Lifestyle
San Vicente Bungalows Is Coming to NYC’s West Village
 
																								
												
												
											There was no image of Lady Gaga at 3 a.m., hanging near the wall with various members of Arcade Fire and Eddie Vedder. No images of Kevin Costner, single and ready to mingle by the bar. No images of Cher and Lauryn Hill over at the banquettes of the softly lit dining room. The owners of San Vicente West Village had made sure that no paparazzi could be found inside last Friday, despite the fact that some of the biggest names in music and Hollywood had come for a party after the Saturday Night Live 50th-anniversary concert at Radio City Music Hall.
Had any of those images been beamed across the internet, it might have built a sense that the first event at SVB, which officially opens in March, was a rager for the ages.
Perhaps that is the point: You had to be there.
Among New Yorkers who flock to power and crave exclusivity, the upcoming opening of Los Angeles’s best private club is being greeted with a sense of urgency that is second only to the future of democracy.
“Everyone in fashion has been talking about this club, whether to join, how to get on the list,” said Kendall Werts, a founder of the Jeffries, an agency at the intersection of branding and celebrity.
San Vicente West Village is the brainchild of Jeff Klein, a businessman with a long track record in hospitality, who opened San Vicente Bungalows Los Angeles in 2018.
In the 1990s, Mr. Klein bet that hotels would be to that decade what nightclubs had been to the 1980s.
In 2004, Mr. Klein spent $18 million to buy the dilapidated Sunset Tower Hotel in Los Angeles. It went on to become the town’s premier canteen for moguls and movie stars (think: Jennifer Aniston, Jeff Bezos, George Clooney) and, for several years, it was the site of Vanity Fair’s famous Oscars party.
Mr. Klein also teamed up with the magazine’s former editor, Graydon Carter, on the Monkey Bar, a restaurant in Midtown Manhattan.
But the real follow-up to the Sunset Tower was the San Vicente Bungalows, a members-only club that changed how celebrities could socialize.
A cynic might say the idea was to create a safe space for the town’s best-known and best-connected people, one where they could gawk at and hit on one another without having those moments memorialized in a bad iPhone picture taken by a tourist. (The club requires all guests to cover their phone cameras with stickers for the duration of their stay.) The challenges associated with navigating Los Angeles’s sprawl also worked in the club’s favor. With fewer ways to run into people, they settled into picking one.
Dues ran around $4,000, not including initiation fees that ranged from $3,000 to $15,000, depending on age. Among those who joined were Jennifer Lopez, Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Tom Ford.
“When I’m in L.A., if I’m not eating at home, I’m at San Vicente. Before that, I was at Tower Bar,” Mr. Ford said by phone last week. “It’s like I’m at home. They know my favorite table and what I like. My Coca-Cola arrives before I ask for it. You feel Jeff’s presence in every way.”
After the coronavirus pandemic, an idea began to gnaw at Mr. Klein: Might he be able to bottle the magic in Los Angeles and bring it back to the city he’d left behind?
In short order, he decided to test his luck at the Jane Hotel, a red brick West Village landmark along the West Side Highway.
The blowback and intrigue from New Yorkers began as soon as the first invitations to join were extended. A select group of current members were instructed to invite their friends or people who they thought should be members. In emails, those new insiders were given the rare opportunity to join without the formal review process that most members were subjected to. The membership is being vetted by Gabe Doppelt, a British magazine editor who cut her teeth as the assistant to Anna Wintour and Tina Brown. After going on to be the editor of Mademoiselle, she oversaw Hollywood coverage at W magazine and The Daily Beast.
People who did not get invites were angry about not being invited. People who did get invites were angry about the fees, especially the older ones and some of the most creative ones who were not high-net-worth individuals. Prospective invitees were asked to upload their drivers licenses so that their age-adjusted fees could be determined. No one liked that.
It so happens that San Vicente’s annual fees are in the same ballpark as those of other New York City private social clubs, such as Casa Cipriani and Chez Margaux. They’re considerably cheaper than the Core Club’s.
A fair amount of debate began about whether the city had enough juice left to create a lasting clubhouse full of people who were both creative enough and financially solvent enough to pay for membership. Power in New York City is often cultural as much as it is capital.
“Does real fabulousness even take place in public anymore? Isn’t it behind closed doors in other people’s homes?” said Jon Reinish, a well-connected political consultant who received an invitation to the club last month and had not yet joined. “I just don’t know that it exists in Manhattan anymore the way it did during the days of Michael’s the Grill Room and Mortimer’s, and it’s very hard to reverse-engineer it any kind of lasting way.”
But for every person sniping, another was joining. Also helping ensure success: Mr. Klein’s unique popularity, according to Kevin Huvane, who, as the co-chairman of Creative Artists Agency, helps guide the careers of many San Vicente regulars, among them Ms. Aniston, Demi Moore and Jennifer Lopez. “People underestimate good will,” he said, before going on to liken Mr. Klein to Joe Allen, the impresario whose restaurants in the theater district established him as a king of Broadway.
The night after the star-studded S.N.L. party, Mr. Werts of the Jeffries was among roughly a thousand people who attended a hard-hat party celebrating the club’s upcoming opening.
Others in the crowd included the power literary agent David Kuhn, the television mogul Darren Starr, the actress Zooey Deschanel and the political pundit Molly Jong-Fast.
A magazine editor who earlier in the week had complained to me about having wasted several thousand dollars to join (largely because of FOMO) was now grousing about the long line for the coat check.
Even Mr. Klein appeared a little embarrassed by the size of the crowd. A few feet away, he talked to Soon-Yi Previn, the wife of Woody Allen.
“It’s a good thing Woody didn’t come,” Mr. Klein said. “It’s too crowded.”
Officially, Mr. Klein was not participating with this piece. Last December, he gave an interview to The New York Times in connection with the opening of a San Vicente outpost in Santa Monica, Calif. After its publication, Jay-Z asked him why on earth he’d cooperated with it. After all, a central promise of the club is privacy for its members. (Some have been suspended for uploading pictures to Instagram.)
And Mr. Klein had to concede that Jay-Z had a point.
Still, he also knew that in a town of journalists, nothing about the weekend was going to be totally off the record. And with opening costs in the $130 million range, he was not going to be able to make that back without some press. (“Oof, that’s a lot of money,” said Mr. Huvane, when told the number.)
So Mr. Klein did not exactly shoo me away as he greeted Risa Heller, a crisis manager whose clients have included Jeff Zucker and Anthony Weiner.
Waiters marched around the space serving crispy shrimp satays and cappuccino-flavored macaroons.
Ms. Jong-Fast and Ms. Deschanel went upstairs to see the movie theater, then checked out a few of the guest suites, where the hardwood floors had an amber hue and the bed linens were airy and white.
“This would be a great place to cheat on your spouse,” said Ms. Jong-Fast, stopping for a minute to admire a pumpkin-colored sofa with a Hudson County vibe. “Although maybe that’s more Casa Cipriani.”
 
																	
																															Lifestyle
In case 2025 wasn’t scary enough, it was a great year for horror, too
 
														
                Cary Christopher in Weapons.
                
Warner Bros. Pictures
                
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         Warner Bros. Pictures
     
2025 has been a ghoulish year for horror, and you can catch all of it this weekend: Doggie dread, a vampiric Oscar contender, thrillers zombified, supernatural, and nuclear.
No tricks, just treats.
Weapons
Available to stream on HBO Max and rent on demand.
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Weapons begins with something that seems impossible: One night, in the suburb of Maybrook, every student (save one) from Justine Gandy’s third-grade classroom gets up at 2:17 a.m., goes downstairs, walks out of the house, and silently runs off into the night. They are gone, 17 of them. They are caught on doorbell cameras or security cameras, disappearing into the woods or just into the darkness. Suspicion falls on Justine (Julia Garner), for the simple reason that nobody can figure out how these kids could disappear unless something was happening in that classroom, on her watch. In large part, not unlike HBO’s 2014 series The Leftovers and the novel that inspired it, Weapons is a story about a community recovering from an inexplicable trauma that arrives like a natural disaster, wreaks havoc, and then cannot be reversed, only survived. But there is another thing, another Whole Thing going on in this story, which I would not spoil for anything, because it is simply too wonderfully scary and strange. – Linda Holmes
Read the full review here.
Good Boy
In limited theaters; available to rent on demand.
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No harm befalls the deeply sympathetic canine protagonist of Good Boy, a low-budget horror film based on those eerie moments when pets seem to have a heightened sense of a presence humans can’t detect. The dog in question, named Indy, is the director’s dog in real life, and we experience the events of the film through his soulful eyes. The film features indie horror auteur Larry Fessenden in a surprise supporting role, and in some ways, it belongs to his lineage of scary movies that explore humanity’s rapacious relationship with nature. While some horror fans have expressed disappointment over Good Boy’s deliberate pace and absence of jump scares, critics have celebrated the film’s emotional, innovative storytelling from the point of view of a very good boy. — Neda Ulaby
Sinners
Available to stream on HBO Max and rent on demand.
This trailer includes an instance of vulgar language.
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It’s 1932 in Clarksdale, Miss., and enterprising twin brothers Smoke and Stack, both played by Coogler’s longtime muse Michael B. Jordan, have returned to town after some years away in Chicago. What the siblings got into while up North in all likelihood wasn’t on the up-and-up; think robbing, stealing, and doing business with Irish and Italian gangsters. But now back home, they’re flush with cash and booze and eager to set up a new venture: a juke joint. It’s possible you’re aware that Sinners involves vampires, and it does. In a straightforward metaphor for all the ways Black culture has been co-opted by whiteness, the raucous pleasures and sonic beauty of the juke joint attract the interest of a trio of demons led by Remmick (Jack O’Connell); they wish to literally leech off of the talents and energy of Black folks. And — this is not a spoiler — some of those Black people make it pretty easy for Remmick and his ilk to taste blood. – Aisha Harris
Read the full review here.
28 Years Later
Available to stream on Netflix and rent on demand.
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The apocalyptic horror film 28 Years Later takes place in the same world as the 2002 film 28 Days Later, where a deadly virus transformed the citizens of England into rabid, blood-spewing creatures with really impressive lung capacity. Seriously, those zombies were just as good at wind sprints as they were at cross-country. This year’s film picks up almost three decades later on a small island connected to the mainland by a causeway, where a group of survivors eke out a modest existence. A desperate expedition to the mainland reveals new allies and new horrors — because the infected have evolved. — Glen Weldon
Listen to the Pop Culture Happy Hour panel discuss the movie.
Presence
Available to stream on Hulu and rent on demand.
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The haunted-house thriller Presence has a formal conceit so clever, I’m surprised it hasn’t ever been done or attempted before. Maybe another movie has done it that I’m not aware of. This is a ghost story told entirely from the ghost’s point of view: We see what the ghost sees.
The ghost cannot leave the house, and so the movie never leaves the house, either. You could say that the ghost is played by the director, Steven Soderbergh, who serves as his own cinematographer, as usual, working under the pseudonym of Peter Andrews. That’s Soderbergh holding the camera as it glides up and down the stairs, following the characters from room to room, and hovering over them as they try to figure out what’s going on.
Soderbergh’s camera movements are so delicate and expressive, he can convey empathy with a mere twitch or shudder, or rage with a sudden, violent lurch. Before long, we realize that the ghost isn’t trying to scare this family; it’s trying to warn them. — Justin Chang
Read the full review here.
Frankenstein
In theaters; on Netflix Nov. 7.
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Guillermo del Toro has made several monster movies of a particular bent — soulful, swoony, feverish films about grotesque-looking creatures who prove themselves more deeply human than the humans who reject them. Which is why Frankenstein seems like the perfect match between story and muse; certainly del Toro’s been talking about making his own version of the tale for decades, calling it his “lifelong dream.” That dream is now realized, and while the resulting film captures the tone and spirit of the original novel in all its breathless zeal and hie-me-to-yon-fainting-couch deliriousness, the many narrative tweaks del Toro has made — some of which work, some of which don’t — ensure that you’d never mistake his Frankenstein for anyone else’s. – Glen Weldon
Read the full review here.
A House of Dynamite
Available in limited theaters and streaming on Netflix.
This trailer includes instances of vulgar language.
                    YouTube
                
        
An entirely plausible nuclear horror story from the Oscar-winning director of The Hurt Locker, this nerve-jangling thriller begins with a ballistic missile headed toward the continental U.S. Origin unknown, but consequences cataclysmic, the missile plays into doomsday fears so primal, most of us bury them. Nuclear war is unthinkable, we tell ourselves, because mutually assured destruction means no government would ever start one. But suppose, as director Kathryn Bigelow and screenwriter Noah Oppenheim have, that a seemingly rogue threat can’t quickly be traced, that a missile will strike a major American city in just 19 minutes, and that fallible, increasingly frantic civilian and military leaders haven’t a clue how to finesse the possible obliteration of humankind. This explosive scenario, played for farce in Dr. Strangelove, leads here into white knuckle territory. – Bob Mondello


Lifestyle
TMZ Sports Streaming Live From Newsroom, Join The Conversation!
 
														
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TMZ Sports is going live from the newsroom to discuss the day’s biggest stories … but we don’t just want folks to watch and enjoy the conversation, we want y’all to get involved!!
 Hit the comment section as Babcock, Lucas, Mojo, Edward and the whole crew break down the most important topics of the day … and we’ll be interacting with viewers throughout the program between 1 and 2 PM PT.
So tune in, make fun of us, share your two cents, sound off about your favorite team … nothing is out of bounds.
 Thursday’s show will feature Drake‘s trolling over the World Series, the latest in the Jaylen Brown saga, Megan Thee Stallion and Klay Thompson‘s next steps, and much more!!
Lifestyle
Nigerian Nobel winner Wole Soyinka says U.S. revoked his visa after Trump criticism
 
														
                Nobel Prize laureate Wole Soyinka speaks to The Associated Press during an interview at freedom park in Lagos, Nigeria, in 2021.
                
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Nobel Prize-winning author Wole Soyinka said on Tuesday that his non-resident visa to enter the United States had been rejected, adding that he believes it may be because he recently criticized President Donald Trump.
The Nigerian author, 91, won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1986, becoming the first African to do so.
Speaking to the press on Tuesday, Soyinka said he believed it had little to do with him and was instead a product of the United States’ immigration policies. He said he was told to reapply if he wished to enter again.
“It’s not about me, I’m not really interested in going back to the United States,” he said. “But a principle is involved. Human beings deserve to be treated decently wherever they are.”
Soyinka, who has taught in the U.S. and previously held a green card, joked on Tuesday that his green card “had an accident” eight years ago and “fell between a pair of scissors.” In 2017, he destroyed his green card in protest over Trump’s first inauguration.
The letter he received informing him of his visa revocation cites “additional information became available after the visa was issued,” as the reason for its revocation, but does not describe what that information was.
Soyinka believes it may be because he recently referred to Trump as a “white version of Idi Amin,” a reference to the dictator who ruled Uganda from 1971 until 1979.
He jokingly referred to his rejection as a “love letter” and said that while he did not blame the officials, he would not be applying for another visa.
“I have no visa. I am banned, obviously, from the United States, and if you want to see me, you know where to find me.”
The U.S. Consulate in Nigeria’s commercial hub, Lagos, directed all questions to the State Department in Washington, D.C. Through a spokesperson, it said that because under US law visa records are generally confidential, they would not discuss the specifics of this case while stressing that “visas are a privilege, not a right” and that “visas may be revoked at any time, at the discretion of the U.S. government, whenever circumstances warrant.”
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