Martin Mull, comic actor and ‘Roseanne’ star, dies at 80

Martin Mull, the comedic actor best known for his roles in “Clue,” “Roseanne,” “Arrested Development” and “Sabrina the Teenage Witch,” died Thursday. He was 80.

His daughter, TV writer and producer Maggie Mull, shared the news on Instagram.

“He was known for excelling at every creative discipline imaginable and also for doing Red Roof Inn commercials,” she wrote. “He would find that joke funny. He was never not funny. My dad will be deeply missed by his wife and daughter, by his friends and coworkers, by fellow artists and comedians and musicians, and — the sign of a truly exceptional person — by many, many dogs.”

Mull, who was also a singer-songwriter, rose to fame in the 1970s on Norman Lear’s satirical soap opera “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman” and its spinoffs, “Fernwood 2 Night” and “America 2-Night.”

The dry-witted comic played Colonel Mustard in the 1985 comedy “Clue” and Teri Garr’s boss in 1983’s “Mr. Mom.” He was Roseanne’s boss, Leon Carp, on her titular sitcom, private detective Gene Parmesan on “Arrested Development” and “Sabrina the Teenage Witch’s” nosy Principal Kraft, in addition to voicing characters on animated shows, including “American Dad!” and “The Simpsons.”

The actor appeared in more than 200 Los Angeles Times articles across four decades. most recently in December. Following the death of Lear, a Times roundup of seven essential Lear shows noted Mull’s contributions to the oddball gallery of characters in “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.”

Here’s a sampling of headlines from Mull’s life as actor and as painter. A full Times appreciation is forthcoming.

Martin Mull with Steve Martin during an art talk at the Broad Stage in Santa Monica in 2014.

(Ryan Miller / Invision / AP)

Box office: Kevin Costner’s ‘Horizon’ starts with soft $800,000

Kevin Costner’s western gamble “Horizon: An American Saga — Chapter 1” got off to a soft start at the box office, bringing in just $800,000 from more than 3,000 locations Thursday, according to studio estimates.

Many in Hollywood are closely watching the box office performance of Costner’s ambitious and risky “Horizon” this weekend, the first of a planned four-part series that is being funded in part by the star himself.

Alongside Costner, who directs, co-writes and produces as well as stars in the movie, the western saga set on the frontier during the Civil War also features Sienna Miller, Sam Worthington, Jena Malone, Luke Wilson, Isabelle Fuhrman, Tatanka Means, Ella Hunt, Abbey Lee, Hayes Costner and Danny Huston.

Going into the weekend, analysts had predicted an opening weekend box office take of $10 million to $12 million in the U.S. and Canada for the Warner Bros. feature, a tepid start. The filmmakers and studio are hoping the movie’s prospects will be boosted by the heartland audiences and older moviegoers who make up Costner’s fan base.

Kevin Costner in “Horizon: An American Saga — Chapter 1.”

(Warner Bros. Pictures)

Costner stepped away from the wildly successful Taylor Sheridan-created Paramount television series “Yellowstone” to devote himself to the “Horizon” project, which he has wanted to make for decades. Costner previously bet on himself when he put some of his own money into 1990’s “Dances With Wolves,” which would go on to make more than $400 million worldwide and win seven Academy Awards including best picture and director.

“Horizon: An American Saga — Chapter 2” is set for release in theaters on Aug. 16.

Paramount Pictures’ “A Quiet Place: Day One,” playing on more than 3,700 screens this weekend, made some noise at the box office on Thursday night, bringing in $6.8 million in previews. The two previous installments in the franchise brought in $4.3 million and $4.8 million, respectively.

Directed by Michael Sarnoski, who captured attention with the Nicolas Cage-starring “Pig,” the new “Day One” is the first film in the “Quiet Place” franchise not directed by John Krasinski. Krasiniski, who also starred in the first film, does share a story credit on the new movie with Sarnoski, who wrote the screenplay.

The prequel has been pegged for a domestic debut of $40 million to $50 million, according to prerelease audience surveys.

Joseph Quinn as "Eric" and Lupita Nyong’o as "Samira" in "A Quiet Place: Day One."

Joseph Quinn as “Eric” and Lupita Nyong’o as “Samira” in “A Quiet Place: Day One.”

(Gareth Gatrell/Paramount Pictures)

The film stars Lupita Nyong’o and Joseph Quinn, both new to the series, as the story follows the first arrival on Earth of the alien creatures who attack anything making a sound.

The winner for the weekend is nevertheless expected to be Disney and Pixar’s “Inside Out 2,” which has proven to be a box office juggernaut. The film should cross the $1-billion mark this weekend, the first movie to do so since last year’s “Barbie.”

Biden flops, Trump lies and Democrats face tough decisions on what comes next

Where were President Biden’s debate-enhancing drugs Thursday night, and more importantly, can his supporters access them now to dull memories of his weak performance during the 90-minute live telecast?

The most-watched television event behind the Super Bowl was bad for Biden, but more than that, it triggered a seismic wave of concern among Democrats about where to go next.

Biden missed chance after chance to push back against former President Trump’s distortions on immigration, the economy, the opioid crisis and even his own health. The 81-year-old candidate appeared subdued and wooden during the event, often standing with his mouth agape (he reportedly had a cold). He spent a great deal of his allotted talking time in the weeds trying unsuccessfully to spin impenetrable policy specifics into wider talking points. He meandered in his answers, his voice barely audible at points.

It was an underwhelming performance that did nothing to dispel attacks from the right — and concerns on the left — that he’s too old for the job.

More than that, his anemic showing caused many supporters to ask if it was time to replace Biden with a candidate able to stand up to the deception and bullying of Trump and his minions.

Collective anxiety across social media and among pundits reflected the real issue at the heart of the Atlanta debate.

Biden had a bad night, but America had a much worse one because it did not have a strong voice to push back against the danger Trump poses to democracy.

Trump dominated the debate with confidence and showmanship, speaking in generalities that circumvented real policy talk, ringing the MAGA Pavlovian bell about murderous immigrants, taking credit in response to questions about the economy, abortion and war. With little pushback from his opponent, and none from CNN moderators Dana Bash and Jake Tapper, Trump’s lies won the night.

CNN’s rules going into the live broadcast stated that their anchors would not fact check candidates’ answers during the debate, and each contestant’s mic would be muted when it was the other man’s turn to speak. The rules worked in Trump’s favor.

The former president appeared far more civil and controlled than usual because viewers couldn’t hear him interrupt or talk over Biden. He was also allowed to lie unhampered. He claimed that as president he had the “best environmental numbers” and “the greatest economy in the history of the country!” He said that Democrats want abortions up until and after birth. And he suggested that Nancy Pelosi refused his offer to send National Guard troops to the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, to quell an insurrection he helped foster.

Biden’s ineffectual or totally absent responses also allowed racist remarks from his opponent to go unchallenged. Trump attempted to insult Biden’s handling of the Israel-Hamas war by saying of the incumbent: “He’s become a Palestinian.” As if that were a great insult. The casual racism against Arabs and more specifically, Palestinians, was one of many moments that went unchallenged in a poorly designed debate that allowed for misdirection to stand as truth. Trump also said illegal immigrants were taking “Black jobs.” What exactly is a “Black job?” No one bothered to ask.

Contrast that to a 2008 town hall when GOP presidential nominee John McCain took the microphone from a women who said she couldn’t trust his opponent, Barack Obama, because he was “an Arab.” “No, ma’am,” he said. “He’s a decent family man. A citizen that [I just] happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues, and that’s what the campaign’s all about.” Not a great answer, but enlightened in comparison to today’s GOP.

Colin Powell later said of the right’s attacks that Obama was Muslim: “The correct answer is, he is not a Muslim; he’s a Christian. He’s always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, ‘What if he is?’ Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer’s no, that’s not America.”

There was no chance during Thursday’s debate that Trump was going to talk policy because he doesn’t have one, or even two. He’s running on grievances and payback, and he proceeded on that track Thursday because there was no one there to call him out.

CNN’s stewardship of the debate broke from decades of tradition that saw the nonprofit Commission on Presidential Debates facilitate and manage the debate process. The debate broadcast from an audience-free CNN studio in Atlanta is likely to deliver the cable news’ network’s largest audience in its four-decade history.

That is a scary prospect.

Thursday’s debate is going to require some tough decisions by the Democrats. Does the party stick with Biden and risk losing the country, or run someone who has the energy and voice to put up a fight against the bulldozer that is Trump and MAGA?

If Thursday’s debate is any indication, the stakes are too high to leave things as they are.

David Medalla at the Hammer Museum: curiously absorbing art

David Medalla, a Filipino artist who died in Manila in 2020 at age 82, is not well known in the United States. “A Stitch in Time,” perhaps his most widely admired work, was an interactive, multiyear piece that he began in London in 1968 by inviting the audience to sew small objects, images or texts of personal significance onto a large cloth suspended in a public space. Its 1998 inclusion in “Out of Actions: Between Performance and the Object, 1949-1979” at the Museum of Contemporary Art is one of the few times Medalla’s art has been shown in Los Angeles.

Now, the UCLA Hammer Museum is presenting “David Medalla: In Conversation With the Cosmos,” organized by interim chief curator Aram Moshayedi, the first American retrospective of the artist’s work and a curiously absorbing affair. “A Stitch in Time” is not included (some documentary material related to it is, including a drawing and a tin box stuffed with bits of cloth and spools of thread). With just a few sculptures and paintings, the show is largely composed of works on paper — scores of drawings, watercolors, notations, sketchbooks, posters, notepads, photographs, scrapbooks and other assorted ephemera — plus documentary photographs by colleagues. The most frequent material Medalla employed over the course of half a century seems to have been ballpoint pen.

Did I mention that his drawings tend to be pretty terrible? They are — at least in the traditional sense of skillfully developed and captivating rendering, or what has been called “artisanal competence” (sometimes derisively). Looking at them is sort of like rifling through the diary of someone with really poor penmanship.

His drawings are rarely where he worked out the look of a painting or sculpture, and none seems to have been intended as a standalone art object. The data can be interesting, even if the look is unripe and sometimes crabbed. The show’s primary exceptions are three vivid, colorfully explosive 1962-63 studies for an impossible sculpture-machine that would ooze molten lava into random patterns — Earth’s primal forces simultaneously destroying and creating.

David Medalla, “Lava Machine,” 1962, acrylic on paper.

(UCLA Hammer Museum)

Perhaps the studies were inspired by contemporaneous, widely reported activity of Hawaii’s dramatic Kilauea volcano and the epic, year-long eruption of Gunung Agung volcano in Indonesia. Volcanic action is hardly uncommon in the Philippines. Whatever the case, with magma running at 1,300 to 2,200 degrees, production of an actual lava sculpture-machine was unlikely. The imaginative drawings entice.

In a notebook entry, Medalla explains that he began to draw in 1943 at age 5, during the brutal Japanese occupation of Manila, when his four older siblings gave him a set of watercolors, colored pencils and pads of paper to play with. He kept at it until he was felled by a stroke in 2016. There’s no indication that he ever developed facility with it.

Nor is there any indication that he wanted to. What begins as rudimentary contour drawings of figures in flat black ink, including male nudes and the intertwined heads of kissing boys, is soon accompanied by scratchy ballpoint sketches, often on ruled paper, of things rumbling through the artist’s head. Images span performance ideas, political sloganeering, plans for kinetic art objects, fascinations with Rosa Luxemburg, the Polish German socialist thinker, Arthur Rimbaud, radical French poet, and more. That early childhood identification of the manual activity of drawing with feelings of social, homosexual and familial warmth repeatedly shines through the exhibition.

It also lurks within the absent “A Stitch in Time.” That participatory project was birthed by serendipity. Medalla had given embroidered handkerchiefs, needles and thread to two ex-lovers, urging them to add embroidery to the cloth at their leisure, in any way they liked. Years later, in a random encounter in Amsterdam with a backpacker from Bali, Medalla discovered one of those handkerchiefs in his possession.

David Medalla's "Kumbum" are politically charged 1971-72 newspaper stories pasted onto colorful poster boards.

David Medalla’s “Kumbum” are politically charged 1971-72 newspaper stories pasted onto colorful poster boards.

(Christopher Knight / Los Angeles Times)

Maybe by chance, the original launch of “A Stitch in Time” also coincided with a landmark labor-relations dispute in the United Kingdom, in which sewing collided with tangled questions of gender and skill. (The peripatetic Medalla lived and worked primarily in London, where he co-founded Signals Gallery, with stints in Paris, New York and Berlin, and he traveled widely, returning periodically to Manila.) London’s 1968 sewing machinists’ strike at a Ford factory, led by six women, caused a huge public uproar when the auto company sought to cut wages for the women’s “less skilled production job” of sewing seat covers rather than welding chassis. The women’s strike, ultimately successful, prompted passage of a national equal pay act.

Medalla’s performance actions sometimes employed fanciful homemade masks — amusing, although nothing special, based on the few displayed examples. Often, the actions took direct aim at social issues, including the shocking imposition of martial law in his previously democratic, post-colonial homeland. Tiered shelves in one Hammer gallery feature a few dozen collages on a rainbow of brightly colored poster boards — titled “Kumbum,” after the endless manifestations of Buddha’s bodies in Tibetan lore — each simply an informational newspaper story or full-page pasted down. Several include scrawled Medalla text that lambastes Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos, one for shutting down the resolutely liberal broadsheet, the Manila Chronicle, founded at the end of World War II.

The show’s standout work, though, is “Cloud Canyons” (2017), one of a series of kinetic sculptures Medalla began exhibiting in 1964. Frothy clouds of soapy bubbles emerge from the tops of five clear plastic pillars, which rise from a circular platform that hides the bubble-compressors. Transitory columns of evanescent foam rise, droop and fall. The foamy shapes recall solid prewar sculptures by Naum Gabo, Constantin Brancusi and Jean Arp, while the kinetic machine creates ephemeral drawings in space, a motif of central importance in Western art after World War II.

Medalla said the work was inspired by personal experience, including an indelible memory of the scary frothing mouth of a wounded Japanese soldier he discovered in the family garden when he was a small child. Constructed right after his lovely but impossible drawings for an erupting lava-machine sculpture, the bubble sculpture is also inescapably erotic. The steadily oozing phallic cycle implies a sequence of erection, ejaculation and flaccid rest, only to endlessly repeat. That five climaxing columns cluster tightly together infers an abstract same-sex orgy — another primal force simultaneously destroying and creating.

‘David Medalla: In Conversation With the Cosmos’

Where: UCLA Hammer Museum, 10899 Wilshire Blvd., Westwood
When: Tuesdays-Sundays, through Sept. 15
Cost: Free
Info: (310) 443-7000, www.hammer.ucla.edu

Jonathan Van Ness responds to being called a ‘monster’ at work

Jonathan Van Ness is speaking out against allegations that they were a “monster” to work with on the “Queer Eye” set.

The allegations in question came from multiple members of the “Queer Eye” production crew, who told Rolling Stone that the beauty guru known for warmth on screen was actually a “nightmare,” “demeaning,” “abusive” and had “rage issues.” Van Ness — who uses they/he/she pronouns — would allegedly lash out at others weekly, creating a hostile work environment and potentially contributing to fellow host Bobby Berk’s departure from the series.

“They’re really centered around having this warmth, love, and care for other people,” one anonymous source told Rolling Stone. “There’s a real contrast between that and the way that they treat the people who are closest to them across the board. It’s the opposite of what this person is touted and paid to be.”

Van Ness responded to the allegations, which were published in early March, on Wednesday’s “Table Manners” podcast, saying things were “taken out of context” and that the journalist wanted to “make [Van Ness] look as bad as possible.”

Still, Van Ness “didn’t even get on social media … for like three weeks, and any time I tried to dip my toe in, I would immediately see something that was so intensely hurtful.”

The JVN hair care founder said the Queer Eye team learned in December that the article was being written and were “walking on eggshells” for months, waiting for publication.

“I think a lot of people were looking for a reason to hate me or looking for a reason to be like, ‘See I always knew that they were a fake c—,’” Van Ness said.

The reality star did acknowledge that the story inspired self-reflection and encouraged them to step away from the spotlight to process what had happened.

“One thing it taught me was that I had been getting so much self-esteem from social and my job that I didn’t really think that I did get so much self-esteem from it,” Van Ness said.

“My family was so supportive, and my husband, and my team.”

Justin Timberlake is bringing social back, after DWI arrest

Justin Timberlake’s bringing interacting-with his-fans-on-social-media back, (yeah).

The “SexyBack” and “What Goes Around … Comes Around” singer returned Tuesday to Instagram to show off exclusive tour merchandise commemorating the Madison Square Garden stops on his Forget Tomorrow World Tour — yes, that world tour. Timberlake made his social media comeback a week after he was arrested on suspicion of driving while intoxicated in the Hamptons.

Timberlake’s Instagram reel shows the Grammy-winning singer, 43, holding up a dark blue tour shirt with bright and bold orange text detailing his New York concert dates. “This is so important right now,” he says, perhaps with a bit of sarcasm. “Let’s go.”

“Got y’alls Knicks colors,” he continues, referring the NBA team that calls Madison Square Garden home. “We had to do it.”

Timberlake will continue his MSG takeover Wednesday before heading over to Boston for two shows. Before hitting the East Coast this week, the “Trolls” star performed in Chicago, where he broke his silence on his recent arrest.

The former ‘N Sync frontman got candid for his Windy City fans, telling them, “It’s been a tough week.”

Then he added: “But you’re here and I’m here. Nothing can change this moment right now. I know sometimes I’m hard to love, but you keep on loving me and I love you right back. Thank you so much.”

Timberlake was arrested early June 18 in Sag Harbor Village, on the eastern end of Long Island. Police officials told The Times last week that the singer failed to stop at a stop sign and failed to remain in his lane.

Since then, several reports have shed light on the arrest. CNN published surveillance video of Timberlake driving in the Hamptons, and Page Six reported that the singer allegedly told a cop unaware of his celebrity that the arrest was “going to ruin the tour.” When the officer asked “What tour?” Timberlake replied, “The world tour.” The report quickly went viral with social media users meme-ing the singer’s remark.

A bartender for the hotel where Timberlake allegedly drank before his arrest confirmed the singer’s claim that he had only one martini before his arrest, People reported.

“If he was drinking more, it wasn’t here,” another hotel employee told the outlet.

Timberlake launched his Forget Tomorrow World Tour in late April amid the release of his latest album, “Everything I Thought It Was.” Times critic Mikael Wood wrote in his review that Timberlake’s latest release is “larded with glib disco-funk tracks and morose, One Republic-style pop-rock tunes” but also offers “a handful of gems” including the songs “Love & War” and “What Lovers Do.”

Times staff writer Nardine Saad contributed to this report.

IATSE deal: Hollywood crew members, studios reach tentative contract

Film and TV crew members have reached a tentative contract deal with the major Hollywood studios after months of bargaining, the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees and the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers announced Tuesday night.

The resolution arrived before the current contract’s expiration date, finally permitting the entertainment industry to breathe a sigh of relief in the wake of two marathon strikes waged by actors and screenwriters. IATSE’s Hollywood Basic Agreement spans three years and covers some 50,000 craftspeople primarily based in Los Angeles.

The tentative deal includes updated terms related to pay, pension and health benefits, work-life balance, job security, subcontracting, streaming residuals and artificial intelligence.

“From start to finish, your input was invaluable and ensured that our Negotiations Committee was at the bargaining table with clear goals and a consensus for how to achieve them,” IATSE’s negotiating team said Tuesday in a memo to members. “The ratification timeline will be forthcoming and we look forward to presenting to you the complete package.”

A summary of the deal will be released within the next few days, followed by a full copy of the document in roughly two weeks. The deal must then be ratified by the union’s membership before the memorandum of agreement can officially go into effect.

So far, the union has revealed that the deal contains wage-scale increases of 7%, 4%, and 3.5% over the three-year term. It also stipulates that hourly workers are entitled to triple-time pay whenever the workday exceeds 15 hours — an effort by the union to dissuade employers from scheduling marathon shoot days.

Additionally, on-call employees would receive double-time pay on the seventh day of the work week under the new agreement.

The deal includes terms related to artificial intelligence as well, mandating that “no employee is required to provide AI prompts in any manner that would result in the displacement of any covered employee,” according to Tuesday’s announcement.

IATSE and the AMPTP returned to the bargaining table this week after failing to close the deal during the previous round of general negotiations earlier this month. Last to fall into place were terms related to wages, pension and health benefits, according to a union source who was not authorized to comment.

IATSE — which advocates for costume designers, makeup artists, hairstylists, cinematographers, set decorators, lighting technicians, camera operators and other craftspeople — has been campaigning for a new contract since early March. The labor organization’s current pact with the major studios went into effect in 2021 and was set to expire July 31, 2024.

Heading into general negotiations for the Hollywood Basic Agreement, the union was seeking “significant” wage increases to keep up with inflation, higher penalties for rest-period violations, enhanced sick leave and bumps in streaming residuals, as well as regulations around subcontracting and AI. Crew members also demanded funding for their pension and health plans amounting to at least $670 million.

Hollywood’s below-the-line workers concluded general negotiations with the AMPTP about seven months after actors resolved their labor dispute with the entertainment companies.

The overlapping writers’ and actors’ walkouts came as a devastating blow to workers and employers alike. The resulting production shutdown hobbled studios’ release schedules, while countless actors, writers and crew members suffered without work.

Since the strikes lifted, production has been slow to return and numerous entertainment professionals remain unemployed, especially in California, amid a long-brewing industry contraction.

The pullback — largely caused by the companies’ overspending during the streaming wars of the last few years — has manifested in watershed corporate mergers, mass layoffs and shrinking production slates.

Thus, IATSE’s contract campaign arrives at a critical moment for the film and TV business. Initially, both workers and studios were wary of the crew members’ negotiations with the AMPTP leading to another potential strike.

IATSE has never gone on strike in its long history. Nonetheless, members and allies prepared for the worst case scenario by donating money, groceries, meals, shared rides, childcare, temporary housing and other forms of aid to workers in need.

Before launching its contract campaign, IATSE promised that negotiations would culminate in either a ratification vote or a strike-authorization vote.

But it became increasingly clear that IATSE’s dealings with the AMPTP wouldn’t culminate in a walkout once the first phase of negotiations — separate bargaining sessions tailored to the specific concerns of each of the union’s 13 West Coast studio locals — transpired on schedule without incident.

Fresh off the success of the craft-specific talks, the sentiment between the union and the studios was conciliatory and productive approaching general negotiations.

“It’s civil,” IATSE international president Matthew Loeb told The Times in April as the trade-specific negotiations were wrapping up. “Everybody wants to avoid a strike.”

Ahead of the union’s final push, nearly 400 Hollywood actors, writers, directors and producers signed a letter advocating for crew members. Signatories included Quinta Brunson, Mark Ruffalo, Connie Britton, Ryan Coogler, Amy Schumer, Shaka King, Destin Daniel Cretton, Pamela Adlon, Olivia Wilde, Jonathan Groff, Nick Kroll, Lamorne Morris, Lilly Wachowski, Boots Riley, Gina Prince-Bythewood, Natasha Lyonne, Seth Rogen and Kerry Washington.

The letter urged the AMPTP to land on “a fair contract that acknowledges [crew members’] essential contributions to production and allows these behind-the-scenes artists, artisans, and craftspeople to live and retire with dignity.”

“These crewmembers dedicate their lives to their artistry and to their departments– working long hours in often challenging conditions to bring stories to life,” the letter continued.

Teamsters Local 399 — which represents drivers, mechanics, warehouse workers, animal handlers and other tradespeople on film and TV sets — is also pursuing a new contract and has yet to secure a tentative agreement with the AMPTP.

‘I Am: Celine Dion’ director on documenting singer’s agony

“This is by far the biggest crowd I’ve had in a few years,” said Celine Dion onstage at Lincoln Center last week. She was making a rare appearance to introduce “I Am: Celine Dion,” a documentary chronicling her struggles with stiff-person syndrome, a rare neurological disorder that causes muscle rigidity and has made it difficult for her to do the thing that has most defined her since childhood: sing.

“I cannot believe how fortunate I am to have my fans in my life,” Dion said, pausing to hold back tears as her son, René-Charles Angélil, who was waiting on the side of the stage, handed her a tissue. “Thank you to all of you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of my journey. This movie is my love letter to each of you. I hope to see you all again very soon.”

Director Irene Taylor was not exactly a Dion aficionado when she got a call a few years ago asking if she’d be open to making a film about the French Canadian singer who is known for her powerhouse vocals.

“Honestly, I thought it was not going to be a good fit. I don’t say that out of arrogance. I was like, “What would they want from me? This is not the kind of movie I make,” said Taylor in a video chat. Her previous documentaries include the deeply personal “Moonlight Sonata: Deafness in Three Movements,” about her deaf son and father. She was eventually won over by Dion and tried to approach her subject “with no peripheral vision,” Taylor said. “I really just tried to look at the person in front of me and what was happening.”

The documentary, now streaming on Prime Video, uses clips of performances and interviews from Dion’s 40-year career and traces the basics of her biography — beginning with her childhood in Quebec, where she was the youngest of 14 children, and then her crossover journey from French-language teen star to a chart topper with power ballads like “Because You Loved Me” and “My Heart Will Go On.”

Weaving archival material with contemporary footage of Dion opening up about her health struggles, “I Am: Celine Dion” shows the singer at her most vulnerable, both emotionally and physically.

Gone are the glitz and glamour associated with her onstage persona; Dion appears mostly makeup-free in casual dress, making goofy videos with her adolescent twins. She comes off as endearingly kooky — at one point she breaks out into the Kit Kat “Gimme a break” jingle — but also self-aware and very funny, like when she delivers an impromptu monologue about her love of shoes.

She is also candid about the extent of her health issues, revealing in the film that she had, by then, been experiencing symptoms for 17 years. What first manifested through occasional vocal strain grew steadily more debilitating, forcing her to find ways to fake it on stage and cancel shows — something that she, a performer with a zealous work ethic and devotion to her fans, found nearly as painful as the physical condition itself.

Perhaps most unforgettably, the film captures Dion as she is stricken with an episode of her illness in the middle of a physical therapy session. While lying on a table, she suddenly freezes. And though she can barely make a sound, her wrenched face conveys the agony she’s experiencing. At the New York screening, audience members could be heard weeping throughout the scene.

Director Irene Taylor on her approach to filming Celine Dion, shown in a scene from the documentary: “I really just tried to look at the person in front of me and what was happening.”

(Amazon MGM Studios)

Taylor followed Dion for about a year, spending several days with her a month, and found her brave and authentic — qualities that she hopes come through in the film.

“She was down to earth with me,” she said, “so I just wanted to show the woman who showed me herself.”

Taylor spoke with The Times the day after the screening in New York. The following conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Did you know about her diagnosis when you signed up to make this film?

I did not know about her illness when I signed on to do this. She had been withholding it from the world, including me. It all made sense once I talked with her. I realized it was a pretty devastating lie that she was telling people for years. Her athleticism on stage did not suggest that she was sick. Yes, she was canceling some shows, but she found ways to fake it.

In the beginning, I didn’t know what the film would be about. I didn’t really know what my take would be. I just knew it would be a portrait of her. She had asked me, “Is it possible to make a documentary where no one else is in the documentary, it’s just me?” That would sound very self-centered coming from a certain kind of person, but it was a genuine question. I told her, “It’s certainly possible, but it’s going to be a harder road for you because I need more of your time, and I need your authentic self.”

But Celine was so straight with me. She never told me to stop filming. In fact, she said, “Don’t talk to me about whether you can do something or not, because it’ll throw me off. You’re here in my home, you’ve got carte blanche, do what you need to do.” That is a profound tool to give me. She did not get involved in my editing. She did not ask me to change anything. It is a rare opportunity to be able to make a film about a public figure and have that much agency.

At what point did you learn about the illness?

I got a call saying, “Could we talk about this?” It was a call with someone from the record company and a couple of people from her management team and they basically said, “She’s not well, and we don’t have a name for it.” There wasn’t consensus about it. I had that information going into the first day of shooting, and then it was like a fire hose at me. “Seventeen years, I’ve been lying to everybody. I am feeling so guilty.” I was so overwhelmed that first day. I think she had been holding it in for a long time. Over the first half of filming, I was watching her flail, not knowing what she had, and the doctors not knowing what to do about it. Then over time, there was consensus, and she was very relieved when she got the diagnosis, even though it’s an orphan disease. She said to me, “I don’t want to have a rare disease. No one knows how to fix it.”

When she got that formal diagnosis, that is when she wanted to tell the world, and the way she wanted to do that was through Instagram — just tell people directly. So I pivoted in my filmmaking and decided how to incorporate her telling the world into the story.

Celine Dion standing on a stage backlit with blue lights in a black outfit holding her arm out in front of her.

Irene Taylor said she didn’t know Celine Dion had been battling a deblitating illness for years when she took on the documentary project.

(Richard Shotwell / Invision / Associated Press)

With celebrities and public figures, it can be hard to get them off of their narrative. How did you find her as an interview subject?

I had reservations about making the film, because I saw “Celine Dion” in quotes, as a very cultivated public figure. She had a persona, and I was a little cynical about that. I didn’t want to make a film about someone who had an agenda. It took getting to talk with her, and then just connecting with each other on a personal level about certain personal things. We both love trees. We both raise boys. She was very interested in picking apart everything that was in [the background on] our Zoom calls: “What’s that?” You could tell she was just trying to piece me together.

I had made very intimate films about people I know very well, like my parents and my son. I just didn’t know where she’d fit in. In the end, I realized that the fact that Celine was so used to cameras, the fact that she had lived her life under lights, actually made her a very authentic subject. I realized that, instead of [her celebrity] being something to be wary of, it actually was working in my favor, but only because she had decided, “I have nowhere else to go.” She seemed to have it all. In fact, she was living a very private lie, and she called it a lie. I was amazed at the language she was willing to use to describe herself.

We see Dion have this very intense episode, where it’s clear she’s in excruciating pain. Tell me about filming that what was going through your head?

This all happened all in a matter of a minute. We were in a physical therapy session. We were 10 minutes out of two days of [her] recording [music] for the first time in several years. She left feeling elated, because she didn’t think she’d be able to do it. Ironically, it is that elation, that emotional high, that can trigger this kind of response. We could have turned the camera off, but we had been filming for eight months at that point, and Celine said, “Film everything.” I thought to myself, “I gotta make sure this woman’s breathing,” so I just pushed my headphones into my ear, and I listened, and I could not hear her breathing. I asked, “Is she breathing?” She was able to squeeze [the therapist’s] hand. I looked at my [director of photography], and we just kept going.

I was actually grateful that about four minutes into the episode, you hear her therapist mention that the cameras are in the room, and he checks with her if it’s OK. I wasn’t sure what she would say in that moment, but she said it was OK. I couldn’t believe what had happened, and I was so grateful she was OK, but I realized that it might be an opportunity, if Celine was up for it, to really show and really validate her suffering.

Six months later, I showed her a rough cut of the film. I was very nervous. I knew there was no way I would ever do this without her consent. She said, “I think this film will help me.” Then she said, “Don’t cut down that scene.”

How did this project change your perception of her? Are you a fan now, or at least an admirer?

A filmmaker should be very wary of getting intoxicated by anything. But I really did allow myself to be inspired by her. We’re almost the same age. I have my health, and I watched someone who was really struggling. She finds so much joy in making music that she is going to come out with something on the other side of this that is going to be very powerful. It may not be the Celine Dion that hit the money notes and basically does three aerobics classes during a concert. It might be a different intensity, it might be a different artistic approach, it might be a different way of performing. But I can tell you she is very focused on being an advocate for people with this disease.

Actors Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Talulah Riley tie the knot

Thomas Brodie-Sangster is in love — and there’s nothing he can do about it!

The “Love Actually” child star, 34, married actor Talulah Riley, 38, in a 14th-century church in the village of Anstey, England, over the weekend. The bride arrived in a horse-drawn carriage wearing an elegant white satin dress and lace-lined veil, while the groom opted for a blue suit, white scarf and floral waistcoat, according to photos obtained by The Sun.

The couple, who recently purchased a manor estate near the church, beamed while onlookers threw confetti as they exited together. Guests followed their carriage to the fields near their home, where the reception featured fairground rides including a merry-go-round, an onlooker told the outlet.

The couple met in 2021 on the set of the Disney+ miniseries “Pistol.” This is Brodie-Sangster’s first marriage. Riley was previously married to tech tycoon Elon Musk — twice.

Though the couple have yet to comment on their nuptials, Brodie-Sangster announced their engagement last July on his Instagram, cheekily noting, “Love is all around.”

Julie Chrisley to be resentenced for tax evasion case

Things are looking up for “Chrisley Knows Best” mom Julie Chrisley.

The 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in Atlanta on Friday said it will vacate the former USA Network reality star’s current prison sentence for tax evasion. According to court documents obtained by local outlet WSBTV, the district court said it “did not identify the evidence it relied on to hold Julie accountable” for multiple years of fraud also involving her husband Todd Chrisley and their accountant Peter Tarantino starting in 2007.

“We cannot independently find it in the record,” the court document says.

The appeals court said it will hand her case back to the district court “to make the factual findings and calculations necessary to determine loss, restitution, and forfeiture” relating to her new sentence. Julie, 51, is carrying out her prison sentence in a facility in Lexington, Ky.

In June 2022, Todd and Julie Chrisley were convicted of tax evasion and bank fraud. Todd, 56, was initially sentenced to 12 years in Florida’s Federal Prison Camp Pensacola. Julie was initially ordered to serve seven years. Last year, both received reductions in their sentences: Todd is set to be released nearly two years earlier than originally scheduled, and Julie 14 months earlier.

The appeal court’s decision Friday marks a victory for the Chrisley family, whose lawyers have been working to appeal the stars’ verdict and prison sentences since late last year.

Attorney Jay Surgent, one of Julie and Todd’s legal representatives, told The Times in an email statement Monday that his team is “pleased” with the decision and noted that Julie may be eligible for an earlier release. While disappointed that the appeals court did not remand Todd, Surgent said he is hopeful for further appeal efforts.

“We also have other legal maneuvers that will be implemented on Todd’s behalf,” Surgent said.

Savannah Chrisley, the couple’s eldest daughter, broke the news of her mother’s appeal on Saturday. “Didn’t necessarily go as we had hoped but we do have a little win,” the 26-year-old “Unlocked” podcast host said on Instagram.

“For that I am grateful and I hope and pray that the judge can send her home,” Savannah said, before adding she is confident her mother “will be coming sooner rather than later.”

Later in her video, she added: “I have some other ideas up my sleeve to get dad home.”

The Associated Press contributed to this report.