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L.A. Affairs: I was new to Los Angeles. Was driving 70 miles one way for love a problem?

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L.A. Affairs: I was new to Los Angeles. Was driving 70 miles one way for love a problem?

I begrudgingly met my husband. I had been in L.A. for a short time and was keeping busy with the California lifestyle I had always dreamed of. With my doctorate in audiology, I had my first real job in the profession I had studied for many years. I also had my own apartment, complete with a complex pool surrounded by palm trees. I even bought a convertible that I could cruise top down year-round.

Having come from Canada, where winter is the most prominent season, being in Southern California felt more like a vacation than real life.

My weekdays were about work, so I decided to settle close to my office in Santa Clarita. I had the dream commute. I was two songs on the radio from my doorstep to the office. Also, Santa Clarita provided the perfect springboard for exploring SoCal on weekends. It was a quick jaunt to the beach on the 126. Or I could go north to the wine country or over to the desert or mountains depending on my mood or the weather.

I was single and excited to take advantage of all California had to offer. I wasn’t looking for love or a boyfriend. I loved dating and was excited about trying it in SoCal.

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My brother, who previously lived in Huntington Beach, kept bugging me about going south to hang out with a houseful of his friends — in Orange County!

Driving two hours south through L.A., traffic pending, to visit a rowdy house of people I didn’t know did not sound desirable, especially when I had so much of California to explore.

Therefore, the “open invitation” went unanswered.

That is, until my brother came to visit me. Upon his insistence and promise to drive, we went south to the Fountain Valley House. We arrived late on a Friday night and pulled up in front of a much larger house than I had expected. The house, as I would come to learn, had an ever-changing cast of characters as the jobs or relationships of its occupants changed. It was common to have guests or semi-permanent company parked on the couch.

Even the large master closet had no vacancy. It had been repurposed as a bedroom for one of the more permanent roommates.

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Peak season was the winter. A lot of the actual roommates had friends or soon-to-be roommates from northern states — guests who wouldn’t leave once they came to visit — looking to escape those snowy climates.

I am not (or was not?) one to believe in love at first sight but I remember the large wood panel door swinging open that first night and seeing Kirk for the first time. I love meeting new people but had never had a connection like the one I have with him before. He was attentive, honest and intellectual. He had previously lived in the house and moved out to live with a girlfriend in her apartment. After they broke up, he moved back into this crazy house.

He was in the kitchen, casually leaning back on the kitchen island wearing a striped zip-up hoodie that he still wears to this day.

For some reason, time stood still. I did not know that evening what we would grow to become. I just knew it was different from anything I’d experienced. We clicked. Although he was immediately interested in me, he knew where I lived and didn’t think a relationship with me would go anywhere.

But I knew better.

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After all, we had plenty in common. My brother and Kirk are pilots and ride motorcycles, so I was familiar with his hobbies and interests. He also loved cars, and I had just gotten my convertible. Our first real date was asking him to go for a drive and show me around. From that moment on, he became my new L.A. tour guide.

The two-hour drive I didn’t want to make became the drive the two of us did willingly, almost every weekend for five years. It was 70 miles one way, and traffic could be a beast. If I went south, the traffic was even worse, and I would leave Sunday night, which cut into our time together. The goodbyes were the worst, and we’d start feeling sad on Sunday afternoons. Although we technically lived in Greater L.A., it was next to impossible to get together on a weeknight and be back to work on time the next day.

If we felt like being social, I headed south. The Fountain Valley House was like a frat house.

There was always someone willing to go out or a party already planned on the premises. Mattress rides down the large entrance staircase were common as was fire twirling, juggling and unicycle riding.

The house was a literal circus at times as many of the regular household members were competitive unicyclers. If solitude was what we needed and we craved a relaxing weekend, we would head north to Santa Clarita.

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We would hike in the surrounding hills, drink wine and cook quiet meals together. We would order Thai food to be delivered to the community hot tub. (We were the only ones who used it.) Instead of a hangover brunch at the Sugar Shack Cafe in Huntington Beach, we would make pancakes together and pack a picnic for a day of bocce ball in the local park.

No matter where we ended up, the weekends were blissful. “But is this real life?” I wondered as I did all my laundry, shopping and cleaning during the week and absolutely nothing productive on the weekends.

With 70 miles between us, Kirk wanted to have daily phone calls to keep in touch, but as someone who despises talking on the phone, this was a true test of our relationship.

Thankfully we wanted to experience life together more than we wanted unending, magical, surreal weekends. We got engaged and then married. Best of all, my husband moved north, and although we still love to explore L.A., we can now share a quiet meal together — any day of the week.

The author is a writer and audiologist from Winnipeg, Canada. She lives in Santa Clarita and still tries not to do laundry on weekends. She can be reached at hbriyeo@gmail.com.

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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.

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Ryan Gosling is 'The Fall Guy' in this cheerfully nonsensical stuntman thriller

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Ryan Gosling is 'The Fall Guy' in this cheerfully nonsensical stuntman thriller

Ryan Gosling is Colt Seavers in The Fall Guy.

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Ryan Gosling is Colt Seavers in The Fall Guy.

Universal Pictures

From the 1933 action film Lucky Devils to the 1980 comedy-thriller The Stunt Man to Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood, filmmakers have long delighted in turning the camera on stunt performers, those professional daredevils who risk life and limb to make action scenes look convincing.

It’s a hard, often thankless job, which is why for years people have lobbied the motion picture academy to present an Oscar for stunt work. And of course, it’s a dangerous job: Just last month, while shooting the Eddie Murphy movie The Pickup, several crew members were injured during a stunt involving two rolling cars.

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There’s a lot of vehicular mayhem in the noisily diverting new action-comedy The Fall Guy, a feature-length reboot of the ’80s TV series. Ryan Gosling stars as a highly skilled stunt performer named Colt Seavers, who, despite his cynical film-noir-style voiceover, genuinely loves his job.

Colt loves movies and moviemaking, loves hurling himself off balconies and strapping himself into soon-to-be-totaled automobiles. Most of all, he loves Jody Moreno, an up-and-coming assistant director played by Emily Blunt, and she loves him right back.

Ryan Gosling and Emily Blunt star in The Fall Guy.

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Ryan Gosling and Emily Blunt star in The Fall Guy.

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Colt works mainly as a stunt double for Tom Ryder, a world-famous movie star played by a preening Aaron Taylor-Johnson. But when Colt suffers a life-threatening injury on the set, he quits the biz in despair and ghosts Jody for more than a year while he recovers. But then he learns that Jody is directing a big-budget sci-fi movie in Sydney and wants him to be Tom’s stunt double again. Upon arriving Down Under, however, Colt finds out that Jody did not ask for him and has no idea why he’s here.

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The reason for Colt’s appearance on the set is one mystery in a cheerfully nonsensical thriller plot devised by the screenwriter Drew Pearce. There’s also a body in a bathtub, an incriminating cell phone and several amusing side characters, including a busybody producer played by Hannah Waddingham of Ted Lasso fame.

Another key player is Colt’s best friend and stunt coordinator, Dan, played by the always excellent Winston Duke. In one endearing running gag, Colt and Dan keep quoting dialogue from classic films like The Last of the Mohicans, The Fugitive and The Lord of the Rings trilogy, all of which The Fall Guy giddily tries to outdo in its sheer volume of death-defying mayhem.

Before long, Colt isn’t just performing stunts. He’s forced to put his well-honed survival skills to good use off the set, whether he’s beating up thugs in a nightclub, punching villains in a helicopter or getting tossed around in the back of a speeding garbage truck. That’s one of several set-pieces that the director David Leitch opted to shoot using practical techniques, rather than CGI — a decision that gives this stunt-centric movie an undeniable integrity.

The Fall Guy is undoubtedly a passion project for Leitch, who once worked as a stunt double for actors including Brad Pitt and Jean-Claude Van Damme. (He nods to this by giving Colt a handy canine companion named Jean-Claude.) Leitch can direct action beautifully, as he did in the Charlize Theron smash-’em-up Atomic Blonde. But he can also go too flamboyantly over-the-top, as in sloppier recent efforts like Bullet Train and Hobbs & Shaw. The Fall Guy is better than those two, but it would have been better still with cleaner action, tighter editing and a running time south of two hours.

Blunt is such a good comedian and action star that it’s a shame she doesn’t get more to do in either department; Jody may be in the director’s chair, but as a character, she’s mainly a second banana. The Fall Guy is Gosling’s picture. Unlike the brooding, taciturn stuntmen the actor played in Drive and The Place Beyond the Pines, Colt is a wonderfully expressive goofball. There’s a moment here, after a fiery boat chase around Sydney Harbour, when Colt emerges triumphant from the water, clothes dripping and muscles bulging, while a euphoric cover of Kiss’ “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” surges for the umpteenth time on the soundtrack. It’s ridiculous and gloriously overwrought — and like the best-executed stunts, it comes perilously close to movie magic.

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Britney Spears Addresses Hotel Incident with Boyfriend, Moving to Boston

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Britney Spears Addresses Hotel Incident with Boyfriend, Moving to Boston

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Elisabeth Moss embraces her best role yet as a secret agent in 'The Veil'

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Elisabeth Moss embraces her best role yet as a secret agent in 'The Veil'

Elisabeth Moss plays British spy Imogen Salter in The Veil.

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Elisabeth Moss plays British spy Imogen Salter in The Veil.

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The new FX on Hulu series The Veil is a spy show about several different spy agencies – from the United States, England and France – all after the same goal. They want to discover the details of a suspected new Sept. 11-type terrorist plot, reportedly emanating from the Middle East, and stop it before it happens.

Sometimes these organizations work together – sometimes they work against one another. But throughout, the agent who is most crucial to cracking the case is a British superspy temporarily going under the name of Imogen. She’s played by Elisabeth Moss, of Mad Men and The Handmaid’s Tale, and by the end of the six episodes of The Veil, I was convinced that this is Moss’ best role, and best performance, yet. She’s amazing.

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As a secret agent, Imogen has plenty of secrets of her own, which unfold slowly as the miniseries progresses. She’s a damaged soul with a haunted past – which, for her latest mission, turns out to be a valuable asset. She’s been charged to locate and befriend a woman who recently surfaced in a refugee camp on the Syrian and Turkish border.

The woman, going by the name Adilah (Yumna Marwan), claims to be of Algerian descent, and from France — but several spy agencies suspect her of being the elusive mastermind behind the rumored imminent terrorist plot. Imogen’s mission is to locate Adilah, who is held under guard at the camp after being attacked and stabbed by other refugees. Imogen offers to help Adilah escape, while getting close enough to try to ascertain her true identity, motives and target.

Elisabeth Moss and Yumna Marwan are more alike than either initially suspect in The Veil.

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Elisabeth Moss and Yumna Marwan are more alike than either initially suspect in The Veil.

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The terrorist Imogen is hunting is known as Djinn al Raqqa – in folklore, a shape-shifting genie who can assume any form. Is Adilah actually Djinn al Raqqa hiding in plain sight? Or is she as innocent as she claims? Imogen, a shapeshifter of sorts herself, uses all her spycraft skills to earn Adilah’s trust, by helping her in her quest to cross borders and return to Paris, where her young daughter awaits.

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Their journey is fascinating, with each probing to learn the other’s secrets while protecting her own. It’s a bit like Homeland where you, the viewer, are unsure of each character’s true motives. And as the two women go off the grid and spend time with each other, avoiding all the authorities trying to locate them, their relationship keeps deepening.

In that way, The Veil is a bit like Thelma & Louise. Except, sometimes, it’s more like Thelma v. Louise. Both characters are delightfully unpredictable. In one scene, Imogen takes Adilah to a smuggler they hope will give them new passports and identities to get to Paris. Imogen’s plan is to have them pose as singers and belly dancers. But their proposed cover is at risk when the smuggler decides to test them a little by demanding that Adilah display her skills — which she does, leaving both Imogen and the smuggler suitably impressed.

These two actors are incredibly nuanced and well-matched in these roles – captivating as adversaries, and even more so if and when they decide to become allies. The writer and creator of The Veil, Steven Knight from Peaky Blinders and All the Light We Cannot See, explores their relationship brilliantly. But he also keeps escalating the terrorist plot, and following the many agents and agencies trying to crack it. One special standout here is Josh Charles, from The Good Wife and Sports Night, who is cast as an aggressive CIA agent on French soil – an ugly American in Paris. He plays his part perfectly.

Even so, The Veil, at its core, is the story of two shape-shifting survivors who are more alike than either of them suspected – and whose realization of that fact may, or may not, stop a horrifying terrorist attack. It’s quite a voyage – and quite a drama.

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