Entertainment
The first book about the L.A. fires is really about ‘America’s new age of disaster’
On the Shelf
Firestorm: The Great Los Angeles Fires and America’s New Age of Disaster
By Jacob Soboroff
Mariner Books: 272 pages, $30
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If journalism is the first draft of history, TV news is a rough, improbable sketch. As last year’s wildfires multiplied, still 0% contained, field reporters — tasked with articulating the unintelligible on camera — grieved alongside Los Angeles in real time.
“What are you supposed to say when the entire community you were born and raised in is wiped off the map, literally burning to the ground before your eyes?” Jacob Soboroff writes in “Firestorm,” out in early January ahead of the Palisades and Eaton fires’ first anniversary. “I couldn’t come up with much.”
Viewers saw that struggle Jan. 8, 2025. Soboroff, then an NBC News national correspondent, briefly broke the fourth wall while trying to describe the destruction of his former hometown, the Pacific Palisades.
“Firestorm,” the first book about the Great Los Angeles Fires of 2025, pulls readers inside Soboroff’s reporter’s notebook and the nearly two relentless weeks he spent covering the Palisades and subsequent Eaton wildfire. “Fire, it turns out, can be a remarkable time machine,” he writes, “a curious form of teleportation into the past and future all at once.”
The book argues the future long predicted arrived the morning of Jan. 7. The costliest wildfire event in American history, so far, was compounded by cascading failures and real-time disinformation, ushering in what Soboroff calls America’s New Age of Disaster: “Every aspect of my childhood flashed before my eyes, and, while I’m not sure I understood it as I stared into the camera…I saw my children’s future, too, or at least some version of it.”
In late December, Soboroff returned to the Palisades Recreation Center for the first time since it burned. Tennis balls popped from the courts down the bluff. Kids shrieked around the playground’s ersatz police cars, ambulance and fire trucks — part of a $30-million public-private rebuild backed by City Hall, billionaire real estate developer Rick Caruso and Lakers coach JJ Redick, among others.
The sun peeks through the morning marine layer as Soboroff stops at a plaque on the sole standing structure, a New Deal-era basketball gym. His parents’ names are etched at the top; below them, family, friends, neighbors. It’s practically a family tree in metal, commemorating the one-man fundraising efforts of his father, the business developer Steve Soboroff, to repair the local play area. It was also the elder Soboroff’s entry point into civic life, the start of a career that later included 10 years as an LAPD police commissioner, a mayoral bid and a 90-day stint as L.A.’s’ fire recovery czar.
“All because my dad hit his head at this park,” Soboroff says with a smirk, recalling the incident that set off his father’s community safety efforts.
He checks the old office where he borrowed basketballs as a kid. “What’s happening? Are people still coming to the park?” he asks a Recreation and Parks employee, slipping into man-on-the-street mode.
On a drive down memory lane (Sunset Boulevard), Soboroff jokes he could close his eyes and trace the street by feel alone. Past rows of yard signs — “KAREN BASS RESIGN NOW” — and tattered American flags, grass and rose bushes push through the wreckage. Pompeii by the Pacific.
Jacob Soboroff.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
At the corner where he once ran a lemonade stand, Soboroff FaceTimed his mother on national television to show her what remained of the home he was born in. Before the fires, he had never quite turned the microphone on himself.
During the worst of it, with no one else around but the roar of the firestorm, “I had to hold it up to myself,” he says. “That was a different assignment than I’ve ever had to do.”
Soboroff is a boyish 42, with a mop of dark curls and round specs, equally comfortable in the field and at the anchor desk. J-school was never the plan. But he got a taste for scoops as an advance man to New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg. MTV News once seemed like the dream, but he always much preferred the loose, happy talk of public television’s Huell Howser. MSNBC took notice of his post-grad YouTube and HuffPost spots and hired him in 2015.
Ten years later, he was tiring of breaking news assignments and stashed away his “TV News cosplay gear” to ring in 2025. But when he saw the winds fanning the flames in the Palisades from NBC’s bureau at Universal Studios, he fished out a yellow Nomex fire jacket and hopped in a three-ton white Jeep with his camera crew.
The opening chapters of “Firestorm” read like a sci-fi thriller. All-caps warnings ricochet between agencies. Smoke columns appear. High-wind advisories escalate. Soboroff slingshots the reader from the Palisades fire station to the National Weather Service office, a presidential hotel room, toppled power lines in Altadena, helitankers above leveled streets and Governor Newsom’s emergency operations center.
Between live shots with producer Bianca Seward and cameramen Jean Bernard Rutagarama and Alan Rice, Soboroff fields frantic calls from both loved ones and the unexpected contacts, desperate for eyes on the ground. One is from Katie Miller, a former White House aide who cut contact after the reporter published “Separated,” his 2020 book on the Trump family separation policy. Miller, wife of Trump advisor Stephen Miller, asks him to check on her in-laws’ home. “You’re the only one I can see who is there,” she writes. Soboroff confirms the house is gone. “Palisades is stronger than politics in my book,” he replies. For a moment, old divisions vanish. It doesn’t last.
Jacob Soboroff at McNally Avenue and East Mariposa Street in Altadena.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
He returns home to Frogtown, changes out of smoke-soaked clothes and grabs a few hours’ sleep before heading back out. “Yet another body blow from the pounding relentlessness of the back-to-back-to-back-to-back fires,” he writes. Fellow native Palisadian and MS Now colleague Katy Tur flies in to tour the “neighborhood of our youth incinerated.”
After the fires, Soboroff moved straight into covering the immigration enforcement raids across Los Angeles. He struggled to connect with others, though. Maybe a little depressed. The book didn’t crystallize until April, after a conversation with Jonathan White, a captain in the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, who is now running for congress.
Fire, White tells him, has become the fastest-growing threat in America and, for many communities, the most immediate. Soboroff began tracking down people he’d met during the blaze — firefighters, scientists, residents, federal officials — and churned out pages on weekends. He kept the book tightly scoped, Jan. 7–24, ending with President Trump’s visit to the Palisades with Gov. Newsom. He saved the investigative journalism and political finger-pointing for other writers.
“For me, it’s a much more personal book,” Soboroff says. “It’s about experiencing what I came to understand as the fire of the future. It’s about people as much as politics.”
Looking back — and learning from the fire — became a form of release, he said, as much for him as for the city. “What happened here is a lesson for everybody all across the country.”
Rudi, an L.A. native, is a freelance art and culture writer. She’s at work on her debut novel about a stuttering student journalist.
1 of 5 | Nick Jonas (L) and Paul Rudd star in “Power Ballad,” in theaters Friday. Photo courtesy of Lionsgate
LOS ANGELES, May 28 (UPI) — Power Ballad, in select theaters Friday, introduces several provocative themes about creativity and the music industry. Unfortunately, it only pays them lip service and leaves many important ones on the table.
Rick Power (Paul Rudd) is the lead singer of an Irish wedding band who loses the party crowd when he plays his own originals from his U.S. touring days. At one wedding, the bride invites her childhood friend, former boy band singer Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas).
After singing a duet at the wedding, Danny and Rick spend the night together jamming in Danny’s room. Danny even leaves Rick a generous parting gift, though his promise that Rick can get in touch with him through his managers seems empty.
When Danny’s manager, Mac (Jack Reynor) rejects his new solo submissions, Danny records “How to Write a Song (Without You)” which Rick played for him during their night in Ireland. Rick finds out when he hears it in the mall six months later.
This raises poignant questions about authorship. Rick wrote the song but never recorded it. Danny recorded it and made it a hit, but claimed authorship.
The script by John Carney and Peter McDonald goes into thorough detail about how Rick cannot establish a record of writing the song prior to meeting Danny. He has no demos, never shared it with his wedding band, and even his wife (Marcella Plunkett) and daughter (Beth Fallon) can’t remember it out of all the music he’s played in the house.
It’s less surprising that Mac shuts down Rick’s claim and threatens legal retaliation, which a humble Irish wedding singer could never afford to battle. What’s more surprising is which obvious questions Carney and McDonald never think to ask.
Danny got a hit out of “How to Write a Song (Without You).” He can ride that for a bit but what is he going to do when he has to write another and all he’s got are the same trite songs the label rejected before?
Mac and Danny allude to an EP he released that included “How to Write a Song” but we don’t hear any of the other tracks. What B-sides did Mac accept to justify a tour off one hit single?
Danny tells his girlfriend (Havana Rose Liu) that he wrote the song for her. Not only does she never find out, question or appear again in the film, she also doesn’t find out when he later takes two groupies to the hot tub.
Instead, Power Ballad seems more invested in mocking Rick for claiming he had a hand in a hit. It must be hard to live with the song ubiquitous everywhere he goes, and especially when a married couple requests he perform it for them. It seems particularly heartless when Rick’s wife and daughter mock him for it. That they don’t believe he wrote it suggests far deeper conflict in that family, but the film never gets into that either.
Rick also lashes out too hard when he’s defensive. It becomes uncharacteristically bitter for a John Carney movie.
The ultimate confrontation between Rick and Danny is unsatisfying. Their jam session was genuine, two musicians bonding over the art when Rick does not care about Danny’s celebrity.
By the time they meet again, Danny’s arc is reductively “hurt people hurt people.” He’s insecure, and boy, would it have been interesting to see him put to the test to follow up “How to Write a Song” by… writing another song.
It also strains credulity that “How to Write a Song (Without You)” is the comeback hit for Danny. It’s fine but not notably better than his other demos.
Begin Again and Sing Street had original music that sounded like it could sell albums on its own. Once literally became a Broadway musical. By Power Ballad, we’ve got a song less catchy than fictional movie songs like “That Thing You Do” or “Way Back Into Love” from Music & Lyrics.
The film does contrast Rick’s heartfelt performance with Danny’s poser version. A sold out Madison Square Garden doesn’t know the difference, but the viewer of Power Ballad does.
Other bright spots are sporadic and disjointed. Jonas takes some gentle jabs at boy band music. They’d land harder if his character ultimately did man up.
They do portray diverse weddings. Fortunately, LGBTQ unions get screen time along with more heteronormative ones.
A nightmare visualizes Rick’s real insecurities comically. Rick and bandmate Sandy (McDonald) perpetuate a cute scheme to get past security, and their actual “in” with Danny was legitimately established previously. Sandy choosing music over a party girl hitting on him is endearing.
Carney’s earlier movies were genuinely uplifting and inspiring even with their share of heartbreaks. His film about struggling to regain earlier inspiration ultimately faces the same very dilemma and blows it like the movie’s antagonist does.
Lionsgate will release Power Ballad nationwide June 5.
Fred Topel, who attended film school at Ithaca College, is a UPI entertainment writer based in Los Angeles. He has been a professional film critic since 1999, a Rotten Tomatoes critic since 2001, and a member of the Television Critics Association since 2012 and the Critics Choice Association since 2023. Read more of his work in Entertainment.
Grizz Chapman, an actor best known for his role as Grizz on NBC’s Emmy-winning comedy “30 Rock,” has died. He was 52.
Chapman’s cousin, Donte Harrison, confirmed the actor’s death on social media.
“Life gave my cousin Grizz Chapman some heavy battles, but he fought them with strength and dignity until the very end,” Harrison wrote. “A lot of people knew him as the sitcom star from 30 Rock, but we knew the man behind the screen. A good heart, good energy, and somebody who made an impact in this life.
“After years of fighting illness and dialysis, he passed peacefully in his sleep on May 22nd, 2026. I’m thankful we got time to reconnect 2 months before his passing.”
Born Mack D. Chapman on April 16, 1974, in Brooklyn, N.Y., Chapman got the name Grizz while working as a security guard at nightclubs around New York. The claim to fame of the 7-foot-tall security guard turned actor would be portraying a character that resembled himself: a towering bodyguard named Grizz.
Chapman played the mild-mannered bodyguard across 80 episodes of the wildly popular sitcom “30 Rock,” which starred Tina Fey, Tracy Morgan and Alec Baldwin. Chapman’s character was part of the entourage of Tracy Jordan (played by Morgan).
Chapman told Cracked in 2024 that landing “30 Rock” was the “hardest/easiest audition I ever had in my life.”
But it wasn’t until the second season of the show that Chapman felt he really broke through as a performer. On Episode 210, he performs a rendition of “Midnight Train to Georgia” alongside the veteran ensemble. “That showed so many levels of our talents — we got a chance to dance, we got a chance to sing, we got a chance to take direction and to be funny.”
In addition to acting in various projects, including the 2014 film “The Cobbler,” which starred Adam Sandler, and the 2016 thriller “Money Monster,” starring George Clooney and Julia Roberts, Chapman was an advocate for the National Kidney Foundation.
The actor battled high blood pressure and kidney disease and struggled with his weight for years, and in 2009, he announced he was seeking a donor for a kidney transplant. During an appearance on “The Dr. Oz Show,” the actor said, “I don’t want to go through this forever.”
Chapman told Dr. Oz that he’d coped with the news by acknowledging it was “a scary situation” but deciding to “face it one way or another.”
When Dr. Oz asked him what he wished for, the actor said, “I want to stay alive.”
Chapman spent nearly two years undergoing dialysis treatments three days a week for 4½ hours a day while filming “30 Rock” and hoping for a donor. In the process, he lost more than 150 pounds, hoping to be fit enough for the procedure. After the episode of “Dr. Oz” aired, a fan of Chapman’s, Ryan Perkins, flew from Arizona to New York to meet the actor. Perkins, then in his early 20s, knew he wanted to do something that could change someone’s life.
“I was emotional. I was excited. I wanted to scream. It was exciting to meet someone with that kind of willingness to help,” Chapman told the East Valley Tribune.
“How do you ever repay someone for something like that? You can’t. It’s not like borrowing $20 from someone and telling them you’re going to give it back. It’s something that you can never repay someone for.”
BY WYATT ALLISON
In 1976, Dustin Hoffman was the star of a film called Marathon Man, that followed a hotshot Columbia grad embroiled in a plot through his brother, with an evil Nazi war dentist played by the stage/screen legend Laurence Olivier. The film is regarded as one of the best examples of a 1970s paranoia-thriller. Now, 50 years removed from 1976, comes Tuner – a film directed by Oscar award winning documentarian Daniel Roher — also with Dustin Hoffman — that plays like something a little bit mysterious but intriguing, as you see its title on a summer night theater marquee.
Tuner follows Niki White (Leo Woodall), a talented piano tuner with a unique and meticulous auditory condition. As he trails New York City’s streets, hallowed concert halls, and brownstone neighborhoods with his blunt and charismatic mentor Harry Horowitz (Dustin Hoffman), Niki encounters a rotating cast of clients, including Ruthie (Havana Rose Liu), a keen piano student who challenges his moral complexity.
When security contractor Uri (Lior Raz) learns Niki’s hypersensitive hearing is worth more for cracking safes than for opening Yamahas, he offers Niki a dangerous opportunity that could help Harry and his devoted wife Marla (Tony Award–winner Tovah Feldshuh) manage their suffocating medical debt.
As Niki is drawn deeper into the criminal underworld with Uri and his crew, his relationship with Ruthie is threatened, entangling him in a dangerous side hustle that gives his life some unfortunate obstacles.
I caught Tuner back in September of last year at the Toronto International Film Festival, and it really brought the house down. The slick, watchable cadence of this old-fashioned thriller is read like the box of an elevated frozen pizza — perhaps Rao’s? You know exactly what you’re getting into, and chances are you’ll be fairly satisfied and full by the time for dessert.
Director Roher won the Best Documentary Oscar for Navalny, a 2022 film about the poisoning of Russian journalist Alexei Navalny — who was critical about the government and leadership of Vladimir Putin. In Roher’s first narrative film, his guerilla-esque foundation is seen plenty as Tuner unfolds a lot like a documentary. The camera feels invisible, and each character plays off one another to a natural degree.
For Leo Woodall, the performance as Niki is carefully crafted and another entry into the “sad boy” with a talent gauntlet. His hearing gift is utterly believable, and coupled with the exceptional sound design, it’s hard not to find yourself right with Niki as he cracks safes and tries to get the girl. It’s a performance that any young actor should be bidding for, since genre thrillers like this tend to have a longer lifespan in the zeitgeist.
Black Bear Pictures, the independent film distributor behind Christy, could really use a hit. Much like Tuner, the studio is a great example of why more risks should be taken on smaller budget films with some recognizable faces in it. In a theatrical setting that can be clouded out by blockbuster, IP-driven filmmaking, Tuner is something worth seeing on a Friday night at the movies.
Tuner
Directed by Daniel Roher
Regal Downtown West
Released on Friday, May 29, 2026
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