Late one evening in 2003, Emma Thompson sat alone in her London flat, surrounded by the wreckage of a very public divorce The press had been relentless. Her marriage to Kenneth Branagh had ended amid scandal, and the woman who'd won an Oscar for bringing Jane Austen's words to life couldn't find any of her own. Then came a knock at the door. Alan Rickman stood there holding a bottle of wine and nothing else—no advice, no pity, no expectations. He walked in, sat down, and stayed through the night. He didn't ask her to explain. He didn't tell her it would be okay. He just sat with her in the darkness, offering the rarest gift one human can give another: silent, judgment-free presence. "You saved me without trying," Thompson later wrote to him. "And that's the kind of love I trust most." Their friendship had begun years earlier during a 1980s stage production, when Thompson met a man whose fierce gaze and commanding silence intimidated most people. But she saw past the intensity to something tender underneath. "I recognized a fellow creature," she said, "one who felt deeply but rarely said as much." By the time they filmed "Sense and Sensibility" in 1995, their bond had deepened into something rare in Hollywood—a friendship built on creative trust and emotional safety. While Thompson juggled the impossible pressure of starring in and adapting a beloved classic, Rickman quietly anchored her. "Alan had a way of being in the room that made you feel you belonged there too," she remembered. What made their connection extraordinary wasn't grand gestures or public declarations. It was the accumulation of small, sacred moments. The long conversations about betrayal and forgiveness during "Love Actually." The way he never demanded she be strong when she was breaking. The trust that allowed complete vulnerability without fear. Then, years later, Rickman fell ill. For a long time, he told almost no one about his cancer diagnosis. But Thompson knew. She noticed how he tired more easily, how his already quiet nature turned more introspective. One afternoon during a charity film shoot, he finally told her. They stood in silence for several moments. "Alright," she said simply. "Then we walk through this together." In those final years, Rickman opened up in ways he never had before—sharing memories, regrets, and hopes with the one person he trusted completely. Thompson told him she had loved him from the beginning, though they'd never crossed the lines of friendship. He laughed. "You would've ruined me." "No, Alan," she replied. "I would've healed you." When Rickman died in 2016, Thompson released a letter calling him "the truest of friends." Their bond had never been about celebrity or performance. It had been real, raw, and sacred—a story written in glances, in trust, in the knowledge that some people don't come into your life to dazzle you, but to hold a steady light. Thompson keeps one of his handwritten notes tucked in her wallet: "Always speak the truth. It costs less." And she still visits their favorite café, orders two teas, and talks to him like he's still listening—because the truest friendships never really end. They just change form, becoming something even more permanent: memory transformed into grace, loss transformed into gratitude, and silence transformed into the loudest kind of love.

THIS BOY! A couple weeks ago, I was teary, Carson came in and asked what was wrong. I read him a Facebook post about a mother of a 16 yr old girl with special needs, looking for a date for her daughter to go to her school prom. He said, “Mom, I will do it!”. And so he did! We went the day before her prom to decorate her room, and let Izzie meet Carson. Then, he accompanied her to prom, where she was crowned Dutchess. Afterwards, he sat in her room for over an hour and watched cartoons with her! SO TENDER, this boy! Izzie is a darling girl, non-verbal, wheelchair bound, on a feeding tube and mostly uncommunicative. However, there were a few times when her eyes met Carson’s and she lit up like the 4th of July... and, well, so did he! We are all far more alike than we will ever be different. In a world full of choices, choose kindness! Just a story about a boy I am blessed to call “son!” He makes me want to be better, do better! Credit: Trina Huff Preece

Sylvester Stallone - “Tulsa King” At 79 years old, Sylvester Stallone is currently starring in “Tulsa King,” a successful TV series created by Taylor Sheridan ( “Landman,” “1923,” “1883” and many other Paramount shows). Stallone plays, Dwight Manfredi, a New York Mafia Capo who is released from prison after 25 years. Instead of rewarding him for his loyalty, serving time for a crime he didn't commit, the NY Family exiles him to Oklahoma, like a cow to pasture, thinking he will crash and burn. Much to their dismay, instead, he builds a crew (not Italian), and uses his New York bravado to take over the territory. Stallone's Manfredi is a complex antihero / hero with the swagger and mentality of the Sicilian families that were sent to the U S in the 1890s. However, unlike the stereotypical Mafia character, he's not a savage, and he builds a Boss that uses a direct approach to create connections. Of course, this doesn't always work. No matter what, you will find yourself rooting for him to defeat anyone who tries to get in his way. Stallone has been in 82 roles. He's known for starring in “Rocky, “Rambo,” “The Creed Series,” “The Expendables,” “The Suicide Squad” and many others. He's a Director, Actor, Screenwriter. He has been nominated for many awards, and won a couple. However, no one's success can be measured by the number of statues they have. Think of the actors who have won an Academy Award and then their careers declined. Stallone's notoreity comes from his self taught, refusal to give up mentally, and he has continually surprised us no matter whether director, producer, Screenwriter or actor. Sylvester Stallone is an icon with or without an award.

Seagal’s downfall came from stale roles, poor acting, and his embrace of Putin that killed Hollywood ties Steven Seagal is not blacklisted in any real sense. He’s more or less just retired in his 70’s after a career that fell apart on its own because he was never much of an actor to begin with. Beyond that, he moved to Russia, became a Russian citizen and became pals with dictator Vladimir Putin. We used to call such behavior “defecting,” by the way. And there isn’t much room in anyone’s heart for a defector to a fascist country who offers his full-throated support for Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Regardless, Seagal’s career hasn’t been much to write home about since 2001. Other than reality TV and direct to video releases, he foundered for years, never able to reclaim the glory of his early action films. This can best be chalked up to his extremely limited range as an actor - he can only play one role, a “one man army” in a martial arts film - and even that had gotten stale by 2001. This meant Seagal was never able to pivot or reinvent himself once fans tired of the niche genre he occupied. And his bullshido schtick has not aged well, becoming more insane over the years. So his career died a natural death long ago.

It’s all becausen of a 1932 film called Rasputin and the Empress. In it, the infamous Russian mystic Rasputinseduces the Tsar’s only niece. The movie begins with a note — some of the characters in the film are still alive, and those who are not, met gruesome fates. All-but assuring the audience that this movie was, in fact, NOT fiction.  The problem? The actual assassin of Rasputin and his wife, were still alive when the film was shown. And they went to see it. Felix Yusupov was appalled, but his wife was even more furious — she was the Tsar’s only niece and felt personally insulted by the film. She sued MGM studios, the American company behind the movie. And won, big time. The royal assassin and his wife got about a million bucks out of it, which would be worth 22 million in today’s currency. A disclaimer was then added to all films based on real events where some of the characters are still alive. [1] Movies add the disclaimer because they’re vulnerable to being sued and losing the case, if they do imply that the film is entirely true to life. We owe the existence of this disclaimer to the wife of the man who killed Grigori Rasputin

In 1950, the United States government launched a secret biological attack on its own citizens—and for 20 years, they didn't tell a soul. It was a crisp September morning in San Francisco when a US Navy ship began spraying a massive, invisible cloud of bacteria into the fog just outside the Golden Gate Bridge. This wasn't a foreign enemy; it was the US military. Over the course of six days, they released Serratia marcescens and Bacillus globigii—two pathogens chosen specifically because they were thought to be "harmless." The goal was to track how a biological weapon would spread through a major American city. The experiment was a terrifying success. The bacteria swept through the city’s microclimates, infiltrating every neighborhood, school, and hospital. By the end of the week, nearly all of San Francisco's 800,000 residents had inhaled millions of bacterial spores. The military monitored the spread using 43 sampling stations, proving that a single release could effectively infect an entire metropolitan area. But there was a problem with the "harmless" theory. Within days of the spraying, a local hospital saw an unprecedented outbreak of rare urinary tract infections. Eleven people were hospitalized with serious complications. One man, Edward Nevin, a retired pipefitter recovering from surgery, died three weeks later after the bacteria reached his heart. The military kept the data classified, and the public remained completely unaware that they had been used as lab rats in a simulated doomsday scenario. It wasn't until 1976, during a Senate subcommittee hearing, that the truth of "Operation Sea-Spray" finally emerged, forever shattering the illusion of domestic safety during the Cold War.

Jim Carrey recently debuted his brand new face at the César Awards in Paris. His lips, cheekbones and jaw seemed grotesquely swollen. He looked like he got stung by a bee. And no, I’ve seen worse, don’t get me wrong. Some celebrities have had far more work done, and look far worse. But still, it rather shocked me Below, I’ll post a picture of Jim Carrey a year earlier. He was a handsome older man, thick head of hair, had a great beard. He looked like a prophet from the Old Testament. And now, he looms like the unfortunate victim of the vicious and relentless attack of some newly discovered species of poisonous jellyfish… I’ve never understood why people do this to themselves? Jim Carrey was never a Brad Pitt, he was never Hollywood’s most handsome man, but he was far from ugly. He’s 64 and he was, up until this point, aging really well. And now, this… One thing I’ll never understand is this weird obsession people have with looking young. To the point where they will undergo extensive surgery to pull it off, and ruin their faces nine out of ten times. Why not do what Sean Connery, Harrison Ford or Pierce Brosnan did and age naturally, embracing wrinkles and grey hair? Jim Carrey has a 16-year-old grandson, he’s not going to look 40 forever, no one does. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

He’s a fascinating chap, Geert Wilders. He was a firebrand anti-establishment leader for almost two decades, head of the opposition in the Netherlands. Then, in 2023, he won a shitload of seats in the Dutch parliament and his party was able to assume power — sort of. See Wilders had to… tone down his rhetoric. He couldn’t go around calling hijabs “head-rags” and insist those who wear them must pay “head-rags-tax”. Nor could he go around giving speeches, asking his followers if they want “more, or less Moroccans in the country?” and them chanting back: “Less! Less! Less!” as he looks on in adoration. No, Wilders couldn’t do that. The Dutch followers of them man jokingly call him “Geert Milders” now — a pun on the word “mild” because he’s milder now. One of Wilders’ new ministers even had to explain recently how “white replacement theory” is “Neo-Nazi rhetoric” and “dangerous”. This wouldn’t have happened a year ago. Geert Wilders is a calculating politician. So he changed his tone. Became Geert Milders. A neutral politician from an allied center-right party (Schoof) was pushed forward as Prime Minister, with Wilders’ party providing some of the ministers. And Wilders rules from the shadows, it is assumed. Is he “quite all there”? I’d say he is. He’s a very savvy politician.

In real-life, Mr. T. worked as a bouncer and joined weightlifting competitions. He also worked as a bodyguard and saw his share of violent situations. And the 1970s, he joined a competition called “America’s Toughest Bouncer”. And Mr. T. was right — he won the match against his gigantic opponent in a mere 54 seconds, Tufi ending up battered with a broken nose and bleeding from the mouth. Stallone then wrote a role with this tough bouncer in mind, and came up with the immortal words: “I pity the fool”. Which later became Mr. T.’s trademark. It was all born in a moment of supreme confidence, witnessed by a young Hollywood screenwriter who felt he could use that. You could say a legend was born that day. Mr. T. was a really strong man. Stallone was no slouch, worked hard and trained hard and I’m sure he could throw a solid punch. But in an actual real-world fight, he’d have lost — Mr. T. had a level of experience Stallone didn’t have. Real skill honed in decades of brutal experience in and out of the streets. He’d eat men like Stallone for breakfast, and Stallone knows this, as he is no fool. In the finale of the “toughest bouncer” contest, Mr. T. was facing a 6′5″, 280 pound behemoth of a man from Honolulu named Tutefano Tufi. Stallone watched the final match between T. and Tufi. And in his final interview before the match, Stallone heard him say: "I just feel sorry for the guy who I have to box. I just feel real sorry for him."

An interviewer once asked Sir Anthony Hopkins why you never see his pictures in the tabloids, walking into a restaurant or whatever. Hopkins answered: "Because I don't call ahead and tell them where I'm going". It’s a brilliant quote to me, as there’s a lot of truth in it — if you want privacy, you can still get it, and loads of it. What a lot of people don’t seem to realize is that a lot of celebrities need tabloids. And actively seem to court them. Movies benefit, too, from the ‘power couples’ and all the hyped up famous folks, doing things, going places… is actor X from this and that movie going somewhere with his co-star? Oh they must be dating, secretly! Anthony Hopkins doesn’t really do social media, either, he’s old-school — Mr. Hopkins writes letters. A few years ago, one of them leaked when he wrote a letter complimenting the actor Bryan Cranston on “the best acting he’d ever seen”, in Breaking Bad. It was a private moment of genuine praise from one actor to another. When it was leaked, Hopkins was pissed off. Now, he doesn’t write letters anymore, either. When I watched The Two Popes, I was amazed to find that Anthony Hopkins composed the piano songs his Benedict played, himself. This man has a lot of (hidden) talents. He was able to develop them because he’s from a generation that doesn’t endlessly scroll the internet — a generation of craftsmen, artisans, builders, composers of song and letters. A dying breed, thanks to the instant gratification of tabloids and the net.

I’ve always disliked Bryan Singer. Something about the man… does not sit right with me. I was shocked, but sadly not surprised, to hear how he was accused of quite a lot of inappropriate behavior with young actors. One of these very young actors was a young man named Brad Renfro. Here, above, we see a young Renfro with Singer. He just looks so… predatory, Singer. Renfro seems so uncomfortable. It was during the shooting of Apt Pupil, directed by Singer, in which the director insisted on Renfro doing a naked shower seen. He was just always up in the guy’s business, and there were more such men. Hollywood is quite a dark and twisted place Renfro had once been a young hopeful actor. Abandoned by his parents, he lived in a trailer park with his grandmother. He dreamed of making it big. And he did. But the price was high… the abuse he suffered from at the hands of Bryan Singer and others, eventually caused him to go off the rails. Massively. He got into alcohol. Drugs. Any known substance to man, Renfro took it. It was as if he wanted it all to end already… Brad Renfro, relentlessly abused by predatory Hollywood directors, died at the age of 25 of an overdose. His grandmother, who had raised him and accompanied him on all his childhood auditions, died of a broken heart just seventeen days later. And the story just… gets me, every time.