Entertainment
Neil Sedaka, songwriter and hitmaker over multiple generations, dies at 86
Neil Sedaka, an irrepressible songsmith who parlayed his compositional skills into pop stardom during the height of the Brill Building era in the 1960s and later staged an easy-listening comeback in the 1970s, has died at age 86. No cause of death was immediately available.
“Our family is devastated by the sudden passing of our beloved husband, father and grandfather, Neil Sedaka,” the songwriter’s family wrote in a statement to The Times. “A true rock and roll legend, an inspiration to millions, but most importantly, at least to those of us who were lucky enough to know him, an incredible human being who will be deeply missed.”
A chipper melodicist who never attempted to disguise his sentimental streak, Sedaka emerged at the moment rock ’n’ roll’s initial big bang started to fizzle. As a songwriter and performer, Sedaka treated rock ’n’ roll as another fad to be exploited, crafting cheerful, vivacious tunes targeted at teens who’d bop along to “Stupid Cupid” and swoon to “Where the Boys Are,” to name two songs he and lyricist Howard Greenfield wrote for early-’60s pop idol Connie Francis. Sedaka himself became a star through such bright confections as “Calendar Girl,” “Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen” and “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do,” the 1962 chart-topper that became his signature song.
Already falling out of fashion by the time the Beatles arrived in the United States, Sedaka didn’t weather the rise of the British Invasion: By the end of the 1960s, his lack of a record label caused him to leave the States for England. Unlike his Brill Building peer Carole King — he wrote “Oh! Carol,” his first big hit, about her — Sedaka wasn’t able to refashion himself as a hip singer-songwriter. Instead, he relied on showbiz hustle and savvy commercial instincts, teaming up with the musicians that became the iconoclastic hitmakers 10cc on records that positioned Sedaka squarely in the soft-rock mainstream. Elton John signed the veteran vocalist to his fledgling label Rocket and Sedaka immediately had two No. 1 hits with “Laughter in the Rain” and “Bad Blood,” a success compounded by Captain & Tennille taking “Love Will Keep Us Together,” a tune from one of Sedaka’s albums with 10cc, to No. 1 in 1975.
Sedaka’s second stint in the spotlight didn’t last much longer than his first flush of stardom — by 1980, he was no longer a Top 40 artist — but his ’70s comeback cemented his status as a showbiz fixture, allowing him to carve out a career onstage and, at times, onscreen. Occasionally, the world would turn and place Sedaka back in the mainstream, as when he appeared on “American Idol” in the early 2000s or when his 1971 composition “(Is This the Way to) Amarillo?” was rejiggered into the World Cup novelty anthem “(Is This the Way to) The World Cup” in 2006.
Neil Sedaka in 1960.
(Bettmann Archive/Getty Images)
A descendant of Turkish and Ashkenazi Jews, Neil Sedaka was born in Brooklyn, N.Y., on March 13, 1939. Growing up in Brighton Beach, Sedaka exhibited a musical proclivity at an early age, earning a piano scholarship to Juilliard’s children’s division when he was 8 years old. He studied classical piano for the next few years, his ears being drawn to pop music all the while. At the age of 13, he happened to meet a neighbor when they were both vacationing at a Catskills resort. She brought him to meet her son, an aspiring lyricist named Howard Greenfield, and the pair quickly became a songwriting team, with Greenfield writing the words and Sedaka handling the music.
As Sedaka and Greenfield developed their creative partnership, Sedaka sang in the Linc-Tones, a vocal group that evolved into the Tokens just prior to his departure; he left them prior to their hit single “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.” Although he didn’t abandon his dreams of performing, Sedaka concentrated on songwriting with Greenfield. Attempting to gain a foothold in the Brill Building, the pair first caught the attention of Jerry Wexler, who had Clyde McPhatter and LaVern Baker cut a couple of their tunes. Mort Shuman and Doc Pomus suggested to Sedaka and Greenfield that they would have better luck at 1650 Broadway, where Al Nevins and Don Kirshner had just opened their publishing company Aldon Music.
Aldon signed Sedaka and Greenfield to a publishing deal — still a minor, Sedaka needed his mother to sign in his stead — and the pair had their first big hit when Connie Francis took “Stupid Cupid” into the Top 20 in 1958. Not long after, Sedaka signed with RCA Records as a performer. “The Diary,” inspired by Francis refusing Sedaka and Greenfield access to her diary, became Sedaka’s first hit single in 1958 after the doo-wop group Little Anthony and the Imperials passed on the chance to record it first. Sedaka had difficulty delivering a successful sequel to his initial hit for RCA, so he constructed “Oh! Carol” to mimic the lovelorn yet sweet sounds filling the charts in 1959. Sedaka’s gambit paid off: “Oh! Carol” was a Top 10 hit, popular enough to generate an answer record — King’s husband, Gerry Goffin, wrote “Oh! Neil,” which failed to be a hit for King.
With many of rock ’n’ roll’s initial stars waylaid — Elvis Presley was in the Army, Chuck Berry was embroiled in legal problems, Little Richard left the music behind for church, Jerry Lee Lewis’ career imploded — Sedaka stepped into the breach, offering well-scrubbed, buoyant tunes designed to mirror teenage concerns. “Stairway to Heaven,” “Calendar Girl,” “Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen,” “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do” and “Next Door to an Angel” all bounced to a bright beat and boasted ornate arrangements that highlighted Sedaka’s youthful cheer.
While he was ensconced in the Top 10, Sedaka continued to write hits for other artists, remaining a regular composer for Francis but also reaching the charts with Jimmy Clanton. He’d occasionally moonlight in the studio too: He plays piano on “Dream Lover,” one of Bobby Darin‘s biggest hits.
By the time the Beatles and the British Invasion took over teen bedrooms and the pop charts in 1964, Sedaka’s hit-making streak had run dry. Panicked, he recorded “It Hurts to Be in Love,” an operatic pop song co-written by Greenfield and Helen Miller. Rushing into a nearby demo studio, Sedaka cut a version that was ready for radio, but RCA refused to release it, on the grounds that it only released records made in its studios. Gene Pitney took the track, subbed his vocals for Sedaka’s and wound up with a Top 10 hit at a time Sedaka couldn’t break the Top 40. Sedaka later claimed, “It was horrible. That would have been my No. 1 song, my comeback song.”
After his deal with RCA expired in 1966, Sedaka started playing hotels in the Catskills and clubs on the East Coast, venues that grew progressively smaller with each passing year. He continued to get work as a songwriter, penning songs for the Monkees (“The Girl I Left Behind Me,” “When Love Comes Knockin’ at Your Door”) with lyricist Carole Bayer, and the 5th Dimension (“Workin’ on a Groovy Thing”) with Roger Atkins.
Faced with dwindling prospects in the United States, Sedaka began to regularly tour England and Australia in the late 1960s. By the dawn of the ’70s, he realized that the times had changed around him: “The era of the singer-songwriter had begun and I was being left behind. I needed to be part of it. I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted it with a vengeance!” He returned to RCA with “Emergence,” a mellow record designed to follow King’s “Tapestry” onto the radio, but that airplay never materialized: Sedaka was still seen as a relic of the early ’60s.
Olivia Newton-John and Neil Sedaka performing in a BBC television studio in 1971.
(Warwick Bedford / Radio Times via Getty Images)
Frustrated with the disinterest in “Emergence,” Sedaka decamped to the U.K., working its club circuit until he was introduced to Eric Stewart, Graham Gouldman, Lol Creme and Kevin Godley, a group of British pop veterans who soon would form the art-pop outfit 10cc. The quartet brought Sedaka into their Strawberry Studios — a place where they recorded a number of bizarre bubble-gum hits under such pseudonyms as Crazy Elephant and Hotlegs — and backed him on 1972’s “Solitaire” album, whose title track was his first collaboration with lyricist Phil Cody; it’d later be covered by Elvis Presley.
“Solitaire” gave Sedaka his first U.K. hit in nearly a decade with “That’s When the Music Takes Me.” Encouraged, the singer-songwriter reunited with 10cc in 1973 for “The Tra-La-La Days are Over,” an album that featured the bubbly “Love Will Keep Us Together.” By the time Sedaka released “Laughter in the Rain” in 1974, he had severed ties with 10cc and found a new benefactor in Elton John.
Then at the height of his phenomenal 1970s popularity, John signed Sedaka to his recently launched American imprint Rocket Records. Rocket repackaged highlights from the 10cc records as “Sedaka’s Back,” adding “Laughter in the Rain” for good measure. The lush number slowly worked its way up the charts, eventually reaching No. 1 on Billboard in 1975. “Bad Blood,” a lively duet with an uncredited Elton John, followed “Laughter in the Rain” to the top of the pop charts later in ’75, arriving just after Captain & Tennille had a No. 1 with “Love Will Keep Us Together.”
Elton John and Neil Sedaka in 1975.
(Richard E. Aaron / Redferns via Getty Images)
Sedaka’s comeback cooled as quickly as it had ignited. He reached the lower rungs of the Top 40 a couple of times in 1976, parted ways with Rocket, then signed to Elektra in 1977, releasing a series of records that found him countering his satiny easy listening with a louche streak on such songs as “Sleazy Love,” “One Night Stand” and “Junkie for Your Love.”
“Should’ve Never Let You Go,” a duet with his daughter, Dara, became his last charting hit in 1980. He published a memoir, “Laughter in the Rain: My Own Story,” in 1982 and was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1983. By the mid-’80s, he had drifted toward the oldies circuit, revisiting his hits in the studio and onstage, turning his songbook into stage productions: The jukebox musical “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do” arrived in 2005, and the musical biography “Laughter in the Rain” followed five years later. He returned to classical music for 1995’s “Classically Sedaka.” He recorded a collection of Yiddish songs, “Brighton Beach Memories,” in 2003, and a children’s album, “Waking Up Is Hard to Do,” in 2009.
Neil Sedaka performing in 2014.
(Robin Little / Redferns via Getty Images)
Occasionally, Sedaka would reemerge on a bigger stage. In 2003, he showed up as a guest judge on the second season of “American Idol,” declaring its runner-up Clay Aiken was “ear delicious.” “(Is This the Way to) Amarillo?,” a bubble-gum song Sedaka wrote and Tony Christie recorded in 1971, was revived in 2006, when it was used as the basis for the novelty “(Is This the Way to) The World Cup?”
On Oct. 26, 2007, Lincoln Center honored Sedaka’s 50 years in showbiz with a gala concert featuring Natalie Cole, David Foster and Clay Aiken. He continued to work steadily over the next two decades, releasing a handful of new records but focusing on concerts. When the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020, he took his show online, holding mini-concerts on social media.
Sedaka is survived by his wife, Leba, daughter Dara and son Marc, and three grandchildren.
While a bit hollow as a character study, painting with broad thematic brushstrokes that often keep its hero at a distance, Young Washington is a compelling historical drama, with a grandiose scope that is rare in Hollywood, and an inspirational story befitting of America at its best.
About the Film
It’s trendy for Hollywood to disparage the United States with films that highlight how the country has fallen short of its lofty ideals (and the beauty of American liberty is that such critical self-reflection is possible). Last year’s One Battle After Another was the darling of the Academy Awards with such a tale. But this Independence Day, and in celebration of 250 years as a nation, audiences can be reminded that (like the men who founded it) America may be imperfect, but the American spirit is a noble and beautiful thing worth fighting for. Young Washington is the origin story, not just of one of those brave Founding Fathers, but of the patriotic spirit and noble values they inspired. While a bit hollow as a character study, painting with broad thematic brushstrokes that often keep its hero at a distance, Young Washington is a compelling historical drama, with a grandiose scope that is rare in Hollywood, and an inspirational story befitting of America at its best.
Director Jon Erwin (House of David, I Can Only Imagine) again proves to be one of the best all-around storytelling talents in Hollywood right now, faith-based or otherwise. Produced and distributed by Angel and Wonder Project, the film is among the most ambitious projects to emerge from the new wave of faith-based entertainment, even if Young Washington isn’t explicitly “faith-based” in a rigid sense. When I interviewed screenwriter Diederik Hoogstraten, he aptly referred to the storytelling approach as “values based.” It may not be a gospel-preaching cinematic tract (and it’s the better for it), but Christians will find plenty to affirm and celebrate here.
If we do count the film among the “faith-based” genre family, then it’s easily a peak achievement. It’s a visually beautiful and well-crafted film. For as good as the modern faith-based genre has become, few movies have warranted a theatrical viewing, being built more on wholesome narrative than visual spectacle. In contrast, seeing Washington gallop on a horse as cannon fire and the pandemonium of battle rages all around him is a full-blown cinematic experience that has rarely been achieved in the genre – other than perhaps Erwin’s own The House of David.
Young Washington is solid from start to finish, but it never fully soars. The film is more interesting than engrossing; good in most areas, but never quite great at any one of them. The clearest comparable, due to the subject matter, is perhaps Mel Gibson’s The Patriot (2000). Historical inaccuracies aside, that film packed a cinematic punch of action, spectacle, and emotional storytelling. Young Washington offers the first two but lacks the third. It’s a story that appeals more to the head than the heart, historically informative, but not making me feel much toward the story.
The creative decision to focus the story on a limited, formulative period of Washington’s early life shapes the film in significant ways. Many biopics fall into the trap of dutifully checking boxes, adapting a Wikipedia page more than unfolding a character journey. There’s still some of that with Young Washington, but the limited parameters lend the film a greater sense of focus and an opportunity to breathe. It feels like a story about something more than just putting historical events onto the movie screen.
At the same time, the film also feels like “part one” of a larger story, or a prequel for a film that doesn’t yet exist. The story seems constantly building toward something but then ends on the cusp of reaching it. Perhaps a future sequel is in the cards (although Middle Aged Washington doesn’t have the same ring to it), but the climactic pay off feels lacking. Interestingly, while the movie remains largely historically accurate (as far I can tell), the climactic final battle is more positively framed as a sort of inspirational victory, even when the historical battle was a crushing defeat. It’s perhaps an attempt to manufacture a thrilling third act resolution for a historical figure who was still only in the “first act” of his life. The decision mostly works, and that final battle is the film’s greatest triumph, but the story overall, as told, feels incomplete.
Also notable is that despite the intentionally patriotic release date, and centering on George Washington—arguably the American hero—the “Young” part of the film’s title means that the story pre-dates the revolutionary war. It sees Washington spend the duration of the runtime as a proud officer in the British army. Not quite the patriotic celebration the marketing has promised. Beyond existing knowledge of the historical significance of the protagonist, there is no real “America” at all, beyond a focus on his Virginian regiment, and some hints at the “American Spirit” that would one day define the nation (see themes below).
The fact that it has taken until the end of this review to discuss the character of George Washington himself is also telling. Unfortunately, he is the least interesting part of the film. The fault is not with actor William Franklyn-Miller, who does an admirable job. The problem is with the characterization. Washington has understandable motivations and inner conflict, but they are approached more from the perspective of an outside observer, rather than getting into his own headspace (we are told about struggles but rarely feel his turmoil). The film doesn’t probe deep enough into the root causes of these struggles, or the causes of his insecurity and drive for greatness. I left the film having learned about the events his early life, but without a better understanding of him as a man.
In the end, Young Washington boasts enough entertainment and quality filmmaking to please audiences. It’s a high floor, low ceiling type of film. There are no moments where the film fails to deliver consistent quality, but it just never seems able to achieve anything more. It’s good, but not great, which is something rarely said of George Washington himself. Still, I enjoyed it, and in retrospect, its legacy may be more for how it paved the way for the genre to enter a brighter future. Come to think of it, that sounds befitting of George Washington after all.
On the Surface
For Consideration
On the Surface—(Profanity, Sexual content, violence, etc.).
Language: There are three minor profanities (“d—” x2, “b—ard” x1).
Violence: There is plenty of wartime action, including men shot with rifles and cannon fire, although the action remains relatively bloodless. The most extreme violence comes when a man is hacked with an axe, although it is more implied than depicted on screen.
Sexuality: None.
Beneath The Surface
Engage The Film
The Makings of a Leader
George Washington was a larger-than-life person. By the end of the film, he is depicted as a near mythic figure (although, the scenes are adapted from details provided by several Pulitzer Prize winning biographies, so sometimes real life really is a Hollywood story). But one of the film’s central ambitions, and one emphasized in my interview with the screenwriter, is to humanize that mythical figure.
Early in the film, he is not necessarily even very likeable at times. He is stubborn, and his deep insecurities manifest as the appearance of pride and arrogance. His poor choices and refusal to heed wise counsel, such as the defeat at Fort Necessity, lead to serious consequences. Many biopics are hagiographical (such as the recent Michael), but Young Washington demonstrates the biblical truth that all men have sinned and fallen short of God’s standard (Romans 3:23). It answers the age-old question by suggesting that great leaders are not born great, they must become great.
In an early scene, George and his mother argue about their unfavorable circumstances. George’s mother wishes for her deceased husband back, but says, “Providence denied me this.” George responds, “Then providence is cruel!” His mother eventually counters, “God raises what is well grounded.” That exchange represents the heart of the film. We cannot control our circumstances, but we can shape our character (and allow God to shape it) to respond to them. As one character says, “Failure is the tutor sent by God.” Washington lacks the status and social advantages of others, and at first, he attempts to take it into his own hands to rise to prominence. Ultimately, after great failure, he learns that it is through humility and service that he can be used to do great deeds (Matthew 20:16). Interestingly, at the end of the film, even the pagan Indian tribes recognize God’s anointing on Washington’s life.
Entertainment
’47 Ronin’ director Carl Erik Rinsch sentenced to 30 months in prison for Netflix fraud case
Carl Erik Rinsch, the director of the 2013 Keanu Reeves action film “47 Ronin,” will serve more than two years in federal prison for defrauding Netflix of $11 million.
U.S. District Judge Jed S. Rakoff on Monday sentenced 48-year-old Rinsch to 30 months in prison, the U.S. Attorney’s Office, Southern District of New York, announced. Federal prosecutors convicted Rinsch in December of wire fraud, money laundering and other counts. A legal representative for Rinsch did not immediately respond to a request for comment on Tuesday.
Federal prosecutors indicted Rinsch in March 2025, alleging the $11 million went into Rinsch’s personal accounts. The filmmaker “quickly transferred” the money from the Rinsch Co. account, where it had been deposited March 6, 2020, by Netflix, through additional accounts until about $10.5 million wound up weeks later in a personal brokerage account. He lost more than half of that money in less than two months via risky investments in the stock market, the indictment said.
Though Rinsch told the streamer that his sci-fi show “White Horse” was progressing nicely, the filmmaker allegedly moved the remaining money into cryptocurrency and profited from crypto speculation over the next couple of years. The streamer had invested around $44 million in the show. Rinsch was accused of spending around $10 million on five Rolls-Royces, a Ferrari, watches, clothing, luxury bedding and linens, credit card bills, attorneys to sue Netflix for more money, and lawyers to work on his divorce.
He was arrested in West Hollywood and released the same day after agreeing to post a $100,000 bond to guarantee his appearance in a New York federal court.
Rinsch never finished the Netflix show.
During his sentencing, Rinsch and his legal team told the court his behavior was a result of mental health struggles and medication problems and they are working to address those issues with a new care provider, the Associated Press reported.
“I failed to recognize the danger of the state I was in,” Rinsch said, though his mental issues were not described in court, and his attorneys declined to provide further detail.
Ahead of the sentencing, Reeves — the star of Rinsch’s most notable project to date — penned a letter in May requesting “leniency and mercy as well as justice” in the filmmaker’s sentencing.
In addition to prison time, Rinsch must serve three years of supervised release, forfeit the $11 million and pay $700 in mandatory special assessments, according to Monday’s announcement. U.S. Attorney Jay Clayton said in the announcement: “Today’s sentence sends a deterrent message: fraud will not be tolerated.”
The Associated Press and former Times assistant editor Christie D’Zurilla contributed to this report.
Minions & Monsters, 2026.
Directed by Pierre Coffin and Patrick Delage.
Featuring the voice talents of Pierre Coffin, Trey Parker, Allison Janney, Christoph Waltz, Jeff Bridges, Jesse Eisenberg, Zoey Deutch, Bobby Moynihan, Phil LaMarr, and George Lucas.
SYNOPSIS:
Follows the Minions in 1920s Hollywood as they search for frightening creatures for their monster movie, partner with a green creature, and must save the planet after unleashing monsters.
Minions & Monsters comes with a genius creative choice to reinvigorate a tired schtick. The slapstick antics of the mischievous Minions have always felt partially inspired by comedic stuntwork from the likes of Buster Keaton (at one point, a house comes down over a Minion, paying homage) and Charlie Chaplin, so it’s seamless for director Pierre Coffin (who continues to voice all of them) to place them in the Golden Age of Hollywood. Yes, these movies are critic-proof and will crack one billion dollars regardless, and a case could be made that the filmmakers could have made bank once again going down an artistically bankrupt path, so it is refreshingly welcome that he (directing alongside Patrick Delage and crafting the screenplay with Brian Lynch) chooses to insert these yellow goofballs into a Hollywood love letter that doubles as an avenue for children and anyone else to develop an interest in the era.
Generally, when nostalgia-pandering is discussed or Easter Eggs flood a cinematic experience, it’s about placating fans and giving them what they want out of corporate obligation to put a film in the best position to succeed financially. Minions & Monsters is an animated feature that begins by rewinding the Universal Pictures logo all the way back to when it was The Trans-Atlantic Film Company, with an opening scene that uses The Horse in Motion, the earliest example of photography resembling a motion picture. From there, it’s an adventure involving Minions and Hollywood, giddy to reference anything it possibly can, from classic monsters to Humphrey Bogart to Westerns to Citizen Kane to a plot point that feels ripped out of the recent more cynical and vulgar Babylon, with the red-hot popular Minions struggling and failing to adjust to the transition from silent-era flicks to talkies.
There is a narrative here (more so than in the first two installments, which is a huge part of why this film works in addition to its sincerity) in that a present-day Hollywood museum tour guide (voiced by Allison Janney) educating kids about E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, The Matrix, George Lucas (voicing himself while locked inside a glass casing), and more, eventually comes across a pair of Minions named James and Henry with quite the sweet friendship and story worth telling. Its initial stages aren’t too far off from what we already know about Minions in that they have always existed looking for evildoers to serve, this time coming across a cyclops, a wizard, a mummy, a viking, and others that they inadvertently kill through slapstick means.
The chaotic up-and-down history leads them to Hollywood, disrupting the shooting of an intense train robbery scene, which sends its director Max (voiced by Christoph Waltz) into a neurotic panic until studio executives, the Bright Brothers (voiced by Jeff Bridges), express that they find these yellow demons utterly hilarious and captivating to watch as they wreak havoc. As previously established, good things don’t last forever, and the Minions find themselves shoved aside in a new movie-making landscape, but not before a montage celebrating numerous genres across silent-era films and leaving James and Henry with a dream to make “the best movie ever”, Minions y Monsters.
This is where the film slightly loses its way, transitioning into a more familiar animated feature/Minions story, as they bust out the sorcerer’s spellbook they found ages ago to summon Cthulhu as their monstrous antagonist. Instead, they conjure up a tiny blob named Goomi (Trey Parker, voicing a different character in the franchise this time while sounding like an amalgamation of about five different South Park characters with plenty of Cartman coming through) who can’t be what they need for the movie but can help find other suitable monsters, all while joined by sidekicks Philips and Howard (voiced by Bobby Moynihan and Phil LaMarr).
While James and Henry (who are joined by Ed as their cinematographer) try to make this dream happen, the other minions search for another villain to serve, stumbling across robot Dort (Jesse Eisenberg voicing a character riffing on Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still), who turns out to suck at being evil even though he desperately wants to break bad. Rather amusingly, he befriends a suffragette (voiced by Zoey Deutch) in a completely bizarre, random subplot that mostly works because of how out-of-left-field it is. Nevertheless, it’s mostly filler material until the Minions meet their match in the climactic showdown that, unfortunately, has more in common with modern blockbusters than the classical Hollywood it’s trying to imitate, even if the enormous blob they’re up against looks icky, with gross animation details that deserve applause.
Setting that aside, it is noteworthy that even if there are still plenty of jokes with the Minions here that don’t land, it is also funnier when they are interacting with not only recognizable scenes, genres, and movies, but also what shouldn’t be forgotten. There is also a joyous friendship at the center holding it together, whereas I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about the Minions from previous movies other than that one of them was named Bob. Minions & Monsters is still more of the same, while also a testament and celebration of the beauty and magic of making and watching movies, with earnest love for the era that shines through. For the first time, the brain isn’t turning to mush watching one of these.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist
-
Washington6 minutes agoConcert News: The Washington Chorus Celebrates 65th Anniversary During 2026-2027 Season
-
Wisconsin9 minutes agoWisconsin Unveils Culver’s Uniform Patch in New Video Ahead of 2026 CFB Season
-
West Virginia14 minutes agoPutnam County man identified as victim in homicide investigation – WV MetroNews
-
Wyoming21 minutes agoFree Crow Culture Program at Fort Phil Kearny
-
Crypto24 minutes agoUK investors sue Binance in London for £150 million
-
Finance29 minutes agoWhat the Supreme Court’s campaign finance ruling means for the 2026 election
-
Fitness36 minutes agoI pushed myself too hard at the gym – and ended up in the hospital
-
Movie Reviews44 minutes agoYoung Washington (Christian Movie Review) – The Collision
