Entertainment
Review: 'A Man on the Inside,' starring Ted Danson, is sweet, serious but always funny
My first memory of Ted Danson is of him dancing solo to Frank Sinatra in a pool of light on a pier in the movie “Body Heat,” which is all I remember of “Body Heat.”
It set a tone of gracefulness that continues to inform his performances to this day, in a wide range of soft-spoken modes, from “Cheers” to “Bored to Death” to “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” to “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” where he appears as a version of himself. He mostly plays comedy, because that’s what a likable actor is liable to be asked to do, but he can work against type with the best of them, as he did as a corrupt billionaire in “Damages.”
That Danson, assumed to be an angel, turned out to be a devil in the first season finale of “The Good Place,” was a massive fake-out that depended on subverting our expectations, not only of his character but also of the actor himself. (That the character became a force for good felt almost inevitably on brand.) He works all the time, and yet one greets every new appearance with a sort of grateful excitement, as if he had been away somewhere for years.
The latest Danson series is “A Man on the Inside,” premiering Thursday on Netflix, but it is in most every other respect a classic NBC Thursday night comedy. It comes from Michael Schur, who created “The Good Place” (a classic NBC Thursday night comedy), with which it shares a philosophical bent, playing with questions of mortality and morality and the meaning of life, explicitly but not pedantically. It’s sweet and serious, and as the series goes on, knockabout comedy makes room for poignancy. But it never stops being funny.
Danson plays Charles, a well-to-do retired professor of engineering, who after a year is still mourning his late wife. Without work or friends — a dramatic convenience that will allow him to find both — he has settled into a comfortable rut, amplifying what we’re to understand is a reserved, cerebral nature; he’s fascinated by facts and figures, but less good with people. He has a daughter, Emily (a marvelous Mary Elizabeth Ellis), who lives a couple hours away with husband Joel (“Good Place” vet Eugene Cordero) and three comically unresponsive kids — Wyatt Yang, Deuce Basco, Lincoln Lambert, oddly brilliant doing essentially nothing. Charles and Emily love one another without being exactly close. She’d like her father to get back into the swing of life, to un-retire or find a hobby, instead of merely mailing her articles he’s clipped from a newspaper. The paper newspaper!
In “A Man on the Inside,” Charles (Ted Danson) has a daughter named Emily (Mary Elizabeth Ellis) and three comically unresponsive grandchildren, Nico (Lincoln Lambert, left), Wyatt (Wyatt Yang) and Jace (Deuce Basco).
(Colleen E. Hayes / Netflix)
It’s in the newspaper that he comes across a classified ad, reading: “Wanted, Investigative Assistant, Male 75-85, Must have phone.” This brings him to the office of Julie (Lilah Richcreek Estrada), a private investigator whose client (Marc Evan Jackson, also from “The Good Place”) has hired her to look into the theft of his mother’s ruby necklace from her room in a posh San Francisco retirement home. Julie needs a senior citizen to go undercover in that “closed ecosystem” — that is, closed to her — to collect information, identify suspects and report back.
The premise seems improbable, yet the series is based on a 2020 Chilean documentary feature titled “The Mole Agent,” which tells just such a tale. That Charles is, at least to begin with, what Julie calls “the best option in a sea of not very good options,” is of course the point, and the starting point. The bumbling spy is a reliable comic figure, and Charles, masking ill-conceived lies with more ridiculous ones, would seem weird to anyone taking him at face value — if it were any other face than Danson’s.
At the Pacific View retirement community, Julie poses as Charles’ daughter, and when Emily arrives unexpectedly, he introduces her to the director, Didi (Stephanie Beatriz), as “my niece … Julie,” adding an extra layer to the farce. (“My brother, um, had a child, and it grew into her,” he’ll say, making a later awkward introduction.) Emily is skeptical of the whole arrangement — “You know, reading a bunch of Sue Grafton novels doesn’t make you a detective,” she tells her father — but it will also, as it bumps along, bring them closer together. It’s that kind of show.
As a person in his late 70s — Danson is 76 — one would say that Charles is a fish only half out of water in this environment; in his erect bearing and chiseled-profile, lead-actor handsomeness, he remains subtly distinct from his peers. Which is not to say that they’re a sedentary crew: Charles finishes his first night drunk — happy hour begins at 3 p.m. — and stoned, and he wakes up in the morning with two slices of pizza stuck to his back. (“Thank God,” he says to Julie, who has roused him from hungover sleep. “I’m starving.”)
The series also stars Margaret Avery as Florence, left, and Sally Struthers as Virginia.
(Netflix)
Sally Struthers, who doesn’t get as many meaty roles as she deserves, is Virginia, flirty and forward. (“You are tall” are her first words to Charles.) Elliott (John Getz) regards Charles as competition. An affecting Susan Ruttan plays Gladys, a gentle, former costume designer, forgetting things. Solitary Calbert (Stephen McKinley Henderson) proves a temperamental match for Charles. Florence (Margaret Avery) tempts him into reading Shakespeare, which goes over his head. (Significantly, he’s assigned the “Seven Ages of Man” speech from “As You Like It,” in which life’s last age is described as “second childishness and mere oblivion, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”) And I was glad to see Veronica Cartwright among the crowd, as well — a minor role, but, still, it’s Veronica Cartwright.
From the beginning of his learning curve, Charles charges ahead with a mixture of professional determination, childlike glee and scientific precision — finding the atmosphere “rife with secrets, grudges, interpersonal issues.” He compiles thick dossiers on everyone — when not questioning his fitness for the job. But even as he gets the hang of the work, he becomes more interested in the people than the case. He forges bonds and makes friends, which Julie warns him against. “Being a spy means being lonely,” she says, missing the point of the series she’s in.
While it isn’t as rich and strange as “The Good Place,” “A Man on the Inside” is nevertheless a pleasure on most every level, and, as before, Schur wants more than just to make you laugh. To the extent that it’s sentimental, it’s also clear-eyed, genuine and conceptually rigorous.
Many of us will have had the experience of managing older parents, or trying to. Many of us are old ourselves. Death waits offstage here, in plain sight. All these septuagenarian actors are still working, with years of experience and shelves of awards among them, at the top of their game — even if the people they play are not. In a sense, they’re just pretending to be old.
Movie Reviews
Bandar Movie Review: Bobby Deol roars in Anurag Kashyap’s unsettling legal thriller that refuses to spoon-feed
Name: Bandar
Director: Anurag Kashyap
Cast: Bobby Deol, Sanya Malhotra, Sapna Pabbi, Saba Azad, Jitendra Joshi, Raj B Shetty
Writer: Sudip Sharma, Abhishek Banerjee
Rating: 3.5/5
Plot:
Bandar follows Sameer Mehra’s character, essayed by Bobby Deol, a fading star who is desperately clinging to his past glory. Just as he attempts to rebuild his life and finds solace in a new relationship, his world comes crashing down. A former girlfriend files a heinous allegation against him, dragging him into a vicious, high-profile legal battle. Written by Sudip Sharma and Abhishek Banerjee, the film moves away from standard Bollywood courtroom setups. Instead, it dives straight into the murky waters of social media trials, public perception, and a sluggish judicial system where the truth gets buried under layers of gray.
What works:
Known for his chaotic energy, Anurag Kashyap takes a remarkably mature and controlled approach here. He avoids sensationalizing a highly sensitive topic, choosing instead to focus on the psychological claustrophobia of the protagonist. The prison sequences are exceptionally well-shot. They create a suffocating, raw atmosphere that makes you feel the weight of the character’s confinement. The script successfully avoids preachy, black-and-white monologues. It bravely forces the audience to confront their own biases regarding modern-day public trials and the digital judge-and-jury culture.
What doesn’t:
Clocking in at nearly two hours and twenty minutes, Bandar feels heavily weighed down in the second half. The narrative stretches thin, and a few subplots demand too much patience, making you wish for a tighter edit. The film stubbornly refuses to take a definitive moral stance or offer a neat resolution. While film enthusiasts might appreciate the complexity, mainstream viewers looking for a clear-cut ending or emotional payoff might walk away feeling detached and frustrated.
Performances:
- Bobby Deol is the beating heart of this film. Stripping away the massive macho swagger and menacing villainy of his recent hits, he delivers a deeply vulnerable, understated performance. He plays Samar with a mix of arrogance, confusion, and raw helplessness, proving his immense range.
- Sanya Malhotra anchors her screen time with her trademark reliability, turning in a grounded and impactful performance.
- Saba Azad and Sapna Pabbi excel in their respective roles, bringing genuine nuance to characters that could have easily been sidelined.
- Jitendra Joshi is an absolute scene-stealer, commanding your attention every single time he steps into the frame.
- Indrajith Sukumaran and Raj B Shetty are absolute show stealers with their raw acting.
Final Verdict:
Bandar is an unsettling, morally complex thriller that refuses to spoon-feed its audience. It isn’t a comfortable watch, nor does it try to be. While the sluggish pacing in the second half prevents it from being an absolute masterpiece, it is worth a watch for Bobby Deol’s spectacular acting reinvention and Anurag Kashyap’s gritty, thought-provoking storytelling.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of Pinkvilla. No statement in this article is intended to defame, harm, or malign any individual or entity.
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Kathy Hilton will no longer be the grand marshal of West Hollywood’s pride parade.
The city and WeHo Pride on Wednesday released a joint statement, announcing that “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” star would no longer serve as the Grand Marshal Icon for the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade. The event is scheduled for Sunday.
“After thoughtful discussions, the City of West Hollywood, the WeHo Pride production team, and Kathy Hilton have determined that the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade will not designate a Grand Marshal Icon honoree,” read the statement.
The decision comes less than a week after Hilton was announced. That May 28 announcement was met with swift backlash from the LGBTQ+ community and allies, who called out Hilton’s ties to President Trump and alleged MAGA-leaning politics. Critics also cited accusations that the socialite had used a homophobic slur while on a trip with other cast members of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” an action she has previously denied.
In their joint statement, West Hollywood and the WeHo Pride team expressed their appreciation for “the respectful and sincere dialogue” around both the event and the “role and significance” of Pride honorees.
“The City of West Hollywood has always believed that Pride belongs to the community,” the joint statement said. “Since its earliest days, Pride has served as both a celebration and a platform for activism, visibility, resilience, and the ongoing pursuit of equality, dignity, and justice for LGBTQ+ people. … These conversations reflect the passion people have for WeHo Pride and underscore the importance of ensuring that WeHo Pride continues to honor the history, values, and diverse voices of the LGBTQ+ community.”
In a statement, Hilton expressed gratitude for being considered for grand marshal and reaffirmed her commitment to the LGBTQ+ community and causes.
“My reason for wanting to be involved in this year’s WeHo Pride weekend was simple: to celebrate, support, and share in the joy of a community that means a great deal to so many people,” Hilton said. “Pride is, and always will be, about celebrating and uplifting LGBTQ+ voices, experiences, and achievements. … My support for the community and WeHo Pride is unwavering.”
She also mentioned several queer advocacy organizations and events she has supported over the years, including GLAAD, the Elton John AIDS Foundation, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, Dr. Mathilde Krim, God’s Love We Deliver and Project Angel Food.
The latest Pride-related dust-up follows the abrupt cancellation of the Long Beach Pride Festival in May. The city’s Pride Parade took place as planned.
Both snafus have occurred as conservative politicians and advocates continue to attack LGBTQ+ rights and visibility nationwide. Some Republican governors have even pushed for conservative alternatives to Pride month festivities. A recent Gallup poll has found that after years of steady gains, support for marriage equality and same-sex relationships has slipped, particularly among Republicans.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: Travolta’s “Propeller: One-Way Night Coach” is One for the Ages — All Ages
Back in the good ol’days — the ’90s — John Travolta would love to get off the topic of “Michael,” “Pulp Fiction” or “Get Shorty” in interviews with film journalists like me and regale us with how utterly besotted he had been with his first flying experience, how that drove his passion for piloting and buying planes and airfield-adjacent luxury houses.
He didn’t even seem to mind having to move house when this or that development balked at him flying his Boeing 707 out of there on the way to locations.
Travolta would tell any journalist who asked that he was writing a kid-friendly book, “Propeller: One Way Night Coach,” based on his first flights as a child in old propeller driven airliners — cheap red-eye overnight treks with too many connections for your average jet age traveller to tolerate.
I remember picking up the book when it came out later in the ’90s — at an airport gift shop — and thinking “Well, that’s as cute as I figured.”
And now, decades later and trapped in the B-movie hell of his post “Gotti” career, Travolta’s turned that cute book into the most delightful, fanciful and colorful bon bon of a movie.
“One Way Night Coach” is a child’s fantasy of flight and flying the way it used to be — with pristine, uncrowded, futuristic airports, an early ’60s era of jets and prop planes with over-uniformed stewardesses in white gloves, the days “Back before every Joe Sweatsock could wedge himself behind a lunch tray and jet off to Raleigh-Durham,” as Sideshow Bob memorably sneered on “The Simpsons’.”
It’s a fictionalized account of Travolta’s childhood about an only child (at least two Travolta siblings have bit parts in this movie) of a never-made-it/never-will actress/single-mom (Kelly Eviston-Quinnett) who indulges her aviation-obsessed eight-year-old with a cheap cross-country overnight flight.
Little Jeff (Clark Shotwell) will revel in almost every Idlewild to Pittsburgh to Dayton to Chicago to Kansas City to Denver and Los Angeles minute. He strolls into the cockpit to meet pilots, charms the stewardesses and checks out the sleeping bunks on the TWA Lockheed Super Constellation, loving even the delays if not the Chicken Cordon Bleu he’s offered on legs of the journey that offer a meal.
And as he’s an observant child, he comments (Travolta narrates) on his 50ish mother’s vamping and posing, her choice of cigarettes (Newports) and drinks, the solo traveling men whose attention she pursues and earns.
“I was her best audience,” adult Jeff remembers of the mother who’d read him plays as bedtime stories and delusionally hopes that this trip to Los Angeles might be her “big break” even though she’s pushing 50.
“Hollywood called,” she’d explain about their overnight cheap flight arrangements to ticket agents and crew. “They told me to take the next flight!”
At every turn, Jeff meets or sees kindness — stewardesses who indulge his many questions and bump them up to first class on the mostly-empty planes, a captain who fixes his toy model of a Constellation, a mentally ill flyer who flips out but is calmed by a flight attendant who isn’t overworked and frazzled in jet-powered tin-can jammed with Joe and Jane Sweatsocks who think nothing of traveling in their pajamas.
Normally, I cringe at pictures this reliant on voice-over narration. I recoil from stars who populate their picture with Sandler etc. offspring. But “Propeller” is unfailingly sweet and never cloying.
Sure, it’s fictionalized. But if you’ve followed Travolta’s life and career, a lot of him is in this — his raptoruous engagement with flying, an indulged child who developed a taste for fine food and creature comforts, a mother who was his guiding star as an actor.
I get why there are less adoring reviews than mine floating around “Propeller.” It’s unfailingly sweet. Mom’s man-hunting is seriously dated. This TWA tale is decorated with Gershwin’s majestic “Rhapsody in Blue” — United Airlines’ signature tune. And Travolta’s been around long enough for recent generations to come up and not feel a connection to the “Saturday Night Fever/Get Shorty” star whose career has fallen off and life has been visited by too much tragedy.
But I’d hate to be seated next to anybody who doesn’t appreciate this adorable, pristine and nearly perfect aviation fantasy on any flight, much less an overnight one.
Rating: TV-PG
Cast: Clark Shotwell, Kelly Eviston-Quinnett, Ellen Travolta, Ella Beau Travolta, Olga Hoffmann and John Travolta.
Credits: Scripted and directed by John Travolta, based on his book. An Apple TV+ release.
Running time: 1:01
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