Photograph and words by GREG WILLIAMS Words by JANE CROWTHER
Greg Williams joins George and Amal Clooney at their fourth annual fundraiser in London as the Clooney Foundation for Justice awards trailblazers and icons in philanthropy, freedom of speech and equality.
This year’s Albies, the Clooney Foundation for Justice annual fundraiser and awards recognising individuals making a difference in the world, were held at London’s Natural History Museum, with Greg Williams capturing the guests attending the event. Among the attendees was anti-apartheid activist and lawyer Justice Albie Sachs (a recipient in 2022 and who the awards are named after), who dined alongside guests such as Donatella Versace, Shailene Woodley, Charlotte Tilbury, Richard E. Grant, Dominic West and Felicity Jones. Hosted by Graham Norton, presenters included Meryl Streep, Jacinda Ardern, Dame Emma Thompson and the Clooneys, while musical interludes came from Brandi Carlile and John Legend. The dinner menu nodded to the Clooneys’ favourite holiday spot, with Italian penne all’arrabbiata served as table conversations flowed underneath the museum’s famous suspended Blue Whale skeleton. ‘At The Albies, the sacrifices and courageous commitments to justice and human rights take centre stage,’ George and Amal Clooney noted. ‘This is a celebration of the individuals whose lives and careers have come to embody those values that form the cornerstone of our foundation’s global work.’ Award recipients were:
Fatou Baldeh – Women in Liberation and Leadership (WILL) A leading voice on the dangers of female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) and a survivor herself, Baldeh founded WILL and successfully advocated against a 2024 effort to overturn The Gambia’s ban on the practice.
José Rubén Zamora – Journalist One of Guatemala’s most respected journalists known for investigating corruption, he was charged and convicted of money laundering after reporting unfavourably on the President of Guatamala. He is in prison awaiting retrial.
Marty Baron – Editor and journalist The former executive editor of The Boston Globe and The Washington Post.He led the Globe’s exposé on the Catholic Church’s cover-up of sexual abuse, as well as the Post’s reporting on widespread digital surveillance of American citizens.
Melinda French Gates – Philanthropist A champion of global efforts for women’s health and equality for over 25 years. She now leads Pivotal Ventures – an organisation that advances women’s empowerment around the world.
Darren Walker – President of the Ford Foundation The Lifetime Achievement recipient created the first billion-dollar social bond in U.S. capital markets to stabilise nonprofit organisations during Covid. During a long career he has been key in numerous social justice initiatives.
To find out more about The Albies, visit cfj.org/the-albies. See other causes The Clooney Foundation for Justice supports at cfj.org
George and Amal Clooney
George and Amal Clooney
Albie Sachs
Bianca Jagger and Donatella Versace
The Albies
John Legend and George Clooney
Richard E. Grant, Meryl Streep, Stella McCartney and Shailene Woodley
Meryl Streep
Fatou Baldeh — Women’s Rights Activist (Award) and Dame Emma Thompson
José Rubén Zamora – (Human Rights Award) accepted by his son José Carlos Zamora
Darren Walker — Pursuit of Justice (Lifetime Achievement Award)
Melinda French Gates — (Award)
Marty Baron – Editor and journalist (Award)
Brandi Carlile
Graham Norton and Jacinda Ardern
George and Amal Clooney
Katherine Waterston
George Clooney and Dame Emma Thompson
Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS Words by JANE CROWTHER To find out more about The Albies, visit cfj.org/the-albies. See other causes The Clooney Foundation for Justice supports at cfj.org
A La-La Land fixture since the ’30s, this trolley-car bar has entertained The Duke, The King and The Chairman among a constellation of stars who have dropped by for a Mai Tai and a bite. It has featured in movies, songs and legends, dodged the wrecking ball and continues to provide old Hollywood glamour and gossip from its rouge embrace. Hollywood Authentic invites you to meet us at The Formosa…
First opened in 1939 across the road from the Samuel Goldwyn Studio lot, the Formosa Cafe has been the site of whispered secrets and Hollywood tales ever since. The 1917 Hampton Studios, 1920s Pickford-Fairbanks Studio and the fledgling United Artists, plus the Warner Hollywood Studios all sat at the corner of Formosa and Santa Monica Boulevard at various times over the decades. The stars of productions looking for a quick bite and drink – off-site and away from the commissary – would pop across the street to sink into the deep, red vinyl booths and speakeasy atmosphere of the Formosa. The sign on the bar, ‘Where the stars dine’, isn’t an empty boast. Regular John Wayne got so sloshed one night he slept off his whiskey in the bar and was found making scrambled eggs for breakfast in the kitchen the next morning. Marilyn Monroe has sipped at the storied watering hole, as has Howard Hughes, while juggling screenings across the street and dates at his table. While making films in town, Elvis Presley used to rock up to meet Colonel Tom Parker in his favourite booth (his liquor decanters are on show in the bar now), and he once turned up with a new Cadillac for a waitress who his party had forgotten to tip. His daughter, Lisa Marie, continued the tradition and hosted a posthumous 88th birthday party for her father in the cafe days before she died in 2022.
The sign on the bar, ‘Where the stars dine’, isn’t an empty boast. Regular John Wayne got so sloshed one night he slept off his whiskey in the bar and was found making scrambled eggs for breakfast in the kitchen the next morning
Mobster Bugsy Siegel used a booth so often the restaurant was referred to as his ‘office’ and he had a secret safe installed at his table for sneaky cash transactions, which is still visible through a glass pane in the floor. Frank Sinatra, James Dean, Humphrey Bogart and Ava Gardner frequented the venue for its discretion, dim lighting, cosy vibes and killer cocktails. Little wonder that it featured in a key scene in Curtis Hanson’s love letter to cinema’s Golden Age, LA Confidential, when LAPD detectives (Guy Pearce and Kevin Spacey) offend Lana Turner by interrupting her dinner and assuming she is a sex worker. In The Majestic, it stood in for the fictional Coco Bongo bar on Santa Monica Pier, and of course such a vintage hangout would be an onscreen haunt for old-school Hollywood fans Jon Favreau and Vince Vaughn in Swingers.
For almost as long as movies have been the industry of Los Angeles, a restaurant has sat on this site. Established in 1925 as the Red Post Cafe, the business was expanded with a decommissioned 1904 red trolley car and a partnership with chef-turned-restauranteur Lem Quon (and stayed in the Quon family for decades). The trolley car remained, Chinese food went on the menu and the Formosa asked many of its famous clients to autograph their headshots as they draped over the bar. Those 8x10s lined the walls for years, looking down on the swirling cigarette smoke and hushed conversations through to the threat of demolition in 1991. When longtime patron Bono heard his favourite cocktail lounge might shut down, he scribbled a poem on a drinks coaster:
… It’s dark in the daylight, you can’t see very far Past the ghosts of Sam Goldwyn in the old train car. Jane Russell was there, and so was Monroe When James Dean told the “Rock” where to go Hey, Elvis is dead but he haunts the PagodaIt’s on Santa Monica, it’s called Formosa.
The Formosa survived, with fans including the Beastie Boys, until an unpopular remodelling in 2015 when the vibrant lacquered walls, pagoda lanterns and buddha statues were ripped out for a more modern look. Later, as it seemed that the ghosts of Hollywood might be lost along with a legendary haunt, preservationists and the 1933 Group moved in to save and restore the grand dame.
Consulting old photographs for veracity, the team painstakingly replaced all the fitting and ephemera as it was (dusting off in-storage items, re-purchasing sold property), and worked on a new bar area and the refurbishment of the 36-seater, 800-series Pacific Electric trolley car – which is now the oldest surviving model of its kind. The careful $2.4 million restoration replaced trolley parts and uncovered new glass – and allowed the small room at the back of the car, which was formerly Siegel and then later mobster Mickey Cohen’s private office, to shine. Now it’s a cosy VIP dining space for up to 20 people with its own separate entrance and a vintage rotary phone to make orders directly to the bar. It was also here during the recent Presley birthday celebrations that Elvis’ prized possessions were displayed for guests (his gem-encrusted ‘TCB’ ring, Aloha Hawaii cape and silver Vegas belt among the treasures) after being flown in with the curator via private jet direct from Graceland. The vibe of both kingpins and the king reside here.
Wanting to honour the heritage of the place, a back dining room was created where the smoking patio used to be, with an ornate bar formerly from Chinatown’s famous Yee Mee Loo restaurant. The Yee Mee Loo was a similar time capsule, with an underground Tiki joint called the Kwan Yin Temple serving lurid drinks, decorated with a clock that ran backwards and a bar that was a prop altar used in the 1937 movie The Good Earth. The bar had been in a Glendale restaurant and then a private home’s lounge before the 1933 Group found it and relocated it. The tiles on the pagoda roof of the whimsical bar were created by Warner Bros Design Studio – a fitting link to the company’s old-time links to the bar as former neighbours. The dining space alongside it is now decorated with vintage photos, lobby cards and promo material of trailblazing Asian actors who made their mark on Hollywood, in theatre and in TV and radio, curated by filmmaker Arthur Dong.
These days, the Yee Mee Loo bar and the original brass-topped bar – which gleams like a polished Buick – are linked by the same terrazzo floor slabs that line the Hollywood Boulevard Walk of Fame. Famous names once again stare down from the reinstated headshots on the walls and identify the coveted booth seating (take a pew at the Ava Gardner, the Elvis or the John Wayne); the cocktail list is a book of talent favourites. The Duke’s ‘All Nighter’ (Milagro Blanco Tequila, RumChata, Fair Goji Liqueur, passionfruit and lime) sits alongside the bar’s famous Mai Tais and Blood and Sand concoctions. Drink a couple of those and you may well feel you’ve travelled to another time – or dimension; apparently the ghost of a gentleman sits in booth eight and can only be seen through the reflection in the bar’s overhead mirror…
Photographs by MARK READ Words by JANE CROWTHER 7156 Santa Monica Blvd, West Hollywood, Los Angeles, CA 90046 www.theformosacafe.com
Co-writer and director of Train Dreams, Clint Bentley, celebrates an American New Wave movie that showcases a beautiful paradox and resonates through the decades.
ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST (1975) One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest was the first film that really changed me. I probably saw it way too young – in seventh grade – about 12 years old – but that’s also part of why it was so impactful. I was having a terrible time in school: bullied, feeling out of place, learning for the first time that the world was not inherently fair. Then I saw Nicholson try to rip a sink out of the floor to throw it through a window and escape his confinement. And in that moment I was saved. I’ve carried that moment, along with the rest of this incredible film, with me ever since.
Amazon MGM Studios
I grew up on a ranch in Florida. We only had three TV channels and so I watched a ton of movies, mostly with my mom. She loved American movies from the ’60s and ’70s and so that’s what I loved, too. Movies taught me about life. Steve McQueen, Clint Eastwood, Jack Nicholson – watching these men struggle helped me navigate those years. When I first watched Cuckoo’s Nest, I was moved so deeply by McMurphy – in a position where everything is stacked against him, but never losing his spirit. Never letting go of his passion for life. It opened me up as a person and, looking back, it set the tone for the types of films I one day hoped to create. There’s a deep humanism that runs through the film. A love and an understanding for its characters who are all trapped in an oppressive system. The older I get, the more that resonates with me.
Amazon MGM Studios
The craft of the film is also so striking and so beautiful. It’s amazing to see how Milos Forman achieves this magical combination of intention and openness. It’s a beautifully written script that’s always taking the audience somewhere, yet so gently that many moments feel totally improvised. As if a camera just happened to be there when something happened. I know now what a rare and difficult balance it is to strike as I’m constantly trying to find it as a filmmaker. I’ve been so inspired by this approach. Of trying to create what might be closer to a theatre troupe and letting scenes play out before a camera in hopes that we might achieve the feeling of life, with all of its beauty and surprises. When you get lucky enough to find that balance, some magic happens. Moments appear that you never would have been able to dream up. Moments that come to define your movie. The whole film comes to life and you feel more like you’re discovering it rather than creating it.
Cuckoo’s Nest is also a film that allows itself to make mistakes. There are moments that I think the film could probably have been fine without – moments that, in and of themselves, you might not have missed had they been left on the cutting room floor. And yet that shagginess is part of what makes the film so lovely. It helps give it its personality. Like the characters in the film itself, its ‘flaws’ are part of what helps reveal its spirit.
Amazon MGM Studios
In a movie full of unforgettable moments, one scene that has always stayed with me is the baseball game scene. Nurse Ratched (the incomparable Louise Fletcher) won’t let the guys watch a baseball game on TV. So McMurphy, in an act of defiance, pretends that he’s watching the game, acting it out for the guys. What starts out as something juvenile and a bit silly slowly takes on more resonance and depth. The other patients start to gather around him and he narrates the imaginary action with such conviction (yelling over the piped-in ‘calming’ music, no less) that these lost and bullied men momentarily believe in the game. They get lost in the performance and, more movingly – for this moment at least – they’re free. It’s an incredible performance from Nicholson, in the midst of a company of amazing performances. But more deeply, it’s a moment of rebellion and solidarity. A moment that illuminates the power of imagination. Of play. Of making art in dark times. It shows the power of art to foster resilience, endurance and to even be a protest in its own way.
Amazon MGM Studios
There’s a melancholy to Forman’s film. It’s not only inherent in the story, but it suffuses through the filmmaking itself. From the look of the cinematography to the strange, haunting score that always seems to wander in from around the corner. And yet hand-in-hand with that melancholy is a deep love and appreciation for life. I leave this film and I’m just very thankful to be alive, to be able to walk around. It reminds you to revel in the little moments. Having a beer at a baseball game. Going out to meet a friend. It reminds you what a blessing it is just to be alive.
Amazon MGM Studios
A more recent inspiration from this film came when considering how to approach an adaptation of a piece of literature – especially one as iconic and beloved as Train Dreams. Having just adapted this novella, I now know the responsibility and the fear inherent in the task. It’s a delicate process. The film must be able to stand on its own, whether the audience has read the book or not. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest releases itself from the source material while always honoring its spirit. Despite the liberties taken with the text (and despite Ken Kesey’s hatred of the film), it’s hard not to see the reverence that Forman had for the source material and for what it could communicate about the human spirit.
Amazon MGM Studios
The ending of the film still bowls me over every time I see it. The way tragedy and triumph somehow exist in the same moment. The element of rebirth inherent in the story. It’s a catharsis I still get shaken by every time I experience the film. One of the beautiful aspects of great art is that it can give us this emotional release. It seems to be something we’ve needed as long as we’ve been human – from the early tribal ceremonial experiences, up through Ancient Greek theatre, into today where most of us get it in the cinema (I’m sure there will be some other unimagined form one day). It’s a rare and special thing when a film can pull us into a story, take us on a deep emotional journey and, in the process, transform us. The pieces of art that achieve this resonance and depth become timeless. We hold onto them. It’s why we still read Don Quixote. It’s why this film will never go out of style. Despite moments that end up feeling dated or from another time, there’s a universality that we hold onto. Something that we’ll return to over and over to help us get through the dark times, whatever form they may take.
Down Cemetery Road star Adeel Akhtar tells Hollywood Authentic about his evening chocolate fix, clapping with one hand and being buried alive in a coffin.
How important is a little bit of nonsense now and then to you? Very important. It allows you to not take things, yourself or other people too seriously. It’s important to take things a little bit seriously, though.
What, if anything, makes you believe in magic? The goodness in people. Especially from people who have gone through a lot and you wouldn’t expect them to be able to have the breadth of emotion to afford to be kind to people, and they are… that makes me believe in magic.
What was your last act of true cowardice? I’m filming at the moment in Greece, and I had to go to the edge of this mountain. I was harnessed and I was clipped in and I did it – but I was terrified.
What single thing do you miss most when you’re away from home? My family and my children. I’m in a beautiful place right now, but it would be even more beautiful with my wife and my kids.
Do you have any odd habits or rituals? It’s not an odd habit, but it is a bit of a ritual. On the first day of filming, I have to pack my bag and leave it all by the door the night before. Everything has to be ready by the door for me to go. And the times I haven’t done that, it hasn’t been a very good day.
What is your party trick? You know that Zen quote? What’s the sound of one hand clapping? You’re supposed to say it doesn’t sound like anything, because how can you clap with one hand? I can clap with one hand because I’ve got a really floppy wrist, and that’s my party trick.
What is your mantra? I don’t have one, but if I were to make one up it would be ‘keep going’.
What is your favourite smell? I suppose the distinct smell of home when I get back after being away for a long time. You know your house always has a particular type of smell? That’s the smell of home.
What do you always carry with you? Headphones. If I’m going on set they’ll be small ones, and if I’m walking around, big ones. But I have to have my headphones because I listen to music all the time.
What is your guilty pleasure? Chocolate with milk in an evening. Or a chocolate chip cookie with milk. But a big glass of cold milk. At the end of the day, that makes me quite happy.
Who is the silliest person you know? My two boys. Both of them are equally as silly as each other. Some of the silly chats that we get into start in English and then end in gibberish.
What would be your least favourite way to die? In a coffin, buried alive.
What’s your idea of heaven? I had it a little bit this summer. Me, my wife and the kids went to the south of France and we hired a little house there with a swimming pool. The weather was lovely, and we drank loads of rosé and ate really well. That was heaven to me.
BAFTA-winning actor Adeel Akhtar studied law at university but found his calling in drama, training at the Actors Studio Drama School and The New School, New York. He made his name in Four Lions and has appeared in diverse projects ranging from Clio Barnard’s Ali & Ava, Sherwood and The Night Manager to Back to Life, Capital, River and Murdered by My Father (for which he won the BAFTA) as well as numerous theatre productions. He is currently starring in thriller series Down Cemetery Road, based on the novel by Mick Herron.
*Arguably one of the most memorable (and quotable) scenes in 1971’s Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory is when Mr Salt mumbles, ‘It’s a lot of nonsense,’ to which Wonka replies, in a sing-song voice, ‘A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.’
Words & Interview by ARIANNE PHILLIPS As told to JANE CROWTHER
The Oscar-winning vanguard costume designer who created the sartorial world of Oz tells Arianne Phillips about juggling numerous projects, ensuring he stays joyful and his belief in creating opportunities for the next generation of talent.
Paul Tazewell has profoundly impacted theatre and film. As well as receiving an Oscar for his work on Wicked earlier this year, he also won the Critics’ Choice Award, the Costume Designers Guild’s Excellence in Sci-Fi/Fantasy Film award, the NAACP Image Award, and the Innovator Award from the African American Film Critics’ Association, underscoring his critical role in bringing the fantastical world of Oz to life. Additional accolades include an Academy Award nomination for West Side Story in 2021, an Emmy for The Wiz! Live, and recognitions for his contributions to Harriet, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks and Jesus Christ Superstar Live in Concert.
Wicked (2024). Universal Pictures
On Broadway, Tazewell has been nominated for a Tony Award 10 times, and won twice. Earlier this year, his costumes for Death Becomes Her – currently on Broadway – won him the 2025 Tony Award. Most notably in 2024, his designs for the production of Suffs earned him a Drama Desk Award and also a Tony nomination. His revolutionary designs for Hamilton won him a Tony Award in 2016, further establishing his reputation in theatrical costume design – and inspiring generations of young people to go to the theatre.
Throughout his career, Tazewell has earned multiple Lucille Lortel Awards, Helen Hayes Awards, and additional accolades from the Costume Designers Guild. His dedication is also evident in his collaborations with The Metropolitan Opera, The Bolshoi Ballet and The English National Opera.
Educated at New York University and the University of North Carolina School of the Arts, Tazewell has shared his expertise as a guest artist at these institutions and served on the faculty at Carnegie Mellon University from 2003 to 2006. Based in New York City – although probably rarely there these days – Tazewell continues to inspire and shape the future of costume design, bringing life to a rich tapestry of characters through his artful and intricate designs.
AP: I’d love to start at the beginning, and understand where you grew up, what family life was, and at what point did you get inspired to pursue costume design?
PT: I grew up as one of four boys in Akron, Ohio to my two parents. My mother was the daughter of a university educator and a pianist. My grandmother studied at Oberlin and then at Wesleyan, and then she taught piano. My mother was an artist and an educator as well. So it set up an environment that was very creative. That was very inspiring and also necessary for me, because I think much of what I experienced as a child informs how I do my work, even to this day. Because my mother also practises as a group therapist I had that interest in what makes people tick; why people do what they do; why they wear what they wear, essentially; and how they create their own individual character; how they represent themselves – it became a big part of the language that I now use as a professional designer.
Hamilton (2020). Alamy
AP: I really relate to that. In these conversations that I’ve been having I’ve learned that so many of us, in these early years as children, whether it’s community theatre or an artistic environment, were really encouraged to express ourselves in multiple different ways. It’s a beautiful ability to inspire your children to look at life through this amazing lens of storytelling.
PT: It was really theatre that drew me in. The community building, the joining together in creating a production, for the single goal. The drive to recreate that environment where I could excel; where I was engaging with other people that were very creative. It’s how I collaborate even today. What it takes to be a costume designer, it’s inclusive of all those things that I love to do. I love fabric, and what fabric does, what you can do sculpturally with fabric. I love the drawing and painting and coming up with different ideas, whether it’s around space and in an environment, or it’s just specific to, ‘What is a character going to look like?’ I love working with very talented tailors, dressmakers and other craftspeople in creating the different costumes. I love engaging with directors, and figuring out what the point of view of the story is going to be, and also with actors, and that intimate place of finding that individual character.
As an undergraduate, I really wanted to be a musical theatre performer. But because of the time that I was coming up, I wasn’t seeing people that looked like me getting the roles that I wanted to play. And so I made a conscious decision to pull back on performance, and really lean into the world of costumes, because I could then design for any kind of character. Now having practised as a costume designer for about 35 years – I’m so grateful that that was my decision. Last year is a testament to that. All of this love, and all of the accolades that I received. But also it’s made for just a very rich career in a way that I don’t know that it would have been if I had been a performer. And being able to practise my art in live performance, as well as film, television, opera and ballet – there are so many different venues that I’ve been able to practise in, and that has made for a very rich career as well.
Hamilton (2020). Alamy
AP: In 2002 you had your first opportunity to work in television with Elaine Stritch at Liberty. Then in 2008, just six years later, you designed a film with Spike Lee. What’s your process for working between theatre, opera, ballet, television and film?
PT: Whatever I’m designing, I’m always myself. So my sensibility remains intact. I’m very aware of the different venues as it relates to scale, or as it relates to a sense of reality. Something like Henrietta Lacks, you are trying to give the illusion, or create these characters that feel like real people that you would see on the streets, or that you engage with wherever you are. You need to find that quality of reality. And then also be specific about who they are as characters – giving them a backstory, giving them a reason to be wearing what they are wearing. So I’m able to do that as well as operate with a mind towards poetry, with a mind towards the world of musical theatre is its own thing. On something like West Side Story, you’re balancing the function of clothing that needs to move and dance and look of a certain energy and beauty. And you also want for the colour palette that you use to mean something. You want to be specific about each of the characters and it has to feel like real ’50s New York. Which is different from Wicked where it’s completely made up, but you have to establish what those rules are in order to be consistent about what this world of Oz is. So it’s always shifting and changing, and I’m completely in love with that – having that broad opportunity to be able to design in many different ways. But with all of those different versions of genres, of performance, of entertainment, I’m the constant. You can see through my work – you know, my draw to strong colour, to detail, to character specificity. All of those play within each of the genres of performance.
AP: How wonderful it is to be able to approach these well-loved stories, and to be able to be intimate with them on film. Your work consistently has beautiful details, and I think it really shines in the room as well on camera. What do you look for when deciding to work on a project? What excites you?
PT: It’s always informed by the director that has asked me to design the production. When we were starting out as young designers, you’re about developing and nurturing creative relationships that will get you to the second job or the third job. You’re working as a freelance designer so that becomes very practical. You’re pragmatically accepting jobs so that you can maintain a life. But then you have these creative relationships where they really do feed you as a creative being. The familiarity, working on the second production and the third production, is really gratifying because you can learn from what you’ve done. So much of the work we do, we can only do it really well when we trust the people that we’re working with. When we have the trust of the director, the actor, the designer, you have to create a bond.
Early on, I was just saying yes to as much as I could actually take on. Whether it was a great moment of design, at the very least it gave me another opportunity to practise my craft. And it gave me the opportunity to work with other people that I’ve never worked with. And I learned from that. Walking through costume designing in an abundant way, it’s had a really positive result. And then you come upon a Hamilton – which was definitely a marker in my career and hit the zeitgeist, and really launched into the world – that meant that I was more visible to more people, whether that was theatre people or film people. That was one of the big reasons that I started working with Steven Spielberg on West Side Story and I did Harriet. One thing feeds off another. The universe has been very generous in that way, in offering opportunities.
Paul Tazewell at The Oscars 2025. Alamy
AP: Speaking personally, being nominated for an Academy Award alongside you this year, it was not lost on me how historic and important it was for your nomination and your win for Best Achievement in Costume Design for the Oscar [Tazewell was the first Black man to win the category]. Can you reflect for us a little bit about that moment in particular?
PT: One thing that was very special about this year, it was also where I turned 60. I’ve been a professional costume designer since 1990. That’s a huge body of work that I did prior to this amazing moment. One of the things I was thinking is, ‘I’ve been here doing this for all of these years, and you guys are just catching up!’ But also just being grateful. For me, it was really glorious to then be able to have all of the experiences surrounding it. But I needed everything that led up to the designing of Wicked to happen, because then I could make use of it. I could be a master of how to orchestrate what this vision would potentially be, and what [director] John M. Chu was looking for; matching what [production designer] Nathan Crawley was doing. To then be acknowledged for it in such a loud way was really beautiful. And to then say, ‘Indeed, thank you. I’m a first’…
Ruth Carter and I go way, way back to when I was at North Carolina School of the Arts. She was the first Black woman to receive an Oscar for costume design, and then to be able to stand alongside her and be represented in that way is hugely meaningful. Entering into this career, you know, so often I’m sitting at conference tables where I’m the only Black face at the table. For so many years, I was seen as the right designer for stories about people of colour. First off, it was stories about young people of colour on the street, and then it became about people of colour in a broader sense. Now, finally, I can be seen as a person who is just a storyteller. And that’s hugely meaningful. What my priority is now, is that 10-year-old that looks like me and is struggling to figure out what they want to do, or how they want to create, or how they want to live their life. If I can stand as an inspiration for that kid, for that ‘me’ of today, then that is everything that I want. It’s why I’m on Earth – to power life forward.
Wicked: For Good (2025). Universal Pictures
AP: You’ve established a Paul Tazewell Scholarship fund at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts, your alma mater, so you are putting that into action…
PT: As we all know, it’s going to take a lot to continue the support of young designers and young people that are entering into the world of the arts. It was much easier when I was coming up. There were many more programmes, art schools, ways of expanding as a young person. And that’s just becoming harder and harder. If I can be a part of that, that’s really important.
AP: I really loved that during the award season you used social media to introduce all your craftspeople, highlighting their work, and all these amazing, talented hands that help us bring our work to life.
PT: It’s another huge priority for me, because not everybody is going to be a designer. Shining a light onto the team that makes it happen is so important for me. I can’t work in a vacuum. It doesn’t just miraculously happen. They’re not elves. They’re working very hard to deliver amazing garments. It’s so very important to make sure that people know about them. When I was finishing up Wicked, I was just starting a design for Sleeping Beauty, a story ballet for the Pacific Northwest Ballet company in Seattle, as well as Suffs and Death Becomes Her. So I was working on the three designs as we were finishing up Wicked with three different teams.
Wicked: For Good (2025). Universal Pictures
AP: How do you manage it all?
PT: When I was doing Wicked, because of the scope, I had to clear the plate. I’ve heard of other designers taking on two films at the same time. I’ve never tried to do that. But you just have to be really diligent about how you schedule, and what you say yes to. And making sure that you have the support. I like the abundance of creating, and I’ve lived through lots of chaos in that process. At this stage in the game, I choose to have it be a little less crazy. You know, as full as possible, but as stress-free as possible as well! I’m very grateful because this is not an easy career to be a part of. It is a challenging road to make this decision with a lot of compromises, whether it’s about time and family, or whether it’s about how you live. You have to create that love of what you’re doing so that you will give over to what is required to do it, and to do it well.
I definitely respect what this calling is, and hopefully I can always be joyful in doing it, and create other opportunities for myself and for other people that are joyful.
Feisty Eleanor (June Squibb) is 94 years young and still enjoys trolling her neighbours and bossing grocery store clerks around to fetch pickles. But when her bestie Bessie (Rita Zohar) passes away, Eleanor is lost. She and Bessie, a Holocaust survivor, had lived together in Florida – sleeping in matching twin beds, bitching together over the kitchen table – and Eleanor’s daughter decides to move her Ma closer to her, in Manhattan.
TriStar Pictures
Floundering in the big city, Eleanor joins a Jewish OAP group at a local community centre to make new friends, only realising once she’s part of the gang that they are all Holocaust survivors who regularly share their stories. Not wishing to differentiate herself, Eleanor fibs – recounting the experience she’s heard many times from Bessie as her own. And when a young journalism student (Erin Kellyman) asks to profile her, she agrees. What harm can it do?
TriStar Pictures
Of course, this is no simple white lie in a world where faux Holocaust survivors threaten the authenticity of the events of WW2 for those wishing to deny it, but this is a gentle comedy designed to make audiences like Eleanor despite her misjudgements. That’s easy to do as played by Squibb, a cute granny with a comedically sharp tongue, but the film – directed by Scarlett Johansson in her helming debut – is soft around the edges.
TriStar Pictures
A tinkling piano score suggests all proceedings should be viewed as quirky cute, but the way Eleanor’s lie builds out to take in the grief of a father (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and easy forgiveness, it’s territory seen numerous times before in Lifetime movies. And tonally, it’s a hard line to walk as it wanders through generational trauma, trips to Coney Island, family farce and a crisis of faith. Johansson doesn’t always manage to overcome the disconnects.
The treat therefore, is in watching Squibb twinkle her way through various situations – compelling as a fallible older woman, even if the material doesn’t meet her in quality.
Pictures courtesy of TriStar Pictures Eleanor the Great is in cinemas now
There are two types of people in the world: Christmas movie people and non-Christmas movie people. If you’re in the former group, you’ll likely love Richard Curtis, John Lewis adverts and enjoy Kate Winslet in the The Holiday. And Winslet’s directorial debut sits comfortably within that vibe, a festive comi-weepie with a star-studded cast, cute kids and a closer that will make you want to give your family members a good squeeze (even the grouchy ones). It’s unapologetically tinsel-y, emotionally manipulative and loaded with Britishisms – in other words, a successor to Love, Actually and exactly the type of movie you might want to watch post-turkey with the fam when it debuts on Netflix.
Kimberley French/Netflix
Written by Winslet’s son, Joe Anders, the titular June at the centre of a scrapping family is a granny matriarch (Helen Mirren) with terminal cancer, whose pre-Christmas fall puts her in hospital under the eye of nurse Angel (the absolutely delightful, Fisayo Akinade). June’s grown kids don’t really gel: bossy career woman Julia (Winslet) and abrasive organic-only Molly (Andrea Riseborough) fight; rumpled Connor (Johnny Flynn) doesn’t get out of his parents’ house much, and hippy Helen (Toni Collette) hasn’t been home from LA for years. Crammed together in a hospital room with various offspring (directed with appealing authenticity so as not to come over as stage-school brats) and a daft dad (Timothy Spall), June’s family unravels and binds tightly together again as she takes her final breaths…
Kimberley French/Netflix
Family squabbling is sketched with relaxed realism as the siblings talk over each other, tell their dad to shut up and get so infuriated by one another a visiting rota is drawn up. A vase is broken, people confess jealousy over vending machine snacks and there’s a gooey nativity with Christmas lights. None of it is deep, but the family dynamics feel recognisable even if death is somewhat sanitised. Winslet’s direction is assured, and regardless of whether Yuletide cheese is your bag or not, this is a confident start for an actor making their foray to the other side of the camera. It bodes well for what Winslet might do next.
Kimberley French/Netflix
Pictures courtesy of Netflix Goodbye June is in cinemas now
Who hasn’t wondered ‘what if?’ about a lost love? Joan (Elizabeth Olsen) certainly has, despite a long marriage to perennial complainer Larry (Miles Teller). When she pops her clogs not long after he’s kicked the bucket she finds herself in an afterlife terminus with a destination choice to make. Does she head to a forever with her earthly ball and chain? Or with her handsome first husband, Luke (Callum Turner) who has been waiting for her for 67 years since he bought it during the Korean War? To help her in her quandary, she has an afterlife consultant and the choice of any number of fantasy existences to pick (Studio 54 World, Weimar World without Nazis, Men-Free World is full, Clown World decommissioned). Of course, there are rules: once eternity is decided, it can’t be undone and any escapees are thrown into the black nothing of ‘the void’…
Leah Gallo/A24
It’s a classic rom-com scenario – a love triangle in which Joan must choose between the partner she has shared a life with and the husband she barely got a chance with; the familiar vs the novelty. And both hubbies are keen to win this contest, sniping and scrapping with each other as they try to entice Joan to endless days on the sunny coast in Beach World (Larry) or in a winter wonderland in Mountain World (Luke). Playing like a forties screwball comedy, Eternity is concerned with romantic overtures and smart protagonists, but also understands the choice paradox affecting us all. Yes, this may be a tale about picking the right guy, but it’s also about plumping for the right paradise, opening up bigger questions about happiness and contentment. While the characters walk through the recruitment hall of different, amusing eternities, audiences will certainly question their own ideas of perfection and if their current existence is meeting requirements.
Leah Gallo/A24
Turner and Teller do admirably in matching each other in charm as well as foibles, ensuring the happy ending remains a genuine mystery while Da’Vine Joy Randolph sneaks off with many scenes as a seen-it-all afterlife consultant. Olsen, trapped between two spouses, is given more than standard fodder to work with by screenwriter/director David Freyne (co-writing the former Black List script with Pat Cunnane). Joan is frustrated by the process, tempted by an amusing third option and wrestles with what perfection looks like. And if, indeed, it exists on heaven or earth. Where she ultimately ends up feels earned and dramatically satisfying. That said, it’s a shame we don’t get to spend more time in some of the eternities – Ice Cream or Space World might have been fun to visit.
Leah Gallo/A24
Pictures courtesy of A24 Eternity is in cinemas now
In these days of AI, fake news and the decline of print media, it’s something of a thrill to watch Laura Poitras and Mark Obenhaus’ study of a Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist as he looks back at his scoops and old-school investigative reporting. Now in his eighties, but still a pill on the phone to his sources and scribbling longhand on countless yellow legal pads, Seymour Hersh is renowned for breaking the story of the US military massacre in My Lai during the Vietnam War via dogged research, nosy-parkering and tenacity – and he’s continued to expose corruption, power play and cover-ups in the decades since. Such a thorn in the US government’s side that White House tapes caught Nixon calling him a ‘son of a bitch’, ‘Sy’ is an entertaining subject, and a reminder of disappearing skills and industries.
Netflix
In charting some of Hersh’s most famous stories – including those interweaved with Woodward and Bernstein over the Watergate scandal, and the torture at Abu Ghraib prison – the directors chart some of the US government’s darkest secrets and plots straight out of movies. One of Hersh’s leads took him to the CIA’s attempts to create a real-life Manchurian Candidate using LSD, his folly in believing he’d found love letters between Marilyn Monroe and JFK is unpicked, and his current unveiling of atrocities in Gaza keeps him horrified. And while Hersh reveals his methodology (he spent an entire meeting making small talk with military top brass while transcribing an upside-down document on his desk), he also reveals his own story.
Netflix
A working-class boy expected to take on his dad’s business, he developed an unexpected flair for writing, tearing up as he recalls a teacher taking him to the admissions office of the University of Chicago. Study led to work covering police beats and gangland slayings on Chicago local papers until he decided he wanted to write about more than ‘mass murders’.
His tenure at The New York Times was during a period when newspaper print was impactful, stories typed out and sucked up tubes in the newsroom, journalists propped their feet up on messy desks while smoking and calling moles on their landlines.
That’s not to say that Cover Up is a nostalgia trip (though aficionados of archival presses churning out news print are well served), the film stays relevant due to the constants that remain throughout history. That power continues to breed corruption, and that someone needs to hold administrations accountable. The big question the film seems to ask is – with truth seeking, hard news reporters like Hersh, now a vanishing type – who will perform this role going forward?
Netflix
Pictures courtesy of Netflix Cover Up is in cinemas now
Sydney Sweeney’s transformation from pin-up to boxing bod in prep for this role was made much of in the press. It’s unfortunately the only transformative thing about the role, which is more interested in the eighties styling and domestic abuse of a trailblazing real-life female boxer than her achievements in the ring. Though the coercive and abusive relationship at the heart of this poverty porn biopic is grubbily fascinating (a husband living through his wife’s success while also feeling emasculated by it), it makes a film about female glass-ceiling smashing ultimately about a man.
Warner Bros. Pictures
We first meet Christy as a scrappy teen amateur pugilist from Tennessee whose ferocity in the ring attracts the attention of a middle-aged local manager, Jim Martin (Ben Foster in an amazing comb-over wig). Jim briskly marries his young charge, devoting himself to getting her the same deals as her male counterparts. Now in her books as well as her bed, Jim can control Christy’s rising fortune, fame and friendships, a svengali in a shell suit. Though Martin was a truly astonishing fighter, gaining representation by Don King, lucrative prize fights and endorsements, and press coverage usually reserved for the gents, David Michôd’s film concentrates on the battles at home. Jim becomes jealous of his wife’s dalliance with a former girlfriend and of her financial clout, punching down physically and emotionally.
Sharing similarities with I, Tonya, Christy doesn’t offer the same internal life seen in Margot Robbie’s interpretation of a sportswoman from the wrong side of the tracks. While Sweeney gamely swings, she doesn’t always connect – her performance often marooned in ugly wigs and fashion. Martin’s conflicted sexuality is explored, but her future wife (played with real warmth by Katy O’Brian) is given short shrift. Foster has more success playing a toxic misogynist, imbuing the manager with gimlet-eyed, hair-trigger malevolence which manifests in a horrific incident that is genuinely shocking. Always excellent, he manages to make Jim’s self-pitying motivation plain and his mercurial monstrosity horribly plausible.
The story of ‘the coal miner’s daughter’ – as Martin was dubbed – is certainly fascinating, but audiences may want to do their own research on leaving the theatre. Christy is the title, but we learn little of her, only the outside forces that came to define her.
Pictures courtesy of Black Bear Pictures Christy is out in cinemas now
