Lifestyle
How to have the best Sunday in L.A., according to Antony Starr
New Zealand-born actor Antony Starr, best known to American audiences as arch-villain Homelander from the Prime Video superhero parody “The Boys,” says that although he’s lived in Los Angeles for the better part of a decade, his busy shooting schedules have kept him far afield for long stretches.
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
“The Boys,” now in the middle of production on its fifth and final season, shoots in Toronto, and Starr’s new film, “G20” — which starts streaming on Prime Video April 10 — was shot on location in Cape Town, South Africa. “So whatever time I have in L.A., I like to make the most of it,” he told The Times in a recent interview. “Because it’s my home now and I love it.”
That’s why he was enthusiastic to share what he cautioned in advance was a super-ambitious ideal Sunday itinerary.
“There are going to be some ground rules,” he said. “This is a hypothetical, so there’s going to be some time-jumping back and forth like a Marvel film, because I’m going to get it all in. [Also] there are no calories and there’s no cholesterol, OK?”
With these ground rules agreed to, Starr began to sketch out the following supes-worthy Sunday.
This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for length and clarity.
6 a.m.: “Waking Up” with the sun
I love making coffee first thing in the morning [right] before the sun comes up. And I meditate every morning. It’s an incredible way to start the day. I use an app called “Waking Up” by Sam Harris. It’s basically a library of different people taking you through guided meditations. It sounds incredibly pretentious, [but] it sets me up for the day. Then I let the dogs in[to the bedroom] and have about half an hour to just chill.
8:30 a.m.: Saddle up the Sprinter
I have a 2005 Dodge Sprinter camper van, which I’ve had since just before COVID-19. It’s been fitted out by VanCraft in San Diego, and they do a hell of a good job. It’s completely self-sufficient. It’s got a good hot shower in the back, it’s got a little kitchen and it’s got surfboard storage, which is good because I’m a surfer.
I’ve got two super mutts, Maxine and her annoying little brother, Oliver, who is from Tijuana, Mexico. I just adopted Ollie last year from a place called Pups Without Borders in Van Nuys who do an incredible job [rescuing pets]. So we all load into the van and hit the road.
9 a.m.: Pop over to Uncle Paulie’s for a Prosciutto
First I head to Uncle Paulie’s on Third Street. There’s a [sandwich there called the Prosciutto], which is just prosciutto, basil, mozzarella and a little bit of balsamic drizzle. So I get that [for later] — it’s just the first of several food stops — and then I head to King’s Road Cafe, where I’ll probably get an Americano and a croissant.
10 a.m.: A side trip to Sidecar Doughnuts
After that, we’re going to head up north, but we have to stop at Sidecar Doughnuts in Santa Monica first. My favorite is the huckleberry [doughnut]. It’s pink and got all these little bits and bobs on it, and it’s absolutely delicious. So I get that and some more coffee.
11 a.m.: Catch some waves
There’s a place in Malibu where you’re right on the border of Ventura [County] called County Line Beach. [For my ideal Sunday] there are just enough people in the water that the odds are that if a shark attacks, it might not be me. And I’ll surf for maybe an hour and a half.
If I don’t go there, I’d go to [North Beach at] Leo Carrillo [State Park], which is a nice little spot because the surf breaks really well there and it’s a dog[-friendly] beach as well. Everyone will be thrilled to know that the van is solar-power ventilated so the dogs are in wonderful shape and not locked in a stuffy car. The dogs love that beach. So we might spend an hour or two there.
1:30 p.m.: Reel in some fish and chips at Neptune’s Net
They’d take a nap while I drive up to Neptune’s Net. I’d definitely get something deep-fried with a side of chips — probably the fish and chips — and then maybe get back in the water for another 45 minutes [near there] before heading back to L.A. And, since it’s a semi-road trip, I forgot to mention that there has to be music as well.
I make a playlist that feels appropriate and character-based for every job that I do, and since the premiere of “G20” is coming up, I found my playlist for that and now I’m obsessing over it again. It’s got Filter’s “Hey Man Nice Shot” on it, some Danzig, Foo Fighters, a New Zealand band called Headless Chickens, Iggy Pop, Joy Division, Nine Inch Nails, Queens of the Stone Age, a little bit of Rammstein. It’s quite hard and quite moody — a lot like my character in the movie.
4 p.m.: Catch a flick at IPIC
There’s a [movie theater] I’ve only been to a few times called IPIC Theaters [in Westwood]; it’s got super-comfortable chairs and a dine-in option as well. I’m not that interested in the food part, but I will completely overload on popcorn — as many refills as I can get. It’s my Kryptonite. But on this [ideal Sunday] it won’t make me feel sick.
The last movie I saw was probably “Nosferatu” — though I’m not sure if I saw it there or somewhere else. I don’t get to the movies as much as I’d like, and I thought this movie was good for all the reasons other people didn’t like it.
6 p.m. Go full Princess and the Pea
Once I get out of there, it’s probably nap time because basically, if I wasn’t going out on this particular Sunday, I would have spent the whole day watching movies in bed. I went crazy recently and turned my bed into a full nest — I think it must be because I’m getting older — so I’ve got one of those memory-foam mattresses and recently found this blanket that’s like a [cross between] a quilt and a big super-soft throw. [And] all of a sudden I’ve turned into the Princess and the Pea. If I don’t wake up from that [nap and sleep through the night] it could, realistically be the end of the day. It’s kind of a roll of the dice. [Otherwise] there are two options.
7 p.m.: More movies or motor to El Compadre
Option A would be that I wake up, roll over, flick the TV on and put on a movie. My favorites are “The Mission” and “Goodfellas,” so it would probably be one of those two. [Option B would be] I drag my raggedy butt out of bed, call a couple of friends and head to a [restaurant] not too far away from me called El Compadre [in Hollywood].
It’s simple, there’s no pretense, there’s no BS. I love their booths, it feels like it’s been there [forever] and they have a live Mexican band. They’ve got a shrimp cocktail there that, when it comes out, it’s like a meal in itself. It reminds me of the shrimp cocktail at this little chain back in New Zealand called Cobb & Co. that my parents used to take us to.
8:30 p.m: Circle back to that doughnut
Because I’m only 20% to 30% social animal, I’m done by 8:30 [p.m.]. An hour and a half is quite a long time for me to socialize. Then it’s [home and] more dogs. They come in and are allowed up on the bed.
There’s a good chance that there’s some kind of sugar at the end of the day. Probably some hot chocolate — I make my own because I don’t like it too sweet. It’s basically just cacao [powder], milk and a little bit of sweetener. And that’s probably when that Sidecar doughnut [I’ve been carrying around all day] comes in. Then it would probably be lights out at about 10:30 p.m. — I might not even finish a movie — because I tend to get up pretty early in the morning.
Lifestyle
The Frayed Edge: Are Fashion’s Sustainability Efforts Misplaced?
Lifestyle
‘Wait Wait’ for December 13, 2025: With Not My Job guest Lucy Dacus
Lucy Dacus performs at Spotlight: Lucy Dacus at GRAMMY Museum L.A. Live on October 08, 2025 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Rebecca Sapp/Getty Images for The Recording Academy)
Rebecca Sapp/Getty Images
hide caption
toggle caption
Rebecca Sapp/Getty Images
This week’s show was recorded in Chicago with host Peter Sagal, guest judge and scorekeeper Alzo Slade, Not My Job guest Lucy Dacus and panelists Adam Burke, Helen Hong, and Tom Bodett. Click the audio link above to hear the whole show.
Who’s Alzo This Time
Mega Media Merger; Cars, They’re Just Like Us; The Swag Gap
Panel Questions
An Hourly Marriage
Bluff The Listener
Our panelists tell three stories about a new TV show making headlines, only one of which is true.
Not My Job: Lucy Dacus answers our questions about boy geniuses
Singer-songwriter Lucy Dacus, one third of the supergroup boygenius, plays our game called, “boygenius, meet Boy Geniuses” Three questions about child prodigies.
Panel Questions
Bedroom Rules; Japan Solves its Bear Problem
Limericks
Alzo Slade reads three news-related limericks: NHL Superlatives; Terrible Mouthwash; The Most Holy and Most Stylish
Lightning Fill In The Blank
All the news we couldn’t fit anywhere else
Predictions
Our panelists predict what will be the next big merger in the news.
Lifestyle
L.A. Affairs: I had casually known her for 5 years. Was I finally ready to make a move?
In Fairfax, nestled on Beverly Boulevard near Pan Pacific Park, I ran a modest yet beloved pan-Asian restaurant called Buddha’s Belly. More than a place to eat, it was a gathering spot where our team and loyal regulars created an atmosphere of warmth and community. Every day, we exchanged stories about our guests, the generous, the quirky and the kind souls whose smiles lit up our little corner of L.A.
For five years, one regular stood out. The Buddha’s Belly team referred to her as “Aloha.” She had a familiar and beautiful face and she adored our shao bing finger sandwiches and pad Thai. During those five years, all I ever said to her was: “How’s your pad Thai?,” “Nice to see you” and “Thanks for coming in!” Her friendly smile and presence were the highlights of our routine interactions.
Then one hectic afternoon changed everything. Rushing to a meeting and about to leap into my car, I caught a glimpse of Lynda sitting at Table 64, smiling at me through our bamboo-lined patio (a.k.a. “bamboo forest”). I went over to say a quick hi.
“How’s your pad Thai?” I asked, and then I was off.
A couple blocks from the restaurant, I was struck by the feeling that our brief encounter was different this time. There was a spark — a look in her eye. So I did something out of character: I called the manager on duty and asked him to go to Table 64, Seat 3, and ask for her number.
The next day, I found a business card on my desk with Lynda’s cell number. It was on! That small gesture signaled the start of something extraordinary.
Eager to seize the moment, I called and invited her out for a date that same weekend. However, it was her birthday month, and that meant her calendar was booked solid for the next three to four weekends. Not wanting to let time slip away, I proposed an unconventional plan: to join me and an octogenarian friend at our annual opening night at the Hollywood Bowl. Little did I know this would turn out to be equal parts amazing and mortifying. My friend was so excited — she had no filter.
Shortly after picking up our dinner at Joan’s on Third, my friend started asking Lynda questions, first light questions like “Where are you from?” and “What do you do?” Then once seated at the Bowl, her questions continued. But now they were more pointed questions: “Have you ever been married?” and “Do you have kids?”
Amazingly, Lynda didn’t flinch, and her honesty, unfiltered yet graceful, was refreshing and alluring. She had been through life’s fires and knew that when it’s a fit, it should not be based on any false pretense. Although I did manage to get a few questions in that evening, I still chuckle at the memory of myself, sitting back, legs extended with a note pad in hand taking notes!
After dropping her off, she didn’t know if she would hear from me, as she didn’t know anything about me. But I didn’t wait three days to contact Lynda. I called her the next day to make plans to see her again. With it still being her birthday month, I asked her to join me that night for a surf film at the Ford with my best buddy. She said yes, and there we were on another chaperoned date.
By our third date, we were finally alone. We ventured to an underground gem affectionately dubbed the “Blade Runner” restaurant. Hidden on Pico Boulevard behind no obvious sign and characterized by hood-free mesquite grills and stacked wine crates, the place exuded a secret charm. Sharing a bottle of wine with the owner, our conversation deepened, and the electricity between Lynda and me became undeniable.
Our story took another turn when I was opening a new bar named Copa d’Oro (or Cup of Gold) in Santa Monica that was similar to a bar down the street called Bar Copa. The owner of Bar Copa invited me to discuss whether the concept was going to be too like his own. While we waited in the packed room, I instinctively put my hand around the small of Lynda’s back to steady us from the ebb and flow of the crowd of people around us. The intensity of our closeness and the energy between us was palpable, and we soon found ourselves at a quieter bar called Schatzi on Main where we had our first kiss.
Our courtship continued, and it would be defined by ease and grace. There were no mind games or calculations. One of us would ask whether the other was free, and it was an easy yes. Our desire was to be together.
I fondly remember being at a Fatburger not far from where Lynda lived, and I phoned her to ask if she wanted to sit with me as I scarfed down a Double Kingburger with chili and egg (yum!), and she said yes. By the time she arrived, I was halfway through eating the sandwich. But I was practicing a new way of eating a sloppy burger that my brother taught me. Why bother to continuously wipe your mouth when you’re only going to mess it up with the next bite? To save time and energy, wipe your mouth once at the end.
I was practicing this new technique with a smear of sauce on my face, and it didn’t faze her one bit. I could only imagine what her internal monologue was!
After six months of effortless companionship, I asked Lynda to move in, and a year later, while at Zephyr’s Bench, a serene and cherished hiking spot in the Santa Monica Mountains behind Bel-Air, I asked her to marry me.
Now, more than 17 years later, with two beautiful boys and our pandemic dog in tow, I can say I found my own aloha right here in the vibrant chaos of Los Angeles.
The author lives in Santa Monica with his wife and two children. They go to the Hollywood Bowl every chance they can. He’s also aspiring to make it into the Guinness World Records book.
L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
-
Alaska1 week agoHowling Mat-Su winds leave thousands without power
-
Texas1 week agoTexas Tech football vs BYU live updates, start time, TV channel for Big 12 title
-
Washington5 days agoLIVE UPDATES: Mudslide, road closures across Western Washington
-
Iowa1 week agoMatt Campbell reportedly bringing longtime Iowa State staffer to Penn State as 1st hire
-
Miami, FL1 week agoUrban Meyer, Brady Quinn get in heated exchange during Alabama, Notre Dame, Miami CFP discussion
-
Cleveland, OH1 week agoMan shot, killed at downtown Cleveland nightclub: EMS
-
Iowa1 day agoHow much snow did Iowa get? See Iowa’s latest snowfall totals
-
World7 days ago
Chiefs’ offensive line woes deepen as Wanya Morris exits with knee injury against Texans