Lifestyle
Don't get stuck in an age silo: 6 L.A. friend groups on making intergenerational bonds
On a bench near the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market in July, Peggy Cheng recalled the time a television writer pitched her a wacky sitcom centered around the unlikely scenario of a young woman who had befriended her elderly neighbors.
Cheng, who was working in TV development at the time, wasn’t impressed.
“She thought it was so unique and I was like, ‘Hmm,’ ” said the 40-year-old Brentwood resident, laughing.
After all, the writer could have been describing Cheng’s life. Her best friend, Karen Lektzian, lives in the unit above hers and is 24 years her senior. They even had a meet-cute: A leaky toilet brought them together. But their difference in age has not stopped the two from being active participants in each other’s lives. Cheng spent months helping Lektzian plan her wedding. Lektzian picked Cheng up from the hospital after surgery. And they’re both always up for a last-minute trip to the local Ralph’s.
“I share everything with her,” Cheng said. “She’s one of the few friends who knows every facet of my life.”
Lektzian, a retired IT consultant, says the feeling is mutual. “Life is more fun when we’re together. I think that sums it up.”
As it turns out, age-gap friendships like Cheng and Lektzian’s may be more common than many of us think. A 2019 AARP survey found that nearly four in 10 adults have a close friend who is at least 15 years older or younger than they are. Even more are interested in cultivating these types of friendships. Nearly eight in 10 adults want to spend more time with people outside their age groups, according to a report from the Washington, D.C.-based organization Generations United.
Although research on the benefits of intergenerational friendships is nascent, several studies suggest that older adults who regularly interact with younger people experience less anxiety, depression and cognitive decline than their more age-siloed peers. For younger folks, having friends outside their generation may help reduce both internal and external ageism, and address feelings of isolation and loneliness.
“From both sides there are individual level benefits that have the potential to improve health and well-being,” said Lauren Dunning, director of future of aging at the Milken Institute.
But ask those who are in age-gap friendships what they like about it, and chances are they’ll simply tell you they are in it for the enjoyment and pleasure of spending time with someone who “gets” them.
“There’s this exchange of ideas and knowledge, and this recognition that having fun is just as much a part of later life as it is for younger life,” said Catherine Elliott O’Dare, a professor in social policy at Trinity College in Dublin who studies the benefits of intergenerational friendships.
We spoke to six intergenerational friend groups in L.A. about how they met, what they do together and the benefits of their age difference.
Friends Justin Beverly, 26, Jose Bautista, 73, and Nicholas Baraban, 33, hang out at Johnny Carson Park in Burbank.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Justin Beverly, 26, student. Jose Bautista, 73, retail worker. Nicholas Baraban, 33, retail worker
How did you meet?
Bautista: “We all used to work at the Hobby Lobby and these guys used to have beers after work. One day I invited myself along, but on one condition — we have to play [music].”
Favorite activities:
Playing music, going to the batting cage, open mic nights, barbecues.
What makes the friendship special?
Baraban: “I had a best friend who passed away — a bandmate. Jose helped me start playing with other people again. He was the first person I opened up to about playing out again.”
Bautista: “We’ve become best friends. I can rely on these guys for anything and I know they’ll come through. And me too. They can count on me for anything.”
Best part of being in an age-gap friendship?
Beverly: “Getting everyone’s perspective and point of view. People have more stories to tell from different times. It gives an interesting dynamic.”
Bautista: “I don’t feel an age difference with them. I don’t know how a 73-year-old is supposed to act.”
Baraban: “I don’t feel an age difference so much.”
Friends Jeannine Ball, 69, left, and Antoine Cason, 38, sit in the bleachers of Lakewood High School’s football stadium in Lakewood.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
How did you meet?
Ball: “My son Josh was a waterboy for the football team at Los Alamitos High. Antoine walked past us before school one morning and says, ‘Hey J-Dub. How are you doing?’ I said, ‘Who was that?’ and he said, ‘That’s the nicest guy on the football team.”
Cason: “Then I took your photography class senior year and after I went to college I’d come back and see everyone and it just grew from there.”
Favorite activities:
Football activities, going to dinner, and spending time with mutual friends and each other’s families.
What makes the friendship special?
Ball: “He inspires me every time I see him. He lifts up people around him, his personality obviously, but also he cares about people. He gives back.”
Cason: “Every time I’m around her I feel the genuine love and care. She really cares. Sometimes you don’t feel that way around people. And my family loves her too.”
Best part of being in an age-gap friendship?
Ball: “I want to stay relevant for every day of my life. He helps me do that. And it’s not just the age difference. He is a different color than I am, a different culture. I love understanding that better. I can’t say I understand it totally but hopefully it makes me communicate better with everyone as a result of that.”
Cason: “For me — especially where I’ve been, what I’ve done — I feel safe with her. I like to stay as private as I can because everything I’ve done has been in the public. And I just feel safe. That’s very important.”
For the record:
9:49 a.m. Aug. 21, 2024An earlier version of this article misidentified an interview subject as Jeannine Bell, and Antoine Cason as a former NFL quarterback. Her name is Jeannine Ball and Cason is a former NFL cornerback.
Flora Grewe, 4 1/2, hands her friend Mary Ota, 105, a handful of flowers in Carpinteria.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Flora Grewe, 4 ½, student. Mary Ota, 105, retired medical office worker
How did you meet?
Ota: “Flora and her family lived at the end of the street where I used to go for a walk. I would sit on my walker and rest before turning around and she would come and bring me flowers. Then she started coming over and we just became friends. Now we get together a lot.”
Favorite activities:
Doing puzzles, getting matching manicures, giving presents.
What makes the friendship special?
Ota: “She is a sweet little girl, always smiling and just adorable. At first she was quite shy, but what was adorable is she would write notes and bring them to me. She would always smile when she brought me things, and even if they were just weeds, I would put them in water.”
Grewe: “I don’t even know! I just like her!”
Best part of being in an age-gap friendship?
Ota: “A friend like Flora keeps things lively. Young people are so full of life. And connecting with young people makes you recall when you were young and your children were young.”
Grewe: “She let me have two cupcakes at her birthday party. She’s nice.”
Patricia Smith, 74, and Adam Fowler, 43, sit outside Patricia’s apartment.
(Zoe Cranfill / Los Angeles Times)
patricia smith 73, retired faculty support at UCLA, yoga teacher. Adam Fowler, 43, consultant
How did you meet?
Fowler: “I took a position in Global Economics and Management at UCLA while I was applying to PhD programs. The first day the person I was replacing warned me about the woman down the hall. I hadn’t been in Los Angeles terribly long and I was like, ‘Oh, God, I hope this isn’t a nightmare.’ But we just hit it off.”
smith: “He endeared me to him with the ‘Yes, ma’am.’ It reminded me of the way I was brought up. And his Southern accent was the cutest thing in the world.”
Favorite activities:
Picnics at the Hollywood Bowl, movie nights at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, talking on the phone, fixing up smith’s apartment.
What makes the friendship special?
Fowler: “She made it comfortable to grow as a human. I was from the boonies of Arkansas, trying to figure out who I was in terms of coming out as gay, pursuing a PhD from a family where I was already the first generation of college students, and this was a person who was so secure in who she was and kind and generous.”
smith: “He was always so freaking smart, but he was smart without being arrogant. That was one of the more endearing qualities I recognized in him right away.”
Best part of being in an age- gap friendship?
smith: “He helps me to stay young. He turns me onto stuff. When I don’t know what’s going on, I just call him and he sets me straight. He helps me to pay attention — not to mention that he does [stuff] for me. That’s priceless.”
Fowler: “It’s such a source of context and wisdom. Whenever you get spun up on something small in your own life, patricia can either help you laugh about it or put it in some broader context. And just everything she’s done, moving here from Chicago, things she’s been through, all of that is so very interesting. I’d say it’s the resilience for me.”
Marlo Wamsganz, left, 54, and Norma Hench, right, 83, have been friends for years. The pair like to swap books, plant clippings, hike and visit botanic gardens.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
Marlo Wamsganz, 54, designer. Norma Hench, 83, retired teacher
How did you meet?
Wamsganz: “We were both living in Vermont and I was dating her partner Glenn’s son. The first time we met we were already walking around her gardens. Then I moved on from that relationship and Glenn passed away. We lost touch, not because we didn’t love each other, but because life goes on. “
Hench: “It took me a full year to get my act together after Glenn died and move to L.A. where my son lives. I flew from Vermont to JFK and, lo and behold, there’s Marlo!”
Wamsganz: “We were both relocating to L.A. and when we got on the plane I believe we were in the same row. I thought, ‘This is wild.’ ”
Favorite activities:
Visiting botanic gardens, trying new foods, hiking in Malibu, visiting museums and swapping books.
What makes the friendship special?
Wamsganz: “Norma loves to learn new things, she’s up for anything, she’ll taste anything, and she also likes to dig deep into things. I love how positive she is and she speaks her mind. She’s very fair and believes in rights for all people. And she’s a great conversationalist.”
Hench: “I want to tell a story: We were crossing Ventura Boulevard — this big multi lane street, and right in the middle of the crosswalk there was a praying mantis. And without missing a beat, didn’t Marlo reach down and pick up this praying mantis and carry it with her across to the other side of the street and put it on the lawn? Now, doesn’t that speak volumes?”
Best part of being in an age-gap friendship?
Hench: “I never think about an age difference. I’m not even aware of that. Maybe I’m in denial.”
Wamsganz: “I don’t either. Although I do ask her some things. Like, how long do hot flashes go on?”
Friends Peggy Cheng, 40, left, and Karen Lektzian, 64, shop at the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Peggy Cheng, 40, entrepreneur. Karen Lektzian, 64, retired IT consultant
How did you meet?
Cheng: “Her master toilet flooded my unit, and it was easier to go through my unit to fix it. I was working really long hours at that time, so I was just like, ‘Yup! OK! Bye!’ She was like, ‘Can I get you any gift cards or a dinner?’ and I was just like, ‘No! I don’t really expect to interact with you.’ ”
Lektzian: “The remediation took three weeks, and over the course of those three weeks we had quite a few interactions, so we got to know each other a little bit. I invited her to dinner and with the proximity we started to run into each other more often and it was so easy to just say, ‘Want to pop up for a drink? Or, do you want to cook dinner tonight?’ ”
Favorite activities?
Traveling, cooking, eating out, running errands.
What makes the friendship special?
Lektzian: “We just have so much fun together. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing. And we have so many common interests. It’s just so natural. Life is more fun with her.”
Cheng: “I like that I can share everything with her. She’s one of the few friends who knows every facet of my life. I can go to her for advice and if it’s serious she will just switch into that mode and then immediately we will have the giggles.”
What is the best part of being in an age-gap friendship?
Lektzian: “I don’t really notice when I’m with my friends my own age versus Peggy.”
Cheng: “I don’t feel it either. She’s equally energetic and way more fit than I am!”
Lifestyle
Timothée Chalamet brings a lot to the table in ‘Marty Supreme’
Timothée Chalamet plays a shoe salesman who dreams of becoming the greatest table tennis player in the world in Marty Supreme.
A24
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A24
Last year, while accepting a Screen Actors Guild award for A Complete Unknown, Timothée Chalamet told the audience, “I want to be one of the greats; I’m inspired by the greats.” Many criticized him for his immodesty, but I found it refreshing: After all, Chalamet has never made a secret of his ambition in his interviews or his choice of material.
In his best performances, you can see both the character and the actor pushing themselves to greatness, the way Chalamet did playing Bob Dylan in A Complete Unknown, which earned him the second of two Oscar nominations. He’s widely expected to receive a third for his performance in Josh Safdie’s thrilling new movie, Marty Supreme, in which Chalamet pushes himself even harder still.
Chalamet plays Marty Mauser, a 23-year-old shoe salesman in 1952 New York who dreams of being recognized as the greatest table-tennis player in the world. He’s a brilliant player, but for a poor Lower East Side Jewish kid like Marty, playing brilliantly isn’t enough: Simply getting to championship tournaments in London and Tokyo will require money he doesn’t have.

And so Marty, a scrappy, speedy dynamo with a silver tongue and inhuman levels of chutzpah, sets out to borrow, steal, cheat, sweet-talk and hustle his way to the top. He spends almost the entire movie on the run, shaking down friends and shaking off family members, hatching new scams and fleeing the folks he’s already scammed, and generally trying to extricate himself from disasters of his own making.
Marty is very loosely based on the real-life table-tennis pro Marty Reisman. But as a character, he’s cut from the same cloth as the unstoppable antiheroes of Uncut Gems and Good Time, both of which Josh Safdie directed with his brother Benny. Although Josh directed Marty Supreme solo, the ferocious energy of his filmmaking is in line with those earlier New York nail-biters, only this time with a period setting. Most of the story unfolds against a seedy, teeming postwar Manhattan, superbly rendered by the veteran production designer Jack Fisk as a world of shadowy game rooms and rundown apartments.
Early on, though, Marty does make his way to London, where he finagles a room at the same hotel as Kay Stone, a movie star past her 1930s prime. She’s played by Gwyneth Paltrow, in a luminous and long-overdue return to the big screen. Marty is soon having a hot fling with Kay, even as he tries to swindle her ruthless businessman husband, Milton Rockwell, played by the Canadian entrepreneur and Shark Tank regular Kevin O’Leary.
Marty Supreme is full of such ingenious, faintly meta bits of stunt casting. The rascally independent filmmaker Abel Ferrara turns up as a dog-loving mobster. The real-life table-tennis star Koto Kawaguchi plays a Japanese champ who beats Marty in London and leaves him spoiling for a rematch. And Géza Röhrig, from the Holocaust drama Son of Saul, pops up as Marty’s friend Bela Kletzki, a table tennis champ who survived Auschwitz. Bela tells his story in one of the film’s best and strangest scenes, a death-camp flashback that proves crucial to the movie’s meaning.
In one early scene, Marty brags to some journalists that he’s “Hitler’s worst nightmare.” It’s not a stretch to read Marty Supreme as a kind of geopolitical parable, culminating in an epic table-tennis match, pitting a Jewish player against a Japanese one, both sides seeking a hard-won triumph after the horrors of World War II.

The personal victory that Marty seeks would also be a symbolic one, striking a blow for Jewish survival and assimilation — and regeneration: I haven’t yet mentioned a crucial subplot involving Marty’s close friend Rachel, terrifically played by Odessa A’zion, who’s carrying his child and gets sucked into his web of lies.
Josh Safdie, who co-wrote and co-edited the film with Ronald Bronstein, doesn’t belabor his ideas. He’s so busy entertaining you, as Marty ping-pongs from one catastrophe to the next, that you’d be forgiven for missing what’s percolating beneath the movie’s hyperkinetic surface.
Marty himself, the most incorrigible movie protagonist in many a moon, has already stirred much debate; many find his company insufferable and his actions indefensible. But the movies can be a wonderfully amoral medium, and I found myself liking Marty Mauser — and not just liking him, but actually rooting for him to succeed. It takes more than a good actor to pull that off. It takes one of the greats.

Lifestyle
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Lifestyle
Hungarian filmmaker Béla Tarr — known for bleak, existential movies — has died
Hungarian director Béla Tarr at the Berlin International Film Festival in 2011.
Andreas Rentz/Getty Images
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Béla Tarr, the Hungarian arthouse director best known for his bleak, existential and challenging films, including Sátántangó and Werckmeister Harmonies, has died at the age of 70. The Hungarian Filmmakers’ Association shared a statement on Tuesday announcing Tarr’s passing after a serious illness, but did not specify further details.
Tarr was born in communist-era Hungary in 1955 and made his filmmaking debut in 1979 with Family Nest, the first of nine feature films that would culminate in his 2011 film The Turin Horse. Damnation, released in 1988 at the Berlin International Film Festival, was his first film to draw global acclaim, and launched Tarr from a little-known director of social dramas to a fixture on the international film festival circuit.
Tarr’s reputation for films tinged with misery and hard-heartedness, distinguished by black-and-white cinematography and unusually long sequences, only grew throughout the 1990s and 2000s, particularly after his 1994 film Sátántangó. The epic drama, following a Hungarian village facing the fallout of communism, is best known for its length, clocking in at seven-and-a-half hours.
Based on the novel by Hungarian writer László Krasznahorkai, who won the Nobel Prize in Literature last year and frequently collaborated with Tarr, the film became a touchstone for the “slow cinema” movement, with Tarr joining the ranks of directors such as Andrei Tarkovsky, Chantal Akerman and Theo Angelopoulos. Writer and critic Susan Sontag hailed Sátántangó as “devastating, enthralling for every minute of its seven hours.”
Tarr’s next breakthrough came in 2000 with his film Werckmeister Harmonies, the first of three movies co-directed by his partner, the editor Ágnes Hranitzky. Another loose adaptation of a Krasznahorkai novel, the film depicts the strange arrival of a circus in a small town in Hungary. With only 39 shots making up the film’s two-and-a-half-hour runtime, Tarr’s penchant for long takes was on full display.
Like Sátántangó, it was a major success with both critics and the arthouse crowd. Both films popularized Tarr’s style and drew the admiration of independent directors such as Jim Jarmusch and Gus Van Sant, the latter of which cited Tarr as a direct influence on his films: “They get so much closer to the real rhythms of life that it is like seeing the birth of a new cinema. He is one of the few genuinely visionary filmmakers.”
The actress Tilda Swinton is another admirer of Tarr’s, and starred in the filmmaker’s 2007 film The Man from London. At the premiere, Tarr announced that his next film would be his last. That 2011 film, The Turin Horse, was typically bleak but with an apocalyptic twist, following a man and his daughter as they face the end of the world. The film won the Grand Jury Prize at the Berlin International Film Festival.
After the release of The Turin Horse, Tarr opened an international film program in 2013 called film.factory as part of the Sarajevo Film Academy. He led and taught in the school for four years, inviting various filmmakers and actors to teach workshops and mentor students, including Swinton, Van Sant, Jarmusch, Juliette Binoche and Gael García Bernal.
In the last years of his life, he worked on a number of artistic projects, including an exhibition at a film museum in Amsterdam. He remained politically outspoken throughout his life, condemning the rise of nationalism and criticizing the government of Hungarian leader Viktor Orbán.
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