a potential folk hero, but thinks he’s both. The shotgun box with a weird bulge, barely held together with packing tape, is a correlative of the mentality of the man who carries it. His home is filled with counterculture-adjacent books, but he’s a slob who loudly gripes during a brief car ride that his “shorts have been ridin’ up since Market Street,” and has a vanity license plate that reads “TOPLESS.” His eloquence runs the gamut from Everyman acuity to self-canceling nonsense slathered in profanity . He accurately sums up the mortgage company’s practices as “a private equity trap” (a phrase that looks ahead to the 2008 financial collapse, which was sparked by predatory lending on subprime mortgages) and hopes that his extreme actions will generate some “some goddamn catharsis” for himself and his fellow citizens, and “some genuine guilt” among Indianapolis’ lending class.

He’s also intoxicated by his sudden local fame. The hostage situation migrates from the mortgage company to Tony’s shabby apartment complex, which is quickly surrounded by beat cops, tactical officers, and reporters (including Myha’La as Linda Page, a twenty-something, Black local TV correspondent looking to move up. Tony also forces his way into the life of his idol Temple, who tapes a phone conversation with him, previews it for police, and grudgingly accepts their or-else request to continue the dialog and plays their regular talks on his morning show.

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Despite these inroads, Tony is unable to prevent his inner petty schmuck from emerging and undermining his message, such as it is. He vacillates between treating Hall as a useless representative of the financial elite (when the elder Hall finally agrees to speak with Tony via phone from a tropical vacation, Tony sneers to Hall the younger, “Your daddy’s on the line—he wants to know when you’ll be home for supper!”) and connecting with him on a human level. When he’s not bombastic, he’s needy and fawning. “I like you!” he keeps telling people he just met, but Fred most of all—as if a Black man who’d built a comfortable life for himself and his wife in 1977 Indiana could say no when an overwhelmingly white police force asked him to become Tony’s fake-confidant; and as if it matters whether a hostage-taking gunman feels warmly towards him.

Ultimately, though, making perfect sense and effecting lasting change are no higher on Tony’s agenda than they were for the protagonists of “Dog Day Afternoon” and “Network.” Like them, these are unhinged audience surrogates whose media stardom turned them into human megaphones for anger at the miserable state of things, and the indifference of institutions that caused or worsened it. These include local law enforcement, which—to paraphrase hapless bank robber Sonny Wirtzik taunting cops in “Dog Day Afternoon”—wanna kill Tony so bad that they can taste it. The discussions between Indianapolis police and the FBI (represented by Neil Mulac’s Agent Patrick Mullaney, a straight-outta-Quantico robot) are all about how to set up and take the kill shot.

The aforementioned phone call leads to a gut-wrenching moment that echoes the then-recent kidnapping of John Paul Getty III, when hostage-takers called their victim’s wealthy grandfather to arrange ransom payment, and got nickel-and-dimed as if they were trying to sell him a used car. The elder Hall is played by “Dog Day Afternoon” star Al Pacino, inspired casting that not only officially connects Tony with Wirtzik but proves that, at 85, Pacino can still bring the heat. The character’s presence creeps into the rest of the story like a toxic fog, even when he’s not the subject of conversation.

With his frizzy grey toupee, self-satisfied Midwest twang, and punchable smirk, Pacino is skin-crawlingly perfect as an old man who built a fortune on being good at one thing, but thinks that makes him a fountain of wisdom on all things, including the conduct of Real Men in a land of women and sissies. After watching TV coverage of Tony getting emotional while keeping his shotgun on Richard, Jr., he beams with pride that Tony shed tears but his own son didn’t. (Kelly Lynch, who costarred in another classic Van Sant film about American losers, “Drugstore Cowboy,” plays Richard, Sr.’s trophy wife, who is appalled at being confronted with irrefutable evidence of her husband’s monstrousness, but still won’t say a word against him.)

Van Sant was 25 during the real-life incidents that inspired this movie. That may partly account for the physical realism of the production, which doesn’t feel created but merely observed, in the manner of ’70s movies whose authenticity was strengthened by letting the main characters’ dialogue overlap and compete with ambient sounds; shooting in existing locations when possible, and dressing the actors in clothes that looked as if they’d been hanging in regular folks’ closets for years. Peggy Schnitzer did the costumes, Stefan Dechant the production design, and Arnaud Poiter the cinematography, all of which figuratively wear bell-bottom pants and platform shoes; the soundscape was overseen by Leslie Schatz, who keeps the environments believably dense and filled with incidental sounds while making sure the important stuff can be understood. It should also be mentioned that the film’s blueprint is an original script by a first-timer, Adam Kolodny, with a bona-fide working class worldview; he wrote it while working as a custodian at the Los Angeles Zoo.

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More impressive than the film’s behind-the-scenes pedigree is its vision of another time that unexpectedly comes to seem not too different from this one. It is both a lovingly constructed time machine highlighting details that now seem as antiquated as lithography and buckboard wagons (the film deserves a special Oscar just for its phones) and a wide-ranging consideration of indestructible realities of life in the United States, which are highlighted in such a way that you notice them without feeling as if the movie pointed at them.

For instance, consider Tony’s infatuation with Fred Temple, which peaks when Tony honors his hero by demonstrating his “soul dancing” for his hostage, is a pre-Internet version of what we would now call a “parasocial relationship.” An awareness of racial dynamics is baked into this, and into the film as a whole. Domingo’s performance as Temple captures the tightrope walk that Black celebrities have to pull off, reassuring their most excitable white fans that they understand and care about them without cosigning condescension or behavior that could escalate into harassment. Consider, too, the matter-of-fact presentation of how easy it is for violence-prone people to buddy up to law enforcement officers, especially when they inhabit the same spaces. When Indianapolis police detective Will Grable (Cary Elwes) approaches Tony on a public street soon after the kidnapping, Tony’s face brightens as he exclaims, “Hi Mike! Nice to see you!”

And then, of course, there’s the economic and political framework, which is built with a firm yet delicate hand, and compassion for the vibrant messiness of life. “Dead Man’s Wire” depicts an analog era in which crises like this one were treated as important local matters that involved local people, businesses, and government agents, rather than fuel for a global agitprop industry posing as a news media, and a parasitic army of self-proclaimed influencers reycling the work of other influencers for clout. Van Sant’s movie continually insists on the uniqueness and value of every life shown onscreen, however briefly glimpsed, from the many unnamed citizens who are shown silently watching news coverage of the crisis while working their day jobs, to Fred’s right hand at the radio station, an Asian-American stoner dude (Vinh Nguyen) with a closet-sized office who talent-scouts unknown bands while exhaling cumulus clouds of pot smoke.

All this is drawn together by Van Sant and editor Saar Klein in pop music-driven montages that show how every member of the community depicted in this story is connected, even if they don’t know it or refuse to admit it. As John Donne put it, “No man is an island/Entire of itself/Each is a piece of the continent/A part of the main.” The struggle of the individual is summed up in one of Fred’s hypnotic radio monologues: “Let’s remember to become the ocean, not disappear into it.”

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‘Sinners,’ ‘One Battle After Another’ and ‘Hamnet’ among 2026 Producers Guild of America nominees

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‘Sinners,’ ‘One Battle After Another’ and ‘Hamnet’ among 2026 Producers Guild of America nominees

The Oscar race for best picture came into clearer focus as the Producers Guild of America announced its annual nominees for the Darryl F. Zanuck Award on Friday morning. The 10 nominees (full list below) represent established Oscar-season contenders like “Sinners,” “One Battle After Another,” “Hamnet” and “Marty Supreme,” as well as a handful of films whose awards footing is less certain, including “Weapons,” “F1” and “Bugonia.”

The Producers Guild Awards are considered one of the most reliable bellwethers in the Oscar race because their preferential ballot closely mirrors the academy’s best picture voting system. The PGA Awards have named the future best picture winner in 17 of the last 22 years. Last year, eight of the 10 PGA nominees went on to receive best picture Oscar nominations, including Sean Baker’s “Anora,” which ultimately won both prizes.

Winners will be announced at the PGA’s awards ceremony on Feb. 28 at the Fairmont Century Plaza in Century City.

See the full list of nominees below:

Darryl F. Zanuck Award for outstanding producer of theatrical motion pictures

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“Bugonia”
“F1”
“Frankenstein”
“Hamnet”
“Marty Supreme”
“One Battle After Another”
“Sentimental Value”
“Sinners”
“Train Dreams”
“Weapons”

Award for outstanding producer of animated theatrical motion pictures
“The Bad Guys 2”
“Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Infinity Castle”
“Elio”
“KPop Demon Hunters”
“Zootopia 2”

Norman Felton Award for outstanding producer of episodic television — drama
“Andor”
“The Diplomat”
“The Pitt”
“Pluribus”
“Severance”
“The White Lotus”

Danny Thomas Award for outstanding producer of episodic television — comedy
“The Bear”
“Hacks”
“Only Murders in the Building”
“South Park”
“The Studio”

David L. Wolper Award for outstanding producer of limited or anthology series television
“Adolescence”
“The Beast in Me”
“Black Mirror”
“Black Rabbit”
“Dying for Sex”

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Award for outstanding producer of televised or streamed motion pictures
“Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy”
“The Gorge”
“John Candy: I Like Me”
“Mountainhead”
“Nonnas”

Award for outstanding producer of nonfiction television
“aka Charlie Sheen”
“Billy Joel: And So It Goes”
“Mr. Scorsese”
“Pee-wee as Himself”
“SNL50: Beyond Saturday Night”

Award for outstanding producer of live entertainment, variety, sketch, standup and talk television
“The Daily Show”
“Jimmy Kimmel Live!”
“Last Week Tonight with John Oliver”
“The Late Show with Stephen Colbert”
“SNL50: The Anniversary Special”

Award for outstanding producer of game and competition television
“The Amazing Race”
“Jeopardy!”
“RuPaul’s Drag Race”
“Top Chef”
“The Traitors”

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