Why Firefly's return is exactly what we need right now
With the reveal that an animated Firefly revival is on the way, we explore what makes the show so special (and relevant).
Proving once again that Browncoats never say die, Firefly is coming back. As Mal Reynolds once said, “We’ve done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.” The once unceremoniously cancelled space western, previously revived in the form of a theatrical film, is coming back as an animated series. Having endured for far longer than any cancelled show should, Firefly is about to return to a very different world. It’s a world in desperate need of hope in the face of insurmountable odds, something the crew of the Serenity is all too familiar with. And it’s precisely because of that rag-tag crew of imperfect heroes that makes now the perfect time to bring back Firefly. At its heart, Firefly is the story of a found family. Where most shows cancelled after a short run of episodes are consigned to oblivion on Netflix, Firefly’s eccentric cast of loveable rogues has helped keep its spirit alive for over 20 years. Found families are integral to science fiction. Whether it's the crew of the Millennium Falcon or the Enterprise, different people, from different walks of life finding each other and uniting to take on a common enemy is the heart and soul of many a great space opera. What makes Firefly so special, and important, is the way that the show's main character, Serenity captain Mal Reynolds, rediscovers his revolutionary spirit through his found family. When we first meet Mal, and his partner in crime Zoe, they’re literal losers. The Browncoats, fighting for freedom and independence, lost the war against the Alliance. As Mal says, “War's long done, we’re all just folk now.” At the start of Firefly, he’s rudderless and bereft of that same fighting spirit that powered him through an impossible war. He’s just surviving until the full and complicated crew of the Serenity assembles. That’s what makes the idea of found family so revolutionary. ‘Bless this mess’ has never been more apt. If the Alliance represent a sense of uniformity, the found family of the Serenity, with its messy and complicated people, represents the freedom the Browncoats were fighting for. The crew of the Serenity aren’t perfect. They do bad things, they treat each other poorly. But they also love each other and fight for each other. In other words, they’re human. That’s what makes Firefly’s unique brand of found family so important in today’s world. By banding together with those both similar and different to ourselves to make strange and complicated found families, we can find that same revolutionary spirit that helps us stand up in the face of oppression. View Green Video on the source website These ideas aren’t unique to Firefly, of course, but the show takes its inspirations and develops them in unique and interesting ways to create something quietly different. The Millennium Falcon and her crew were a central inspiration for Firefly, with its found family spirit inherited from Star Wars – whose revolutionaries were always messy and complicated. Mal is a clear analogue for Han Solo, a reluctant hero with a heart of gold who, when the chips are down, will do what he needs to do to fight for the weak and stand up to oppression. In a post-Andor Star Wars universe, finding those small acts of revolution within each other has become even more important. Even when the oppression of the Alliance is overwhelming, there are few shows better at those small acts of rebellion than Firefly. Take the film, Serenity, as an example. A central plot point at the heart of the film focuses on the results of the Alliance’s attempt to placate the population of the planet Miranda and its subsequent cover-up. Their efforts ended up having extreme effects, with a percentage of the population becoming so placid that they simply stopped doing anything and died. The drug then had the opposite effect on the rest of the population, who became the violent Reavers from the show. Realising it is a secret that cannot remain hidden, the Firefly found family bands together to share the truth of the Alliance’s experiment with the universe. Unlike Luke blowing up the Death Star, this isn’t a bombastic act of rebellion. It is a quiet act of resistance, one that the Firefly crew specialises in and one that is ever more important to our modern and turbulent world. It reminds me of Rose Tico’s quote in The Last Jedi: “That's how we're gonna win. Not fighting what we hate, saving what we love.” That’s the spirit embodied by Firefly. The new animated show is set to bridge the gap between the series and the film, taking place across a roughly eight-month period. Fillion and the rest of the cast have gone to great lengths to explain that this is because they want to unite the whole Firefly family. As pilot and fan-favourite character Wash (Alan Tudyk), and the ship's spiritual centre Shepherd Book (played by the late Ron Glass), both died in Serenity, fitting the new series in before the film keeps that found family united on screen. It shows that this new revival still understands what makes Firefly so special. Without each member of this messy and complicated crew, the revolution cannot be fought. The scrappy, underdog spirit of Firefly, one that embraces the imperfect instead of disregarding it, should continue to be the beating heart of the show going forward. And that same revolutionary spirit that bleeds through the Firefly found family should remind us that our strength exists because we’re weird and complicated and diverse, like any good found family should be. After all, fans, like the crew of the Serenity, are a found family of Browncoats, fighting the television networks and studios to keep the ship flying at all costs. To, again, quote Mal Reynolds, “if you can't run, you walk, and if you can't walk, you crawl, and if you can't do that... you find someone to carry you.” Well, the Browncoats are here and we’re ready to carry this show for as long as we can. Firefly is available to stream on Disney+ UK. Sign-up to Disney+ from £5.99 a month. Add Firefly to your watchlist on the <a id="OWA8b702c45-bee9-94e4-f018-57518e78041b" title="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" href="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-outlook-id="449c28d9-909e-4aab-b6b8-153454f55d5e" data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0">Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. 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Is A Woman of Substance's most nauseating scene really that necessary?
Emma's arc could have easily done without one particularly violent storyline in episode 6.
*Warning: This article contains spoilers for all episodes of A Woman of Substance – available to watch in full on Channel 4 – and discussion of rape that some readers may find distressing.* From his first appearance in A Woman of Substance, it's clear to see that Gerald Fairley (Harry Cadby) is the kind of character who is so mean-spirited and cruel, he can't help but make your skin itch. We saw how he cast one of the maids aside in those early episodes, engaging her in a sexual relationship and ultimately seeing her as just one of the hired help when it came time to defend her in front of his family. So deep does his disdain for the lower working classes go that it is at the forefront of his entire interaction with Emma (Jessica Reynolds) when he finds out that she's the business owner behind Hamilton Equitable. In the sixth episode of the series, he's on a mission to find the people he owes money to, a matter that is looming like a dark cloud over his head. When he tracks down the address of the firm and finds out that it belongs to Emma, though, he merely discounts it as not being worthy of his time. Referring to her as a "jumped up housemaid" when he's standing in her bricks and mortar store is certainly brazen, but their interaction takes a deeply sinister turn once Emma reminds him of his legally binding contract with her company. Once she tries to usher him out (with it being Christmas Day), Gerald immediately turns to physical tactics, pushing her further into her own store and berating her as a "whore", telling her that Edwin (Ewan Horrocks) is now married. As soon as Gerald moves closer to Emma and touches her hips, I feel as though most women watching would immediately have a pit in their stomach, willing the series not to go in the direction they think it will. But unfortunately for the viewer – and ultimately, for Emma – it does. What ensues is a truly horrifying series of events as Gerald rapes Emma while telling her of how he used to watch her in his home when she worked there as a maid. Knowing how strong-willed Emma has been throughout the drama, the small possibility of her being able to attack Gerald with a nearby object seems like a hopeful carrot dangled in front of us – but sadly, it doesn't come to fruition. As if the scene couldn't become any more painful to watch, the camera pans to Emma's plaid skirt afterwards, now stained with "the final deposit and settlement of my account", as Gerald puts it while grinning. It's all really rather disgusting – and that feeling isn't just reserved for Gerald here. While Gerald's deranged joy is short-lived as Emma tell him she's going to call in his collateral (the family mill), it truly is the kind of scene that warrants a pause after watching. Rape scenes aren't exactly an easy watch for many but they aren't ones that should necessarily be shied away from, I think. After all, today's staggering statistics reveal that one in four women have been raped or sexually assaulted since the age of 16 in the UK. The impact, survival and justice aspects of those stories should be showcased. When depicting it on TV though, there should be a responsibility to ensure this 'plot device' is being handled appropriately and effectively. My issue comes when sexual violence against women is simply a surface-level storyline without any real depth, something that many shows – and some period dramas – have been guilty of in their time. 'Should the assault be shown in great detail?' and 'What does it actually add to the story?' are both questions that more series creators should consider. In the original novel by Barbara Taylor Bradford, the scene plays out in a similarly theatrical fashion, but is confined to a few mere paragraphs. Emma's point-of-view in the book reveals previous sexual advances and groping that Gerald subjected her to whilst working in Fairley Hall, which lays the foundation for how much of a vile character he is. With it being in the original novel, there's the case to be made that the series is simply honouring Bradford's writing. But in the world of adaptations aplenty and series creators putting their own spin on original material, omitting entire scenes, characters and the like, this needn't have been included. More importantly, did it need to play out in such a lurid manner? In the new TV series, the air is heavy with raw emotion in the aftermath of the scene as we see Emma going into auto-pilot, feigning smiles for her husband and their guests, and quickly changing out of her skirt once home. Her deep grounding breaths and the resulting scenes perfectly encapsulate the anachronistic attitudes around women just having to get on with whatever life threw at them. Compared to the original 1985 three-parter where we saw Jenny Seagrove's Emma escape Gerald's violent grip by reaching for a knife and holding it to his neck, this modern iteration could have easily taken a leaf out of that seminal series. The scenes in the two series unfold in very similar ways with a weapon laying close by – surely a nod to the '80s drama – but somehow, in this new instalment, Emma is made to suffer. In a series that's delightfully boasting a female-led creative team and is championing an assured heroine, do we really need to include such a graphic scene to underline Emma's comeback story? An arc can be triumphant without dragging a character down to life's rock bottom. What with Emma already having to face heartbreak, the death of both parents and relocation in a whole new town, surely she's been through more than any one character should take. We clearly understand that Emma has a vendetta against the Fairleys without needing to see one of the masters of the house violate her in such an unthinkable way. Throwing in a rape scene such as this one – where perhaps Gerald could have just been confronting and his usual classist, verbally aggressive self – appears gratuitous in the grand scheme of things. In keeping with the feeling of the time (I assume), decisions had clearly been made not to revisit the storyline later down the line. We're never steeped in Emma's emotions for too long and that's just the tone of the series. But when we're dealing with an event such as this one, can't space be made for a female protagonist to not simply exist on a robotic plain of emotions? Emma's blank stare at the end of the episode (alongside Gerald's accompanying narration) does eventually hint at the impact the assault has had on her, with it fuelling her plot against the wealthy family. But her mission to tear down the Fairleys was never that wavering to begin with so it remains an odd storyline inclusion, in my opinion. I myself had to stop the episode after watching the rape scene, worried that the show was unapologetically piling too much gratuitous trauma onto Emma. It's a feeling that I think many will feel after Gerald's assault and with his words ringing through the final scenes of the episode as he becomes even more vengeful against her, it's hard not to feel utterly deflated for our protagonist. A Woman of Substance is all about Emma's revenge plot against the Fairleys and we do know from the show's first scenes that she becomes a business mogul in her own right (when we see Brenda Blethyn take centre stage). But as to how she gets there, that's what the later episodes uncover. Not only does she call in that collateral and acquire the mill, she also has quite the defining final confrontation scene with the Fairleys where she admonishes the entire family one-by-one. When it comes to Gerald, she simply refers to him as "a monster and a weasel of a man who preys on women in a vain attempt to feel strong in the face of his own overwhelming weaknesses". That finale scene is a triumphant win in its own right for many reasons as Emma comes face-to-face with the family that has caused her so much pain, but did we really need Gerald's vicious scene to underline Emma's journey to eventual success? Emma finally arrives to Fairley Hall to enact her final twist of the knife and evicts them from their stately home, delighting in telling them that she is now the official homeowner. Ultimately, A Woman of Substance is a series that is about survival but by including a rape scene like this in the new adaptation, it's certainly taking that feeling to new heights. There will be some that won't understand why rape is being used as a plot device at all here and I have to agree. I don't have the answers – I'm not the one who wrote the series, nor am I the one to choose whether to make Gerald's confrontation one that was simply in line with the pathetic antagonist that he is, rather than utterly violating in the way it was depicted. I will say that Reynolds's performance is staggering throughout the series but especially in these scenes that warrant sadness, anger and sensitivity in equal measure, there's no doubt about the fact that she has made this series a special one. But when victory comes to Emma in A Woman of Substance's final episode and she has that final moment with Gerald, I look back on the show's assault scene and wonder about removing it entirely. If not that, at least making it an off-screen moment or one that could have been handled more delicately and not with the nigh-on melodramatic nature that has worked well throughout the rest of the drama. I think many watching A Woman of Substance will be able to appreciate Emma's eventual revenge plot and will be clapping their hands together when she does come out victorious. However, I think there will be those left feeling uneasy and realising that those dark scenes perhaps weren't necessary at all. For support and advice on matters raised in this article, please visit www.rapecrisis.org.uk, call the 24/7 Rape and Sexual Abuse Support Line on 0808 500 2222 or chat to Rape Crisis online 247sexualabusesupport.org.uk. A Woman of Substance continues on Wednesday 18 and Thursday 19 March at 9pm on Channel 4. Add A Woman of Substance to your watchlist on the <a id="OWA8b702c45-bee9-94e4-f018-57518e78041b" title="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" href="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-outlook-id="449c28d9-909e-4aab-b6b8-153454f55d5e" data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0">Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Invincible has neglected a key character - now season 4 needs to do him justice
What exactly has happened to William Clockwell?
Being a superhero is never easy, but Mark Grayson is having an especially hard time of it lately. Invincible season 4 starts on a downer following the messed up place we left Mark in season 3. Following his battle to the death with Conquest, not to mention all the casualties that happened along the way, Invincible is now completely disillusioned with life as a superhero. And what's worse is that he's starting to see killing as a potential option if it will stop villains from doing more harm. Never mind all the horrors that came with his girlfriend (briefly) dying and everything that went on with his father beforehand. In short, Mark needs a friend. And not just another superhero on the Guardians team, or even his girlfriend, but an actual friend who knows Mark inside out, someone who's been there with him since the start. You know, someone who can be entirely objective about the superhero stuff. If only someone like that was available… Oh wait, there actually is someone who perfectly fits that bill. Anyone else remember William Clockwell? Before Prime Video's adaptation of Invincible began, creator Robert Kirkman promised that “William is an essential part of the Invincible story” (via Metro Weekly). And at first, it seemed like that was definitely going to be the case. In the very first episode, William's sexuality was immediately established without it becoming a topic of discussion. There was no turmoil or big coming out scene, which stands in stark contrast to William's introduction in the comics, two decades prior. The original William doesn't come out to Mark until #80, published back in 2011. Before that, there were a few scenes where Mark and even Atom Eve described things as "so gay" in the derogatory sense that was (unfortunately) popular to say back then. By skipping over all that, the TV series also sidestepped the awkward homophobia, updating this story for modern times. The problem, however, is that William still ends up falling into the gay best friend trope, always hyping Mark up with very little agency of his own. In an early interview with Digital Spy, William voice actor Andrew Rannells star suggested that "William's not a typical 'this is the gay friend of the lead character'." "They did a really fantastic job of making sure that he's not just a side character," Rannells added, yet William's actual trajectory in the first season tells a very different story. Across the first five episodes, Mark's best friend barely even registered as a character. Instead, the writers were far more focused on our hero's romantic feelings for Amber. And when Invincible did need advice, he turned to Atomic Eve, not William, because she knew what he was going through as a fledgling superhero. The sixth episode of season 1 briefly attempted to re-establish William as an important character when he became the star of his own storyline. Watching William visit his boyfriend Rick at university, it was refreshing to see him enjoy a relationship completely separate from the friendship he shares with Mark. However, things took an unfortunate turn when William's boyfriend was transformed into a monster and beaten up pretty bad by the end. View Green Video on the source website After being sidelined for so long, William was finally given a proper love interest of his own, only for them to suddenly face trauma and violence in their first (and only) spotlight episode together. There's not enough space here to list all of the ways queer couples have previously been "punished" like this and defined by tragedy across TV and film. Things haven't exactly improved since then either as William started fading into the background even more after that. By the time season 3 came around, he only appeared in half the episodes and did very little of note. Now season 4 is upon us and William isn't included at all in the first three episodes that dropped on launch day. And as far as I can recall, there's no mention of him so far either. So where did William go, exactly? We don't know, because the writers couldn't even be bothered to explain his absence. And you thought Mark had it bad this season. Add Radio Times as a Preferred Source on Google Keep up to date on what’s worth watching with your favourite entertainment news from Radio Times – see more of our exclusive news and interviews featured prominently in Top Stories when using Google. I appreciate that there are a lot of characters to juggle in this world, especially when you introduce new alien races and multiple side quests. But William isn't supposed to be just another character. He's Mark's best friend who started out in what looked like it was going to be a key role throughout the series. The optics of this aren't great either, especially when you consider that William is the only queer character of note here. Without him, there are no queer people at all in Invincible. During that aforementioned interview with Metro Weekly, Kirkman suggested: "There are a lot of different stories that come from [William's] sexuality that will be worked into the series." Let's hope the rest of season 4 actually lives up to that promise at last or Invincible risks falling into the same clichés that the comic did 20+ years ago. Except this time round, it's 2026, and there's really no excuse for history to repeat itself. Invincible season 4 is available to stream on Prime Video. Check out more of our Sci-fi coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
So, what should we expect from Line of Duty season 7 now? I have some questions
AC-12 are back in business – but after that finale, what twists can Jed Mercurio possibly pull off next?
Anticipation around the forthcoming seventh season of Line of Duty received another jolt this week with the identity of new cast members joining resident trio Ted Hastings, Steve Arnott and Kate Fleming. The BBC has announced that the new run will see the now legendary AC-12 internal anti-corruption police unit disbanded and rebranded the Inspectorate of Police Standards. Amidst the change, Arnott (Martin Compston), Fleming (Vicky McClure) and Hastings (Adrian Dunbar) are assigned a fresh, unprecedentedly sensitive case. Tom Weston-Jones (Warrior, Sanditon) plays Detective Inspector Dominic Gough, a heralded officer who stands accused of abusing his position to act as a sexual predator. The biggest new name on the bill is Robert Carlyle, who will appear as one of Gough’s reports, Detective Constable Shaun Massie, a Specialist Rifle Officer (SRO) and veteran marksman, operating with Tactical Operations Unit 7 (TO-7) to take down Organised Crime Groups. There are also some returning characters, including Mark Bonnar and Owen Teale as the previously shamed police officers Mike Dryden and Philip Osborne – their reappearance hints at the opening of a cold case. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/03/559336-41cd908.jpg" width="2501" height="1667" alt="Martin Compston, Robert Carlyle, Vicky McClure and Adrian Dunbar for Line of Duty. They have their arms round each other, are stood in front of a black curtain and are smiling at the camera." title="Martin Compston, Robert Carlyle, Vicky McClure and Adrian Dunbar for Line of Duty" /> But will Jed Mercurio be able to juggle keeping the storyline fresh while satisfying those fans left unimpressed by the season 6 finale unveiling of ‘H’? No TV writer has been able to keep us on the edge of our seats in the way Mercurio managed through six seasons of a show that began life as a word-of-mouth sizzler on BBC Two, made household names of its leading trio and a selling point of Mercurio’s readiness to despatch ruthlessly other, bigger guest stars. It’s a rare universe where being Stephen Graham or Daniel Mays isn’t enough to keep you in the credits. Keeley Hawes’s career was transformed with her glow-down as Lindsay Denton, and we all became as fluent in Dunbar’s Irish lyricism – “now we’re sucking diesel” – as in deliberately dense police jargon – “for the tape, absence of evidence is not evidence of absence”. Read more: Line of Duty season 7 tipped to reopen H mystery after controversial twist reveal Line of Duty's Martin Compston hints season 7 will answer unresolved questions Line of Duty finally crashed out in 2021, with the identity of arch-villain ‘H’ revealed in a finale that saw one of those national grid-measured moments of shared TV experience, like the old days. But was it a whimper or a bang? Many viewers groaned that ‘H’ turned out not to be some Bond super-nemesis operating from his lair, nor even Hastings himself, even if the nation couldn’t have coped with that on top of lockdown. Instead, the ultimate antagonist turned out to be ruthless dullard DSU Ian Buckells – the totem of Mercurio’s message that ineptitude allows corruption to triumph while evil sleeps. I found myself in a minority of one in being satisfied with this nuanced pay-off, while everyone else declared themselves let down, and demanded a recount. Add Radio Times as a Preferred Source on Google Keep up to date on what’s worth watching with your favourite entertainment news from Radio Times – see more of our exclusive news and interviews featured prominently in Top Stories when using Google. Six years later, and the people have had their way. Contrary to all writers’ rules of leaving them wanting more, Mercurio has been persuaded to break the glass for some emergency inspiration and give his audience what it demands. I have questions. For a start, exactly how are they going to deal with the previous resolution of H’s uncovering? Will Steve Arnott wake up and find the whole of series 6 was a Bobby-Ewing showery moment? Or is there a tiny little Easter egg of an idea that Jed had buried away in series 4 or 5 for just such moments? Even if he has, having previously stuck to his principles in opting for a subtle, provocative and semi-realistic denouement instead of a High Noon shoot-out, how will he ride those two horses this time around to once again satisfy his vision while giving us braying masses what we want? The only thing we know for sure is that, as he’s done so masterfully in the past, Mercurio will keep us guessing to the end. View Green Video on the source website Line of Duty seasons 1-6 are available to stream on BBC iPlayer. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere made one big mistake – here's how it could have been fixed
Theroux's study is too superficial for such an urgent issue.
The rapid rise of internet culture has fundamentally changed every facet of modern life, from how we communicate and how we entertain ourselves to how we learn and work together. Whether this sea change in how we live is for the better or worse is probably best left up to a documentary 20 years from now that will reflect on such a period of upheaval, in which the attention economy has taken over. And attention is seemingly the only thing that the nauseating streamers featured in Louis Theroux’s latest documentary, Inside the Manosphere, care about, as they so willingly race to the depths of morality with all the haste of a pig digging for truffles. They are known as figureheads of the 'Manosphere', an online community that promotes ideas of 'traditional' masculinity, where men adopt a more dominant role in a relationship while women's rights are marginalised. In tandem comes ignorant attitudes that breed sexism, racism and homophobia, spouted for clippable soundbites to shock and attract attention from viewers across the world. Yet despite their hate-filled and often nonsensical ramblings, their largely young and impressionable audience absorbs their grifting as fact, forming a generation of adolescents who are being moulded to their likeness. It’s an urgent and insidious issue which isn’t given the rigorous excavation it deserves by Theroux's cursory exploration that needed to be double, or even triple the length. Admitting that the landscape is a "wild frontier of streamers whose behaviour is reshaping the culture", Theroux does little to truly understand its horizons, admittedly seeming somewhat speechless as to the sheer support such tedious figures seem to attract as he tails them through the streets of Dubai and beyond. Rarely has the celebrated documentarian, who once thrived in his own discomfort, felt so out of place. Almost vibrating with insecurity, the fragile subjects of Inside the Manosphere provide several avenues for Theroux to explore, but he doesn’t really investigate any with true conviction. As ever, the documentarian merely stands beside them, stares awkwardly in their direction and asks semi-probing questions. For such an urgent topic, it simply doesn’t feel adequate. Aside from a brief examination, it is left undecided whether the streamers in question truly believe in the bile squirting out their mouths. The documentary, too, seems to get bored of its own half-hearted investigation into the reality of Manosphere crypto schemes. And, worst of all, the most crucial question is all but entirely dismissed – what are the consequences of such extreme misogyny and antagonism for young men and women beyond the screen? Only last year the latter of such questions was thoroughly explored in Netflix’s Adolescence, a drama so culturally potent that its creators were invited to parliament alongside relevant charities "to discuss the issues raised in the series". Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer even gave his two cents, stating: "Only by listening and learning from the experiences of young people and charities can we tackle the issues this groundbreaking show raises." Starmer's words are accurate too, with Theroux's superficial stroll through the Manosphere being unfit for purpose as it bypasses the very victims of such a culture. Consequently, he merely seems to wobble the pedestal of these streamers. View Green Video on the source website While a feature-length documentary is ostentatious, it's an insufficient length to properly burrow into the roots of such a pervasive topic; instead, a three-part exploration would have been more fitting. While not entirely perfect, the current 90-minute film could have been merely the first part, with two subsequent episodes tackling the young men who streamers aim their content at, and the women and other victims who have experienced the tail-end of such misogyny and venom. Not only would this approach give more weight to a worthy topic, but it would have acted as a more commanding way to deconstruct and dismantle the ideologies of such streamers who so defiantly believe in their own supremacy. Inside the Manosphere leaves us stranded as to possible antidotes to this cultural poison, offering little hope in reforming those who have been magnetised to such streamers and finding a way out of the quagmire. It’s not as if this subject matter is too 'big' for Theroux, but the documentary certainly lacks the ambition to lock horns with the Manosphere and upheave its roots. Where have we failed young men so that they are so willing to follow such figures? How have we let social media sites platform and promote them? How can we fight misinformation and adequately educate young people about marginalised communities? How can we properly support young women and girls who are faced with the results of such misogyny on a regular basis? You’ll find no answers to such vital questions here. Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere is available to watch now on Netflix. Check out more of our Documentaries coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Is nothing worth watching without a sprinkling of celebrity stardust?
Not all celebs are born the same, but you would never know it from the schedules.
Two quick stories: once, in a London hotel, a film publicist came to find me. Bursting with the pride of a tigress with a newborn cub, she shouted down the corridor: "I've got you four minutes with Orlando!" The other took place in a Soho café, when two TV agents pressed me to consider championing their beloved clients' move from magic to cookery. I nearly choked on my macaroon. This was proper "youth hostelling with Chris Eubank" territory, as proffered by Alan Partridge. It turned out, in the world of televisual evolution, monkey tennis is very real. I mention these two incidents to shed some light on twin beliefs that threaten to consume our entire entertainment ecosystem: the first, that any time spent in the company of a famous face, on screen or off, is superior to that spent with what Liz Hurley helpfully calls "civilians"; the second, that celebrities will do anything, from boiling an egg to being taken hostage, if it means staying under the warm spotlight of another TV commission. The result? As pointed out in Ms Shearer's recent letter to RT’s Feedback (thank you!), a schedule that includes Jules and Greg’s Wild Swim, Bear Grylls – Wild Reckoning, Dickinson’s Real Deal, Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares, Hippo Watch with Steve Backshall… all of them on TV on a single random Friday. This week sees the arrival of Celebrity Sabotage, in which a gaggle of familiar faces set out to hoodwink unsuspecting members of the public who think they are taking part in brand-new ITV shows. How did we get here? Add Radio Times as a Preferred Source on Google Keep up to date on what’s worth watching with your favourite entertainment news from Radio Times – see more of our exclusive news and interviews featured prominently in Top Stories when using Google. In 1997, the BBC One series Driving School simply followed learner drivers around Bristol and South Wales. What they hadn’t planned for was one Maureen Rees. By the time the cleaner from Cardiff had passed her test at the seventh attempt, 12 million people had tuned in. An appearance on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and the release of her version of Madness’s Driving in My Car followed. An unlikely sensation had become a star. Two decades later, Paul Whitehouse invited his real-life pal Bob Mortimer to go fishing. So serene was their day out, Whitehouse invited the cameras to watch "two old blokes doing very little". Eight series later, Mortimer and Whitehouse: Gone Fishing enjoys the highest score of any show on the BBC’s audience appreciation index. Pretty much every factual entertainment show in today’s schedule is an attempt to emulate the success of one of these two models, either a) normal people becoming celebrities, or b) celebrities doing the most normal of things. Clive Myrie revealed that the BBC basically asked him, "What would you like to do?" Sensibly, he opted for a drive through Tuscany and a lesson in making pasta. Entertaining enough, but it does seem to be a case of tail wagging dog, person before idea, Fiat 500 before horse. What’s the problem? Diminishing returns in a culture built on the belief that nothing’s worth watching without a sprinkling of celebrity stardust – because I’m not sure TV bosses have thought it through. They can fish in a familiar pool, leading to cries of "Not her again!", or they can delve into the industrial pipeline of "talent" – Strictly dancers, Love Island alumni – in the hope that one of these becomes the new Bob Monkhouse, or at least a This Morning presenter. Not all celebs are born the same, but you would never know it from the schedules. Did I really see Michael Ball presenting The One Show the day after he guested on it? Maybe it was a dream. News just in: a new series coming soon to 5, Sam and Ade Go Birding. Samuel West and Adrian Edmondson, two familiar, popular people, doing a thing. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll go in with an open mind – maybe for a full four minutes. Read more: Jeremy Vine reveals why his game show is a new joy amid the 'death' of the quiz in the modern age The Claudia Winkleman Show review: Was there any doubt we'd be in good hands? The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Celebrity Sabotage begins at 8pm on Saturday 21 March on ITV1 and ITVX. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Remembering Len Deighton: The Ipcress File author reveals how he wrote a best-seller that imagines what would happen if Hitler won World War II
In this piece from the RT Archives, novelist Len Deighton opens up about writing SS-GB.
Today, it was announced that British author Len Deighton has sadly passed away at the age of 97. Deighton was best known for his spy novels including The Ipcress File (1962), which was turned into a Bafta-winning film starring Michael Caine, before being remade as an ITV series in 2022 in which Peaky Blinders’ Joe Cole played the leading role. In this piece from the Radio Times archive, Deighton explains the writing process behind his 1987 novel SS-GB, which imagines a Nazi-occupied Britain. The novel was given the TV treatment by the BBC in 2017 in an adaptation starring Sam Riley and Kate Bosworth. Sometimes the trigger for a book comes all at once. That’s how it was for SS-GB. “No one knows what would have happened after 1940 if we had lost the war,” said my editor. It was about ten o’clock at night and we were sitting drinking (nothing stronger than coffee), talking about the research I’d carried out for my history books Fighter and Blitzkrieg. “To some extent, we do know,” I said. “The German archives reveal the plans for the occupation and the personnel that would have made up the German occupying force. It makes fascinating reading.” “Would it make a book?” asked the other man at our table, my close friend Ray Hawkey. “Perhaps. But what kind of book?” “An ‘alternative world’ story,” said Ray. Ray had been a classmate at the Royal College of Art and had contributed a great deal to the success of my books. Not only did he design the dust jackets (his Ipcress File cover was a game-changer) but all manner of other sensational promotional accessories. For SS-GB he would produce booklets of British Hitler-head postage stamps that have become much sought-after. But I was not immediately attracted to the idea of an “alternative world” story. I had avoided anything in the nature of science fiction or fantasy and, as always, my next three years of writing were already roughly planned. It was the mid 1970s and I’d become a writer almost by accident. For much of my working life I was an illustrator. Yet, despite my lifelong concern with pictures, and an inclination to judge everything for colour and shape, books consist of 100 per cent words. Words are a writer’s only currency and it is his task to confide his story to the reader; confide as to a trusted and intimate friend. No wonder then that I spend so long in preparation and research, and then work slowly and nervously preparing a story-structure. I worry about each page; deleting paragraphs and improving words, with a gigantic, well-thumbed dictionary at my side. For books, as with cooking, building and probably with many other things in life, it’s the long and careful preparation that is decisive. Initial ideas for books arrive in fits and starts. An environment and the characters usually provide the beginning. Those decisions steer me to the mood and writing style. Is it to be written in the first person or third person? Is it historical or up to date? Is there to be an element of comedy? Ray’s suggestion did not fade but there was one big obstacle. Who would be the central figure – the hero – of my grim tale? A German? We had lived in Germany and I knew many Germans of widely differing political pasts. I’ve always been a risk-taker (you can ask my wife about that) and writers must take risks if they’re to progress and improve. But I baulked at creating a German central figure. It had to be someone moving in the upper circles of the German administration in order to tell the story in the way I wanted. But I didn’t relish attempting to create a sympathetic English collaborator; a Quisling! My man couldn’t be a war hero, they would all be dead, in hospital or in PoW camps. He couldn’t be a fugitive; I needed to describe England, and the occupation, without such constraints. I almost abandoned the project at that stage but I was enjoying lunch at a fish and chip shop in Marylebone with the writer Ted Allbeury – telling him all my troubles – when a solution jumped up and waved a red flag. Ted, before starting his career as a novelist, was a senior Army intelligence officer. He was the only English agent parachuted into wartime Germany. Stationed in postwar Germany, he became the man the local Germans persisted in calling the head of the English Gestapo (“...eventually I stopped correcting them,” said Ted). Exactly how the final idea for SS-GB emerged I cannot remember, but by the time we reached the steamed golden pudding my central figure was beginning to look like a London copper. Later that night I fleshed out this “hero”. Douglas Archer would be a celebrated Scotland Yard detective of the “murder squad”. As such he’d sit at the heart of the German authority but not be a contributor to the repressive Nazi regime. This didn’t mean that I could start writing. The research wouldn’t be easy. The London of the 1970s had altered a great deal since 1941. Architecture, communications, policing and politics had changed fundamentally. If I was to write with the authenticity that my story demanded, I would have to tread warily through a minefield of anachronisms. But I was old enough to remember London in 1941 vividly. So I decided that most of the scenes described in the book would be places I remembered; my home, my school, my neighbours and my local shops. And I remembered the bombed buildings, the blacked-out streets, the tin baths, the food rationing, the shortage of fuel and thus of hot water. And I remembered the brave Londoners; their concealed anxieties, studied composure and their prevailing sense of humour. By the 1970s, the old Scotland Yard building – where my Archer would have his office – had been converted into offices for senior politicians and civil servants. It was out of bounds to everyone else. It loomed as an insurmountable obstacle. It was my old friend Freddy Warren, from the Whip’s Office, who waved a magic Westminster wand. He not only arranged for me to wander through this “Parliamentary building” at will, but also found a retired policeman to guide me on my wanderings, providing a commentary about “the good old days”. The Metropolitan Police gave me unlimited access to their archives and museum. For day after day, I studied photos of 1940s detectives in mandatory suits and ties, plus details of real wartime crimes. This privileged kindness contributed greatly to my knowledge and my book. I anticipated resistance to my research trips. I worried that people would refuse to help a writer describe a German victory and a subservient Britain. I needn’t have; I encountered no opposition nor criticism. Some were amused, some were perplexed. Some expressed hatred of the Germans and relief at our ultimate victory. But everyone I spoke with trusted my judgement in describing these fictional, but nonetheless controversial, events. And this was also the case when I spoke with German veterans, including army generals and some senior SS officers. There were many more decisions to be made before I started. As an overall plot, I decided that a detective story format would inflict a necessary discipline on the story. A murder committed on page one would be solved at the very end. I studied the German plans for the occupation. I didn’t stick rigidly to these, but the Germans might not have stuck to them either. I drew a wall-chart of the German chain of command; army, SS, British puppet government and civil police. I looked at newsreel film of postwar Germany and the other occupied countries. The tone-colour of the story was to be grey, like the SS uniforms. The season must be winter; the mood bleak and cold. So it was fitting that I started writing it in an old mountainside house in Tuscany. Never mind the tourism posters, that winter in Italy was icy cold. My wife and two small sons were there to watch my hands swell and grow purple as I bashed the keys of a locally purchased manual typewriter. (I had searched high and low in Barga, the nearest town, to buy an electric typewriter but without result.) Another problem emerged; this time it really was insurmountable. As I neared the end of that first draft I found that the first-person format could not be sustained. A man, even my detective Douglas Archer, couldn’t be in London and on a ship at sea at the same time. I dumped that draft, bought another ream of paper and started afresh. There are moments in a writer’s life when other ways of earning a living become remarkably attractive. Check out more of our Books coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Is drama Power: The Downfall of Huw Edwards really 'too soon'? I argue it's a stark study of an imbalance of power
Martin Clunes stars as the disgraced newsreader in an upcoming production from 5.
Whenever television dramatises a recent scandal, the same response quickly surfaces: it’s “too soon”. But the phrase can sometimes feel like a polite way of saying we’d rather not confront our discomfort just yet. After all, awkward truths become far easier to process once they’ve been safely consigned to the past. Given the personality at the heart of it, Power: the Downfall of Huw Edwards (airing on 24 March on 5) is bound to be the latest drama to find itself at the centre of this debate. Dramatising the fall of the once-trusted newsreader was always likely to provoke such a reaction. For years, Edwards appeared as solid and familiar as the desk he sat behind. Yet waiting doesn’t necessarily make such stories more respectful. Time alone can’t solve the ethical question that defines this case. If anything, facing it now may help keep our gaze on the wrongdoing rather than allowing it to fade from view. Arguably, what matters more is tone rather than timing. The risk with a project such as this is that it exploits a traumatic situation for entertainment or humanises its central figure to the point where it feels like mitigation. Thankfully, the focus here is less on any remorse Edwards may have felt after his disgrace and more on the controlling grip the presenter – played with quiet menace by Martin Clunes – exerted over the 17-year-old boy he groomed. The result is a stark study in the imbalance of power, with vulnerable youngster Ryan (Osian Morgan) depicted as someone caught in the psychological leverage Edwards wielded as a person of influence. At times, the drama captures that manipulation in small but palpably distressing detail: in private exchanges, Edwards repeatedly addresses the teenager as “baby”, a tone grotesquely out of step with the sober image he projected each night to viewers. In other moments, he berates and bullies his prey, steadily eroding Ryan’s self-worth and distancing him from his mother, Carys (Sian Reese-Williams), who fears she is losing her son. The story also explores the deeper impropriety beyond those first headlines. Early press reports focused on Edwards’s relationship with a then-unnamed teenager, but investigators later unearthed worrying online conversations with another man between late 2020 and mid-2021. Those messages were found to include illegal images of children, some classified as being in the most serious categories. The discovery prompted a police investigation into Edwards’s internet activity, which eventually saw him admit offences relating to indecent images of minors. The portrayal of these events is heightened by Clunes’s casting. For decades, the actor has been widely associated with warm roles, most notably the gruff but lovable GP in Doc Martin. That familiarity functions almost as a comfort blanket: audiences are instinctively reassured by his presence. Here, though, as Edwards’s predatory behaviour becomes more overt, the effect is deliberately upsetting – as though the blanket is fraying and unravelling before our eyes. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/01/PowerThe-Downfall-of-Huw-Edwards-wtannouncement-imageEpisodicMT00010v2MidresSTRICT-EMBARGO-WEDNESDAY-7TH-JANUARY8PM-aee1ad3.jpg" width="4500" height="2967" alt="Martin Clunes as Huw Edwards in Power: The Downfall of Huw Edwards, sat at a newsdesk, wearing a suit." title="POWER: THE DOWNFALL OF HUW EDWARDS (w/t) - STRICT EMBARGO - WED" /> Edwards himself, of course, was once the embodiment of trust, something we’re reminded of in a recreation of his announcement of the death of Queen Elizabeth II in September 2022. Seeing a similarly recognisable figure in the form of Clunes deliver that moment only sharpens the point about how quickly such faith can shatter. It’s a theme that’s returned to when, in a striking dramatic device, Edwards is shown once again seated behind the news desk - only this time, he’s reading a report about his own conviction. It’s a narrative flight of fancy but an effective one: a bracing reminder of the drama’s chief preoccupation with the gulf that can exist between public persona and private reality. Power: The Downfall of Huw Edwards will air on Tuesday 24 March at 9pm on 5. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Oscar predictions 2027: 25 films which could compete for best picture next year
We might be a year away, but we can already take a good stab at predicting some of the films which might well feature at the next Oscars.
After what sometimes felt like an endless awards season, last night's Academy Awards ceremony in LA marked the end of this year's cycle, with Paul Thomas Anderson's One Battle After Another eventually named as the deserving best picture winner. The film saw off competition from the likes of Ryan Coogler's Sinners to win the main prize, with Anderson also scooping the honours for best director and best adapted screenplay. It was the first time the filmmaker had won Oscar gold despite coming close on numerous previous occasions, but few would have been too surprised if they'd been told this time last year that he would finally get his day in the sun. With that in mind, we're taking an early stab at suggesting who might be in the running this time next year. We've used our expert insight to round up a list of some of the films that might well be in contention when the time comes to hand out golden statuettes in 2027. It should obviously be taken into account that – with the exception of one or two films – most of the titles listed below have not yet been screened, and so we're relying entirely on the names attached and plot synopses to indicate which films might be in the running. It's likely that after some of these premiere they could drop off our predictions list entirely, and it's equally probable that several films will come out of nowhere to emerge as major contenders in the coming months – as was the case this year. But for the time being, read on for a list of films that could be up for best picture in 2027. If nothing else, it certainly points to another exciting year for new releases... 1. The Odyssey View Green Video on the source website It's almost impossible to imagine a world in which Christopher Nolan's follow-up to his Oscar-sweeping 2023 biographical epic Oppenheimer doesn't land a glut of nominations. While winning two best pictures in a row may prove a little too much, the combination of on-screen and off-screen talent, source material and pre-release buzz mean that something would have to go drastically wrong for the film to not at least get a space in the best picture line-up. We can't wait to see just how Nolan adapts Homer's epic. 2. Disclosure Day When Steven Spielberg releases a new film, there's always a fairly good chance it will land in the best picture line-up – and his two most recent efforts (West Side Story and The Fabelmans) both made the cut this decade. He's returning to the familiar world of sci-fi – and specifically UFOs – for his hotly-anticipated summer release, and with an A-list cast including Josh O'Connor, Emily Blunt, Colin Forth and Colman Domingo, we reckon there's a fairly good chance the legendary director is back in the running again. 3. Dune: Part Three The first two films in Denis Villeneuve's masterful sci-fi trilogy have both been best picture nominated, and we see no good reason why that won't be the case again this time around, as he continues the saga with a film inspired by Frank Herbert's sequel novel Dune Messiah. Plus, it wouldn't really be an Oscars ceremony these days without a film starring Timothée Chalamet featuring in the best picture line-up – even if the Marty Supreme star is yet to get his hands on one of those coveted golden statuettes for himself. 4. Project Hail Mary Another sci-fi film on the list, and this one we have the added benefit of having already seen. Adapted from Andy Weir's novel of the same name and helmed by directing duo Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, this likeable adventure stars Ryan Gosling in the title role and has been met by rave reviews from critics ahead of its imminent release in cinemas. The last film adapted from a sci-fi book by Weir was The Martian, which found itself nominated for best picture – and this looks a fairly safe bet to repeat that feat. We also know that the Academy loves to nominate blockbusters at the moment, so the crowd-pleasing nature of this one – coupled with the aforementioned critical acclaim – bodes well. 5. Josephine It's fairly common for a film that premieres at the Sundance Film Festival to make its way onto the best picture shortlist, with Train Dreams having achieved exactly that this year. This sophomore film from writer/director Beth de Araújo was the most positively reviewed film of this year's slate at the festival, and with Channing Tatum and Gemma Chan in key roles, may have enough star power to attract attention from voters despite its status as a fairly small independent production. The drama follows an eight-year-old who witnesses a brutal assault and begins to experience fear and paranoia. 6. The Social Reckoning The Social Network losing out to The King's Speech for best picture at the 2011 Oscars is considered by some to be one of the worst snubs in recent times, so it will be interesting to see if this follow-up – which is based on the events surrounding the 2021 Facebook leak by whistleblower Frances Haugen – can also attract similar acclaim. Aaron Sorkin is once again on scripting duties and also replaces David Fincher in the director's chair, while Jeremy Strong takes over from Jesse Eisenberg as Mark Zuckerberg. Other new additions to the cast include 2025 Oscar winner Mikey Madison, 2026 Oscar nominee Wunmi Mosaku and The Bear star Jeremy Allen White. 7. The Adventures of Cliff Booth One of the reasons Fincher isn't returning behind the camera for The Social Reckoning is because he is instead helming this follow-up to another previously Oscar-nominated film: Quentin Tarantino's Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood. Brad Pitt – who won an Oscar for his role in the original – is back as Cliff Booth for another Tarantino-penned period drama, reportedly set eight years later in 1977. Elizabeth Debicki is the most high-profile new addition to the cast, but little about the exact plot is known. 8. Narnia: The Magician’s Nephew All three of Greta Gerwig's previous films as a solo director – Lady Bird, Little Women and Barbie – have been nominated for best picture, so on the face of it she seems a decent bet to continue that streak with this major Netflix-backed production. The source material – the sixth published novel in CS Lewis's Narnia series – might not seem like an obvious fit for the Oscars, but the same could undoubtedly have been said about Barbie, and we all know what happened there. Never rule Gerwig out. 9. Digger View Green Video on the source website Around a decade ago, Alejandro González Iñárritu was enjoying a superb streak at the Oscars, with back-to-back best director gongs for Birdman and The Revenant – although his only film released since then was 2022's Bardo, which was nowhere to be seen at the Oscars that year. His next film could very well signal a return to Oscar glory, however, especially given it stars Tom Cruise in the lead role, the first film in what the megastar reportedly envisions as his return to prestige filmmaking having mainly involved himself with action franchises in recent years. The enigmatic plot synopsis reads simply: "The most powerful man in the world embarks on a frantic mission to prove that he's humanity's saviour." 10. Ink Danny Boyle is another filmmaker with plenty of Oscars pedigree, and this latest drama could well see him back in the mix for the first time in some years. Based on James Graham's acclaimed stage play of the same name, it stars Jack O'Connell as former editor of The Sun Larry Lamb and Guy Pearce as notorious media mogul Rupert Murdoch, with the plot following the rise of the latter's empire. On paper, those all look like good ingredients for Oscars success. 11. Wild Horse Nine Yet another filmmaker who is no stranger to the Oscars, Martin McDonagh will be looking to make it three best picture nominations in a row following the successes of his last two films Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri and The Banshees of Inisherin. His latest effort is a Chile-set period drama starring John Malkovich, Sam Rockwell and Steve Buscemi and will follow a pair of CIA agents as they face a trust-testing mission from Santiago to Easter Island during 1973. 12. The Entertainment System Is Down Triangle of Sadness marked the first time Swedish director Ruben Östlund had seen one of his films nominated for best picture, so it will be interesting to see if his next film can follow that in securing a nomination. Another star-studded satire, it features Keanu Reeves and Kirsten Dunst and follows the passengers of a lengthy flight when they are forced to contend with their boredom after the plane's entertainment system is broken. 13. Michael Music biopics of major stars can be hit or miss when it comes to getting nominations at the Oscars, but there is plenty of recent precedent – and given that Jackson remains one of the biggest stars to ever (moon)walk the planet, we definitely can't rule out this effort from Antoine Fuqua making the cut. However, given the well-documented controversy surrounding Jackson, it remains to be seen exactly how this film will be received – so this is far from a sure thing at this juncture. 14. Jack of Spades Josh O'Connor's career has been going from strength to strength in recent years, and the latest major filmmaker he's teaming up with is Joel Coen – who is, of course, one half of legendary directing duo the Coen brothers. A gothic mystery set in Scotland, it sounds like an intriguing proposition and so if reviews are good there's definitely a possibility it could be the first solo Coen effort to land a best picture nod. 15. Parallel Tales If you're a fan of French cinema, the idea of a film starring Isabelle Huppert, Virginie Efira, Catherine Deneuve and Vincent Cassel will probably have already set your anticipation levels extremely high. The combination of an acclaimed director (Iranian Asghar Farhadi), an evocative subject matter (the 2015 Paris terrorist attacks) and the fact that the Academy has been embracing international cinema more than ever in recent years, suggest this could have a very good chance of a best picture slot. 16. Artificial It's been close to a decade since Luca Guadagnino's Call Me by Your Name scored several nominations including a best picture nod, and although his five subsequent efforts haven't made the cut, he's a filmmaker who's remained very much in the zeitgeist. If this hot-topic biographical drama starring Andrew Garfield as OpenAI CEO Sam Altman performs well critically, we could very well see him return to the line-up – watch this space. 17. Paper Tiger Despite attracting consistent critical acclaim for films including We Own the Night, The Immigrant and Armageddon Time, James Gray appears to never have especially registered with Academy voters. But this crime thriller starring Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson and Miles Teller – which follows two brothers who get entangled in a dangerous Russian mafia scheme – has all the makings of another great film from the auteur. Could he finally get some overdue Oscar recognition? 18. Fjord Given the Oscars have been increasingly looking further afield to the world of international cinema in recent times, it's worth looking at some of the high-profile European films due for release this year – and this family drama from Romanian director Cristian Mungiu looks very exciting indeed. With the cast led by not one but two recent Oscar nominees in Renate Reinsve and Sebastian Stan, there's an awful lot of talent involved, so it's definitely one to keep an eye on. 19. 1949 Polish director Paweł Pawlikowski hasn't directed a film since 2018's Cold War – which saw him Oscar-nominated for best director after his previous film Ida had taken the best international feature award five years earlier. Given the Academy's aforementioned embrace of international cinema since, this biographical period drama about exiled German novelist Thomas Mann looks like another decent prediction, especially when we consider that another recent Oscar nominee – Sandra Huller – is part of the cast. 20. Butterfly Jam Russian director Kantemir Balagov turned heads on the arthouse scene with his 2019 film Beanpole, and for his first English-language effort he's assembled an impressive cast that includes Riley Keough, Barry Keoghan and Harry Melling. Not too much has been given away about the plot beyond the fact that it centres on a Circassian circus troupe in New Jersey, but it's another one which could end up attracting awards attention if reviews turn out positive. 21. The Dog Stars The ever-prolific Sir Ridley Scott returns with this star-studded post-apocalyptic thriller following a civilian pilot (Jacob Elordi) and a tough ex-marine (Josh Brolin) who face struggles in the aftermath of a flu virus that nearly wiped out humanity. Margaret Qualley and Guy Pearce also star. Scott has never exactly been shy when it comes to singing his own praises, and the veteran filmmaker has already labelled his latest effort "maybe my best movie". If such a bold statement turns out to have any truth, then surely this film is a shoo-in for a best picture nomination. 22. The Drama As if leads Zendaya and Robert Pattinson weren't reason enough to put this film on our list, the mysterious nature of the plot and the early buzz from those who have seen it at test screenings suggest this film from Dream Scenario director Kristoffer Borgli could really capture the zeitgeist. But will it be good enough for a best picture nod? With release set for next month, it might not be too long before we find out if this one really has a shot. 23. Klara and the Sun Taika Waititi's recent output – including Next Goal Wins and Thor: Love and Thunder – hasn't attracted anywhere near the acclaim of his earlier efforts. But with terrific source material – Kazuo Ishiguro's 2021 novel of the same name – and a stellar cast including Amy Adams and Jenna Ortega, perhaps this could be the one to put him back on track. A lengthy delay between the end of production – which wrapped almost two years ago – and eventual release have set the alarm bells ringing for some pundits, but there remains an outside chance that Waititi could once again find his film back in the best picture line-up more than half a decade on from the success of Jojo Rabbit. 24. Toy Story 5 View Green Video on the source website Pixar is returning to arguably its best-loved property with a fifth film focusing on Woody, Buzz and co – which will see them go head-to-head with a new threat to playtime: a frog-like tablet named Lilypad, voiced by Greta Lee. While it might seem like a long-shot for best picture, it's not without precedent: the tremendous third film in the series made the line-up following its release in 2010. Could a return to form see Pixar back in the main category, as opposed to being consigned to best animated feature consideration as has been the case more recently? 25. The Other Mommy Given how great a night horror had at the 2026 Oscars, it would be silly not to include at least one film from the genre in this list. And although there are a few options to choose from – including the reportedly terrifying upcoming A24 release Undertone – we're opting for this one as something of a wildcard prediction. Starring Oscar-winner Jessica Chastain in the lead role and helmed by British director Rob Savage, it follows a paranormal entity known as Other Mommy who threatens a young girl and starts haunting her home. Let's see how much the Academy has really embraced horror cinema... Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Jeremy Vine reveals why his game show is a new joy amid the 'death' of the quiz in the modern age
Smartphones are killing TV quiz shows – and knowledge itself, writes presenter Jeremy Vine.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. I’d like to tell you about the day I took part in a big charity quiz. The man with the microphone asked the first question: “Which American football player began the practice of taking the knee to protest racial injustice in 2016?” Tricky. I racked my brains. Was it Colin Someone? I threw a beseeching glance across the table. That’s when I saw a younger team member – a smart professional member of Gen Z, and for all I knew an upstanding member of the community – fishing in her handbag. “Right,” she said. “Let’s find out.” And produced her phone. A phone! At a quiz! I was alarmed. Looking up answers to quiz questions is such a no-no it might have resulted in the disqualification of the entire team, not to mention subsequent reputational destruction (I was presenting the long-running quiz show Eggheads at the time). Aghast, I remonstrated. The woman rolled her eyes and reluctantly pushed the phone back into her bag. Then I spotted her neighbour at the table also re-bagging her phone. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a simple case of a single miscreant. This was generational. Luckily for me, I had smuggled one of the Eggheads into the event. The inimitable Kevin Ashman, probably the greatest quizzer in the world at the time, spent a few seconds rubbing his chin before coming up with the answer: Colin Kaepernick. Ah! I know what you’re thinking. What’s the difference between smuggling a phone and an Egghead into a quiz? The answer is that the Egghead is human, and the mobile is machine. The more we lean on smartphones, the dumber we become. Recently, I’ve been thinking about that moment. My father stopped needing to know the layout of London when he bought an A–Z street atlas. For people born after 1990, the idea of knowing something is the same as knowing where to find it. Extend the analogy, and someone with a mobile needs to know nothing at all. For years, TV has given us quizzes – Mastermind, Celebrity Squares and the greatest quiz show of all time, Ask the Family. I’ve been lucky to be part of this history, asking more than 45,000 questions while filming over 1,000 wonderful episodes of Eggheads between 2008 and 2023. But winning teams were rarely young. The classic quiz appears to be rusting like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz. Why would there be any social cachet in knowing stuff when your phone knows everything? Where once we had quiz geniuses, now we have smartphone bores. There are still great TV quizzes, but new formats are thin on the ground. I’m sad. The whole “not a lot of people know that” (cue Michael Caine voice) was such a part of British culture. Perhaps the next step is a TV quiz where you simply test how fast people can google the answers. Or perhaps we should move gratefully to the TV puzzle? For it eliminates one downside of a quiz – embarrassment. On Mastermind in 2008, the then Higher Education Minister David Lammy almost tanked his career when he was asked the surname of the French scientists Marie and Pierre. His reply? “Antoinette.” He also said Henry VIII was succeeded by Henry VII. By contrast, no one gets embarrassed by a failed Wordle. The audience wouldn’t have laughed if Lammy failed to work out what eight-letter word is formed from the letters ZIPGNULZ. 5 has caught this breeze with Celebrity Puzzling, the show I host with team captains Carol Vorderman and Sally Lindsay. We feature brainteasers, tricky puzzles, tests of logic and lateral thinking. While I love a quiz and lament their death in the mobile phone age, I think we’ve found a new joy in something. We embrace shapes, anagrams and word connections, and there is a complete lack of embarrassment when you can’t work out the answer. *(anagram answer is PUZZLING) Jeremy Vine presents Celebrity Puzzling Monday to Friday at 7pm on 5. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Sinners might have missed out on best picture, but make no mistake – the 2026 Oscars were the best yet for horror
A raft of major wins – including for Michael B Jordan and Weapons star Amy Madigan – suggest the genre is finally being treated with the respect it deserves.
Although it undoubtedly enjoyed a great night overall, there will be a few film fans who woke up this morning disappointed that Ryan Coogler's Sinners didn't ultimately take home the top honour at last night's Academy Awards. The critically acclaimed, politically charged vampire flick might have been second favourite in the best picture race for much of this seemingly endless awards season, but talk of a late surge – brought on in part by its win in the best ensemble category at The Actor Awards – had led some to believe it might pull off an impressive upset and pip Paul Thomas Anderson's magnificent One Battle After Another to the hugely coveted gong. Ultimately it wasn't to be: One Battle prevailed, and surely stands as one of the finest best picture winners of recent years. But we shouldn't for one minute let the fact that Sinners missed out on this award dampen what has nonetheless been an exceptionally successful season for the passionately supported movie. View Green Video on the source website Much has been made about the fact that, having been nominated for a record-breaking sixteen Academy Awards – a quite remarkable feat – the film ultimately failed to convert 12 of those into wins. But looking at any of those as "losses" – a word that often does the rounds in Oscars post-mortem discussions – is quite frankly a nonsensical way of looking at things. A film that gets nominated but doesn't win is by no means a loser, and indeed being honoured as one of the best five or ten films in each individual category is a major accomplishment in itself. To be nominated for sixteen of those speaks to the overwhelmingly high esteem in which the film is held, something not undone by the fact that another terrific movie from a beloved director narrowly secured more votes when all is said and done. In the third of his three acceptance speeches of the night, Anderson himself said: "There is no best among them. There is just what the mood might be that day." He went on to reference the infamously stacked 1975 best picture line-up – which consisted of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Barry Lyndon, Dog Day Afternoon, Jaws and Nashville – but it was clear he was suggesting the same applied this time around; it's ultimately rather arbitrary to choose between the nominees, most of which had very solid cases for being the pick of the bunch. But even if we do look exclusively at those that won their categories, there was plenty to celebrate for Sinners last night. The headline was undoubtedly the best actor win for Michael B Jordan, who beat one-time hot favourite Timothée Chalamet to the award and in doing so became only the sixth Black actor to win that prize, following Sidney Poitier, Denzel Washington, Jamie Foxx, Forrest Whitaker and Will Smith. Meanwhile, there was also something of a surprise win in best cinematography, a category which had seen One Battle After Another enlisted as the bookmakers's favourite but which ultimately saw Autumn Durald Arkapaw become the first ever woman to win this award. And then there were the expected, and very much deserved, wins for Ryan Coogler in original screenplay and composer Ludwig Göransson in best original score. All of this is even more impressive when we consider the genre to which Sinners belongs. As has often been pointed out, horror films have rarely been treated with the respect they deserve by the Academy, and The Silence of the Lambs is the only previous best picture winner win that can truly claim to meet the criteria for inclusion in the genre (though some might make the argument for Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water). But in the last decade or so, it's clear old attitudes have begun to shift. Various nods – and a best original screenplay win – for Get Out back in 2018 set the tone, while multiple nominations for Coralie Fargeat's unashamedly excessive body horror The Substance last year proved how far we'd come, even if best makeup and hairstyling was the only one it converted into a win. And whichever way you look at things, last night was a terrific one for horror – the best yet for the genre in 98 editions of this storied awards show. Not only were there the aforementioned victories for Sinners, but there were three craft awards for del Toro's take on one of the most iconic horror tales of all, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, in production design, makeup and hairstyling and costume design. But perhaps the most exhilarating win of all for horror fanatics – and the one that proves once and for all that the genre truly does now have a seat at the table for major awards shows – is Amy Madigan's best supporting actress victory for her gleefully deranged turn in Zach Cregger's Weapons. This wasn't a performance that merely gestured at horror, but a fully committed embodiment of a terrifying witch who became an immediately iconic villain, in a film that completely embraced the trappings of its genre. Of course, for some horror fans this still won't quite be enough; a best picture win for Sinners would have been the icing on the cake, and there were some other great performances – such as Sally Hawkins's chilling role in Bring Her Back – that failed to muster much attention throughout the season despite their obvious merits. But don't let that get in the way of what was a tremendous night; one that added the most compelling evidence yet that horror is finally held in just as high a regard as other, more traditionally prestigious genres. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
How Train Dreams winning the 2026 Oscar for best picture could help spread its most vital message
2026 is a tough time, but Train Dreams is the antidote.
There is a tranquility in Clint Bentley’s best picture nominee that feels entirely at odds with the clangour of modern America. Set in the early years of the 20th century, the meditative drama tells the tale of a railroad labourer grappling with life’s most existential questions, considering his lowly standing in a world that swells around him. An introspective ballad to the wonder of life’s ephemerality, Train Dreams is the ideal antidote to the desolation of late-stage capitalism. A stirring celebration of what it means to be alive while sharing similarities with the "great frontier" of classic western cinema, this should be the kind of film that the Academy laps up like a savoury hors d'oeuvre. But, this is not a film made for lovers of mythical gunslingers or elaborate heists in windswept dustbowls — this is a different kind of romance — an impassioned ode to God’s lonely souls, trying to find the breadth to flourish in the face of affliction. Based on Denis Johnson’s novella of the same name, Bentley’s film is a similar miniature epic that tails Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton), a man who earns his way felling forests and constructing a grand railroad in its place. A pensive introvert, Grainier finds more kinship in the soaring pine trees than in his ragtag co-workers, though glimmers of companionship are offered in the form of like-minded labourers such as William H. Macy’s Arn. His tumultuous, industrious life in the forest contrasts nicely with the haven he has created back home, where his wife Gladys (Felicity Jones) and young daughter thrive. Existing in an almost ethereal paradise that is submerged in the same sun-soaked cinematography of a Terrence Malick landscape, the home effortlessly cohabits with the surrounding environment and the family abide by the self-same chaotic forces of nature. Without warning, their lives are upended by tragedy and their paradise crumbles, leaving Grainier to find meaning in the ash that’s left behind. It’s a devastating tale that unfolds with gorgeous meditation, looking into how one navigates profound ruin with the resilience necessary to rebuild again from the bottom-up. Wondrous and inspiring, it’s an ode to the true meaning of the resolute American Dream. Such is why Train Dreams resonates so deeply in the midst of contemporary times and would make an apt choice for the best picture statuette, offering a calm reverie of true spiritual prosperity that acts in opposition to the idea of contemporary capitalist glory. Neither money, nor material wealth, is championed in this tale. Instead, the beauty of the wild, and humanity’s innate and inextricable attachment to it is the focus. View Green Video on the source website This was clearly something the lead actor ruminated about, with Edgerton explaining to Radio Times that he was often struck by how often he needed to remind himself "how disconnected I can be from the planet that I live on". "Human beings, we use the planet," he added, "we really use it, and we chew it up, rather than, as indigenous cultures do, feel like they belong to the land. There's a lot of things that really felt very potent to me, that I felt struck a chord." As climate change continues to change the shape of our planet and AI threatens the makeup of our very existence, never has it felt so crucial to, both literally and metaphorically, touch grass. By awarding Train Dreams their most prestigious prize, the Academy could underscore the importance of such personal introspection and connection with the natural world during such a tumultuous era that has seemingly forgotten the significance of such virtues. Though it may not seem like it on the outside, the film makes the perfect companion piece with Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme, with both films singing from different pages of the American Dream. So too is it thematic siblings with Chloé Zhao’s Hamnet, as both harness the near-mythological beauty of the natural world to punctuate their passionate pleas of grief and resilience. Yet, Train Dreams certainly stands as its own epic, differentiating itself from the other nine best picture nominees through its sheer earnestness, pursuing a philosophical meaning to existence with the same impassioned quietude as a late-night campfire conversation. It is executed with delicate precision too, with cinematographer Adolpho Veloso managing to achieve the impossible by making digital film-making look remarkably like the grain and vivid depth of celluloid. A win in the cinematography category is its most likely success, as while the film is worthy of a best picture statuette, it seems to be languishing behind the pack. Yet, handing Train Dreams the main prize would be an astute choice for the Academy, particularly if they want to be seen as championing the industry’s most exciting upcoming creatives — Bentley and his co-writer Greg Kwedar just last year enjoyed critical and commercial success with the excellent Sing Sing. Doing so would broaden the film’s modest popularity, making its pertinent message of human resilience and connection in a turbulent world more widespread — and that can only ever be a good thing. Train Dreams is available to stream on Netflix. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Sinners becoming the 2026 best picture winner would prove the Oscars don't need to play it safe
Ryan Coogler's Mississippi-set horror has more nominations than any film in history — and is much more than just a vampire story.
From the moment Sinners hit cinema screens back in April of last year, it was clear that it would be a contender in the Hollywood awards race. There was immediate critical acclaim for everything from storytelling and soundtrack to casting and cinematography, which culminated in 16 Oscar nominations – the most received by a single film in history. But now, as 98th Academy Awards draws near, Sinners has increasingly felt like a worthy winner of the best picture Oscar. Yet another impressive outing from writer/director Ryan Coogler (Black Panther, Fruitvale Station) and star Michael B Jordan (Creed, Without Remorse), Sinners is set in Jim Crow-era Mississippi and follows twin brothers Smoke and Stack (Jordan) as they return to their hometown and open a juke joint, which reunites them with friends and loved ones like their cousin, Sammie 'Preacher Boy' Moore (Miles Caton). But what starts as a night of celebration for the Blues soon descends into destruction as the vampire Remmick (Jack O'Connell) arrives with a trail of blood in his wake. View Green Video on the source website The acclaim for Sinners feels more important than ever in a time when people of colour around the world are facing an exhausting cycle of violence and dehumanising rhetoric. Coogler takes a setting that constantly tells Black and brown communities that their lives are disposable and puts their ancestry and spirituality at the centre, proving they are important and have epic stories to be told. Just look at one the film's most striking scenes, the transcendent juke-joint dance sequence. As Sammie sings I Lied To You, spirits from the past and present are drawn into the joint, which catches the attention of Remmick, who hopes to turn Sammie into a vampire and use his gift of music to reconnect with his ancestors. It's an extraordinary moment, so it's no surprise that it's this very song that Caton will perform at this year's Oscars. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/02/GettyImages-2262996034-bf246b5.jpg" width="7636" height="5090" alt="Ryan Coogler accepts the Original Screenplay Award for 'Sinners' on stage during the EE BAFTA Film Awards 2026 at The Royal Festival Hall on February 22, 2026 in London, England." title="Ryan Coogler accepts the Original Screenplay Award for 'Sinners' on stage during the EE BAFTA Film Awards 2026 at The Royal Festival Hall on February 22, 2026 in London, England." /> At the heart of Sinners' success is its cast, with many members rightfully nominated in other Oscar categories, including Michael B Jordan for best actor, Delroy Lindo for best supporting actor and Wunmi Mosaku for best supporting actress, which she also won at this year's BAFTAs. For Caton, Sinners marks his onscreen debut, which is a feat made even more impressive by how much he holds his own opposite these acting greats – even when Sammie is made to feel weak and less spirited than his twin cousins. The last – and only – film to even resemble a horror movie and win best picture was The Silence of the Lambs in 1992 — and while there have been impressive accomplishments from other horror entries over the years (The Substance, Get Out), arguably none have had as rightful a claim as Sinners. For Hollywood, a victory for Sinners would prove that a best picture winner doesn't need to "play it safe". It would declare that a film dealing in the supernatural and the lore of vampires can be treated as serious art rather than "just another vampire movie". Indeed, in one of the two credits scenes, Coogler leaves audiences with a sentence to send shivers down their spines – and truly encapsulates the heart of his film's story. With all the oppression around them, Sinners' revelling characters were only truly free during their time spent in the juke joint before sundown, as even if Remmick wasn't summoned, a racist mob would still come to attack. When reunited with Sammie decades after the events of the deadly night, Stack is asked if he also felt that, before the sun went down, it was the best day of his life. He replies: "No doubt about it. Last time I seen my brother. Last time I seen the sun. And just for a few hours, we was free." Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
The Claudia Winkleman Show review: Was there any doubt we'd be in good hands?
There's a new Friday night chat show host in town!
It's only been a matter of days since Claudia Winkleman was last on our TV screens, thanks to Crufts, but tonight marked the first time we truly saw her in her element. Announced late last year, fresh off of The Celebrity Traitors high, the BBC announced that Winkleman would host her very own chat show, made by the same production company behind The Graham Norton Show. It's important to not draw comparisons between the two, because despite the same Friday night slot, Winkleman brings her well-known and much-loved flair to the sofa. The studio is impressive, and offers a very Traitors vibe, thanks to the dark teal colour of the sofas – as was correctly guessed by guest Jennifer Saunders. Though, despite the nod to the reality series, Winkleman carves herself out as a worthy chat show host – not just as the host of The Traitors who also happens to front a chat show. Over the course of her career, Winkleman has always had a level of professionalism, swagger and self-deprecating humour that many of the nation has grown to love, including those in attendance of the recording. From the off, her interactions with the audience gave viewers an idea of what was to come, and throughout the episode, she manages to weave in plenty of audience interaction to accompany the anecdotes of the celebrities. But is the show perhaps too reliant on its audiences participation? While, sure, the celebrities may know the stories they plan to tell ahead of time, too many audience members who just so happen to have a story or relation to the anecdote each episode could make it feel a little too staged. Where Winkleman excels in off-script moments (see: Celia Imrie's flatulence), it'd be a shame to not have more go-with-the-flow moments between her and the celebrities. Tonight's line-up included Jeff Goldblum, Jennifer Saunders, Vanessa Williams and Tom Allen, all of whom had great stories to tell and plenty of charisma to keep the show moving, but it was Winkleman who was able to keep the show on track smoothly, ensuring each of them had ample time to discuss their projects. A standout in particular was Tom Allen, as the comedian recalled the time he bought furniture and was asked if he had a nightstand, much to the bemusement of of Goldblum, who wasn't quite sure what a nightstand was. Future line-up offerings include Joanne McNally, Guz Khan and Niall Horan, followed by Lisa Kudrow, Jimmy Carr and Chase Infiniti in episode 3. It's clear from the launch episode that Winkleman has a way with celebrities, with each appearing to be at ease and genuinely happy to be there – something we know the presenter does all too well. From her history in the Clauditorium chatting away with celebrities and the professional dancers after a performance, to comforting players in The Traitors when it all becomes too much in the turret, Winkleman is able to bring out the best stories and personality in people, something we've all been privy to over the years. Though in a completely different set up to the Strictly ballroom or The Traitors castle, Claudia Winkleman holds her own in her first chat show outing. But was there any doubt we'd be in safe hands? The Claudia Winkleman Show continues on Friday 20 March at 10:40pm on BBC One and iPlayer. Add The Claudia Winkleman Show to your watchlist on the Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
How a win for the delicate Sentimental Value would bring something totally fresh to the Oscars' 2026 best picture race
With nine nominations and some of the finest performances of the year, this fine Norwegian family drama is more than worthy of the top prize.
"But we didn't have the same childhood. I had you.” Spoken by Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas’s Agnes in Sentimental Value, these 10 words are some of the most affecting in any film from 2025. It's a line that encapsulates the reason that the film has been nominated for nine awards in this year’s Oscars race – one that perfectly and poignantly captures the antithetical yet remarkable relationship between sisters. Renate Reinsve’s Nora, brown-eyed and teary, cradles the gentle form of the younger sister she has spent a lifetime loving, attempting to compensate for the affection withheld by their father and wondering why Agnes didn’t end up as fractured as she did. It’s a seismic moment – and one that any viewer of the 133-minute feature would cite as a standout. That scene alone feels worthy of an award. Of all the films nominated for best picture this year, it’s clear that Sentimental Value possesses the most heart – and for that reason, it deserves to win. Following his acclaimed drama The Worst Person in the World (arguably a 2022 best picture snub itself), Norwegian filmmaker Joachim Trier has returned with an even more assured character study in the form of Sentimental Value, once again centred on a performance by the astonishing Renate Reinsve. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/03/SentimentalValue32Renate-ReinsveAnders-DanielsenLiePhotoKasper-Tuxen-Andersen-2dd7ea4-e1772533480422.jpg" width="3230" height="2150" alt="Renate Reinsve as Nora in Sentimental Value, laying down in a bed, with covers pulled over her, smiling." title="SentimentalValue_32_Renate-Reinsve_Anders-Danielsen_Lie_Photo_Kasper-Tuxen-Andersen" /> This time, she’s Nora Borg – a 30-something theatre actress whose adult identity has been painfully marred by her relationship with her estranged father Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård), an acclaimed film director. When Gustav offers Nora a part in his new film, her historic resentment of him begins to resurface. What soon unfolds is a story of love, change and the limits of forgiveness, complicated further when American actress Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning) is instead cast in the film as the character based on Gustav’s deceased mother, Karin. Films about family have always been integral to the Oscars. From Kramer vs Kramer to Little Women to Little Miss Sunshine and beyond, the family unit is a structure that both the Academy and audiences have been drawn to for decades – likely because of how intimate and relatable its intricacies can be. Sentimental Value slots itself within this genre at the highest tier. Its exploration of sisterhood, of the trauma suffered by the oldest daughter within a dysfunctional family system, is not only deeply realistic and profoundly poignant, but acutely confronting for much of the film’s audience. How eloquently the film manages to capture such a specific yet overlooked window of real life is more than enough reason for a win. The immaculate performances of its leading ladies also make Sentimental Value so emotionally penetrating. Nora's complexities, Agnes's delicacy and Rachel's sensitivity are all exceptional – with all three actresses so well aligned to their roles that it's almost uncanny. It’s simply no wonder that as well as best picture and a slew of other nominations, all three of the women also received nods for their turns in the film. Skarsgård is also bold in his portrayal of emotionally unintelligent Gustav – at times completely infuriating and at others, almost tragic. The film’s acting feats are only strengthened by its earnest script, rich cinematography and stunning production design. Not a single other of this year’s nominees managed to transform something as regular as a house into a character of its own – yet Sentimental Value somehow finds itself able to do so with a delightful ease. The dark panelled, Dragestil-style wooden structure of the Borg family home is filmed steadily and centrally, yet in a way that is intimate and connecting – skilfully transitioning bricks and mortar into a living, breathing manifestation of familial history – with all the memories of laughter, love and loss that several generations of the Borg family have endured. At times, such presentation even leaves the audience concerned more for the fate of the house than the outcome of its human characters. A best picture win for Sentimental Value would also make history as only the second ever international film to win the award. In nearly a century of Oscars history, only the 2019 Korean black comedy-thriller Parasite managed to achieve the feat. For Sentimental Value to follow in its footsteps would be a triumph: a resounding signal that non-English language stories, those rooted in culture and family and history, are worthy of recognition on a global scale – not just on a one-off chance. View Green Video on the source website Sentimental Value may not be as clamorous as Sinners, as incensing as One Battle After Another, or as overtly determined to drain the tears from its audience as Hamnet. It’s not a film that relies on being direct or excessive. What Sentimental Value is, however, is a tender, cinematic study of humanity. Of existence. Of the reasons we become the way we are. And so, perhaps after several recent years of boisterous best pictures, it’s time for something more delicate to regain a victory. Sentimental Value is now streaming on MUBI. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
From Benson to Scarpetta: How women are rewriting the rules of US TV crime drama
Forget the hard stare and slammed fist – today’s detectives solve crimes by thinking differently.
When it comes to playing the long game, few people have more patience than fans of Dr Kay Scarpetta. Patricia Cornwell’s forensic pathologist has been solving murders in readers’ imaginations ever since the publication of Postmortem back in 1990. Yet it has taken until 2026 for crime fiction’s most famous medical examiner to finally journey from bookshelves to the screen. Now, at last, she arrives in Scarpetta, with Nicole Kidman snapping on the latex gloves for Prime Video. After 30-odd years of anticipation, the adaptation feels less like a premiere and more like the end of one of television’s longest gestation periods. But Scarpetta’s debut is also oddly well-timed. Because if the current wave of American crime drama proves anything, it’s that the procedural – once the most stubbornly male corner of TV – has quietly become a genre led by women. Every good detective needs evidence, of course, so let’s consult the schedules. There we find the reboot of Matlock, where Kathy Bates plays an underestimated older lawyer who proves far more formidable than the sleek New York firm that hires her initially suspects. Elsewhere, there’s High Potential, in which Kaitlin Olson’s single parent – armed with a sky-high IQ and a low tolerance for policy – becomes an unlikely asset to the LAPD. Over in Elsbeth, Carrie Preston solves crimes largely by being so winningly kooky that suspects forget they’re supposed to be lying to her. And anchoring Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, Mariska Hargitay’s Olivia Benson has spent three decades proving that empathy can be just as powerful a weapon as intimidation when tackling especially heinous crimes. What distinguishes these shows isn’t simply that women stand at their centre. It’s that the mysteries unfold differently because they do. Their appeal lies not just in who gets top billing, but in the fresh perspectives their crime-solvers bring to the case. To see how much has changed, it helps to look back at the traditional protagonists of the police procedural. For decades, television detectives tended to bring suspects to book through sheer force of personality. Cast your mind back to the 1970s and you’ll find the granite authority of Kojak or Ironside, both capable of taking command of a room with little more than a steely glare. Even the crumpled genius of Columbo relied on relentless persistence. However mild he appeared, he’d always tirelessly grind the truth out of his increasingly exasperated prime suspect. Many of today’s female-led procedurals work to a different rhythm. Their lead characters don’t dominate the room; they solve the case because few expect them to. In these shows, power lies less in authority than in being misjudged – a useful advantage when everyone else assumes they’ve already worked you out. In Matlock, Kathy Bates’s lawyer turns the assumptions people make about her into a kind of legal superpower. Over in Elsbeth, Carrie Preston knows perfectly well that suspects mistake her eccentricity for stupidity – and happily lets them believe so until they slip up. And in High Potential, Kaitlin Olson’s civilian consultant looks like the least authoritative person in the precinct, even as her mind is racing several steps ahead of the officers around her. In each case, the gap between how these women are perceived and what they can actually do becomes an investigative tool in its own right. The kind of intelligence these shows prize is different, too. In the vintage procedural, the decisive moment usually arrived through brute force: a lung-straining chase down the street, a slammed fist in the interrogation room, the perp finally 'fessing up under pressure. In newer ones, the breakthrough often comes from something quieter – a slip of the tongue, a glance that lingers too long, the behavioural tell that gives the game away. In Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, Mariska Hargitay’s Olivia Benson solves cases partly because she understands the trauma and psychology of survivors. In the now cruelly cancelled Poker Face, Natasha Lyonne’s drifter detective has a flair for spotting incriminatory lies. Scarpetta adds yet another kind of authority into the mix. Where traditional detectives probed suspects, she interrogates the body itself, reconstructing a victim’s final moments through forensic science. Her authority stems not from intimidation, but from her ability to clock evidence everyone else has missed. Read more: What to watch on streaming: today's picks from Netflix, Prime Video and more Patricia Cornwell talks Scarpetta finally making it to the screen and her surprise cameo: "I was so overwhelmed" It’s a further sign of how the modern procedural hero is governed less by toughness than by perspective. What draws us in isn’t a stand-off or showdown – it’s the pleasure of watching a particular kind of mind spark to life. View Green Video on the source website None of this happened overnight, of course. Earlier series such as The Closer, which starred Kyra Sedgwick, or Veronica Mars, with Kristen Bell, demonstrated long ago that viewers would embrace female investigators who approached detection in unconventional ways. Even further back, Cagney and Lacey proved how magnetic credible female cops could be as the focus of a serious drama. What feels different now is that such characters no longer seem unusual or the exceptions. They’re becoming the genre’s defining figures. Which makes the release of Scarpetta seem all the timelier. After more than 30 years in the bestseller charts, she finally steps into a more liberated television landscape that feels primed for her – one where the procedural is no longer dominated by a single male model of detective, but open to a wide range of minds capable of bringing criminals to justice. All episodes of Scarpetta are available from Wednesday 11 March on Amazon Prime Video. Sign up for a 30-day free trial of Prime Video and pay £8.99 a month after that. Add Scarpetta to your watchlist on the <a id="OWA8b702c45-bee9-94e4-f018-57518e78041b" title="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" href="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-outlook-id="449c28d9-909e-4aab-b6b8-153454f55d5e" data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0">Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
How The Secret Agent's overflow of cinematic possibilities proves it deserves best picture at the 2026 Oscars
Wagner Moura is quietly staggering in this textured, stylish and profound Brazilian film from Kleber Mendonça Filho.
The wholehearted embrace of international cinema – once largely consigned to its own separate category – has been one of the most encouraging developments at the Oscars in recent years. Since Parasite’s groundbreaking win back in 2020, almost every best picture line-up has seen at least one film in a language other than English compete for the top prize, and that’s the case again this year, with both Norwegian drama Sentimental Value and Brazilian film The Secret Agent in the mix. The latter of those is, for my money, the best of a pretty stellar crop of nominees in the category. Interestingly, it’s the second film from Brazil in as many years to be up for best picture, following on from Walter Salles's I'm Still Here last time out. And that’s not the only similarity between the pair. Just like that film, The Secret Agent unfolds in the 1970s against the tumultuous backdrop of the country’s military dictatorship, although on this occasion we’re dealing with a work of fiction inspired by the atmosphere of the era rather than the dramatisation of a true story. The fourth narrative feature from writer/director Kleber Mendonça Filho, the gripping, stylish, and at times endearingly offbeat film is built around a quietly staggering performance from Wagner Moura, who is quite rightly up for best actor. Moura plays Armando, a university professor with an initially unclear past on the run for reasons that are gradually and deftly unspooled over a luxurious 2 hour 40 minute run-time that never comes close to dragging. In the early scenes, he arrives in the city of Recife and adopts a new identity as Marcelo, seeking to evade his enemies while also reuniting with his young son Fernando, who is living with the parents of his mysteriously dead wife. That’s the starting point for a remarkable, profound film that defies easy categorisation and consistently keeps the audience on its toes, offering up a richer range of delights than any of its competitors in the awards race. From the tense opening sequence set at a petrol station – where a lone dead body lies ominously on the ground – to a riveting climatic chase scene with a memorable instrumental score, the film is dripping with atmosphere and local character. Crucially, Mendonça Filho manages to convey the terrors of the dictatorship and the insidious evils of a corrupt society while also expressing a clear affection for Recife of the time and its ordinary residents, a nostalgia that could earlier be glimpsed in his 2023 documentary Pictures of Ghosts. This approach includes a number of dramatic detours that naysayers might argue saddles the film with a lack of focus, but in truth provides a freewheeling looseness that only adds to its transportive power. There’s an entire subplot dedicated to a recent shark attack that eventually leads to one of the film’s most eccentric touches: a fantastic B-movie inspired sequence starring a rampaging severed leg. Meanwhile, Mendonça Filho also includes a touching send off for the late German actor Udo Kier, who previously appeared in his surreal 2019 western Bacurau and has a striking cameo here. Throughout, the film is truly alive to the possibilities of cinema – and it’s no coincidence that Armando’s father-in-law is employed as the projectionist at a local picture house, where young Fernando has become entranced by the poster for Jaws. One of those possibilities, which gives the film its main thematic thrust, is the vital significance of cinema as a tool of collective memory. Although set in the ‘70s, the film is inspired by Brazil’s more recent brush with fascism under the far-right government of Jair Bolsonaro, and it seeks to both honour the memory of the brave dissidents whose sacrifices in that earlier era have been scrubbed from the official record and to acknowledge that the only way of facing up to present and future troubles is to address the evils of the past. This aspect of the film is further driven home by a smart framing device that sees a modern day student learning about the activities of Moura's character through audio recordings and newspaper archives, building up to an affecting coda. View Green Video on the source website From a technical standpoint, The Secret Agent is near faultless, and special commendations must go to cinematographer Evgenia Alexandrova and production designer Thales Junqueira, whose work combine to create a ‘70s Brazil that feels richly detailed and bursting with colourful life. Meanwhile, casting director Gabriel Domingues thoroughly deserves his own Oscar nod; every actor, from Tânia Maria as vivacious elderly dissident Dona Sebastiana to Kaiony Venâncio as chilling hitman Vilmar, fits their character to a tee. It’s the combination of these factors – the political and personal relevancy, the textured sense of time and place, the tremendous character work, the sheer thrilling cinematic verve of it all – that would make The Secret Agent such a deserving Oscar winner. It truly stands apart from the rest of the pack. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Farewell, Liza Tarbuck – our Saturdays evenings have lost their light
After the announcement that Liza Tarbuck is stepping down from her Saturday evening Radio 2 show, we pay tribute to her incomparable style.
If the murmuration, mohomes, Top Bird Trumpingtons and “Pauline!” mean nothing to you, then you’ve obviously never tuned in to Radio 2 at 6pm on a Saturday evening for two hours of the most joyous, slightly bonkers show on the airwaves. Now, sadly, you will never have that experience, as the host of that gem in the BBC’s crown, the incomparable Liza Tarbuck, has said that after some time off, she will not be returning to the show as she’d “like her weekend back”. This isn’t supposed to be an obituary, but you can bet that for her thousands of ardent listeners – aka the murmuration – a little light went out when they heard that their Saturday evening lodestar was disappearing. Before the news of her departure broke, and while it seemed she was only on a sabbatical, a colleague commented that there would be “uproar” if Radio 2 got rid of Liza. As it is, there will be plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth. For since she took up residence in 2012, up until what would turn out to be her final show on 17 January this year, she grew a devout community of followers all too willing to share their silly family sayings, elderly relatives’ confused malapropisms, tales of stupidity and woe, and most importantly, what they’re cooking for dinner and where they have parked the motorhome (mohome) for the night. The more outrageous of these tales could induce one of the most delightful sounds on the radio, as Liza struggled to hold it together while dissolving into a fit of giggles at the sheer madness of it all. Her approach often followed the Mel Brooks adage, “Stubbing your toe on the sidewalk is a tragedy; falling into an open sewer and dying is comedy,” with the more terrible the listener in the story’s personal anguish, the more guffaws it could elicit. Yet none of it was done with spite or malice; there was a genuine mutual feeling of love for her family of listeners – for beyond the mentions of “dad” and “Pauline!”, it was those who wrote in, took part in the weekly fancy dress ice skating, or simply listened in for an uplifting, eclectic playlist that could range from a 1920s New Orleans jazz side to Bruno Mars, who became a strange, widespread family. A bit like a murmuration when you come to think about it. On the morning after the announcement, one member of that flock was quick to share their admittedly bittersweet appreciation, writing to Radio Times, "The quirkiest, funniest, most eagerly anticipated show: Liza Tarbuck on a Saturday evening, whether we were in our caravan or not, the most eclectic, brilliant, funniest show on that station with a choice of music second to none. Yet, suddenly, it is no more." Posting on Instagram about her departure, Liza returned the compliment: “We made 2 hrs of radio feel like a private members club, that's the stuff of dreams. Thousands of people enjoyed each other's company like great friends... Thank you for letting me in, it's been a privilege.” Writing in Radio Times in 2022, to mark the show’s tenth anniversary, under the heading, Chaos by Appointment, Liza pinned the success of the show squarely on those on-air friends, “That longevity is all thanks to our marvellous listeners and their stories. We get the most messages of any show on the station (about 50 texts and emails per minute) so there’s a lot to wade through. “Basically, we’re after a good laugh. I’m enjoying our running thread about things dropping on people’s heads. There was an email the other week from a guy who had a squirrel fall out of a tree and land on his head. In the ensuing panic, a load of school kids pointed and laughed. Perfect.” As chaotic as the show may have seemed, leading many to suspect that Liza was either suffering from some kind of menopausal meltdown or had one or two glasses too many of “lady petrol” beforehand, it was a carefully constructed two hours – despite Liza always seeming surprised when the ice skating music played in – in which she wore her music knowledge lightly (though she would arrive at the studio early to check that the correct versions of everything on the playlist were cued up) and was more likely to introduce an oldie with what would now be considered questionable lyrics with a cheery, “Listen to this idiot!” She was surely the only BBC presenter who could get away with something like that, and in the announcement of Liza’s departure, Helen Thomas, head of Radio 2 – on FM, DAB and on your smart trousers – said: “Every Saturday evening, Liza created a truly magical, fantastical world. She was beloved by everyone at the station and all her listeners, and the door at Radio 2 will always be open for her.” We can but wish... But as Liza skates off into the distance, wearing a gold lamé jumpsuit festooned with chaffinches, a silver-tipped feather boa and a Carmen Miranda fruit-and-nut hat made specially for the occasion, all that remains is to name her in six words or less: Shine on you crazy diamond.
Star Trek is struggling to find its moment – and it might need to face up to a hard truth
As the franchise marks its 60th anniversary, its optimistic vision feels out of step with the current political mood.
Add Star Trek: Starfleet Academy to your watchlist There’s a scene late in the 1991 movie Star Trek VI: the Undiscovered Country where old warhorses Kirk and Spock wonder whether they’ve outlived their own usefulness. The film itself is a Cold War allegory that sees the once-adversarial Klingons brokering for peace, a situation that leaves the Enterprise crewmates confronting a galaxy that may no longer need them. It’s a sobering moment in a story that serves as a swan song for the original team. But it’s also a question that echoes today, not just for Kirk but for Star Trek itself. The underwhelming performance of latest offshoot Starfleet Academy in early Nielsen ratings, and the fact that no new series is currently in production, suggest a once-dominant sci-fi brand is struggling to capture the public imagination. Streaming fragmentation muddies the numbers, but the cultural temperature feels far cooler than in previous eras. A show that once defined television science fiction now feels strangely peripheral. But this could be more than just franchise fatigue. It may be that Star Trek’s worldview is simply out of step with the political mood. Because historically, the franchise tends to flourish at one particular kind of time: moments when the United States feels confident about the future. Just consider when Star Trek has previously thrived. It arrived amid the optimism of JFK’s “reach for the stars” rhetoric. It soared again with The Next Generation during Reagan’s “Morning in America” resurgence of the late 1980s and the post-Cold War triumphalism of Clinton’s 1990s. In short, Star Trek chimes when America believes the future belongs to it. Contrast that with the periods when it’s struggled. In the 1970s, distrust of institutions runs high after the Watergate scandal – and Star Trek exists mostly in reruns until the films revive it. Once we hit the 2000s and George W Bush’s war on terror, Star Trek again stumbles with the lacklustre Enterprise, which is axed after four seasons. There’s a sense here that when the prevailing culture becomes anxious or cynical, the show’s utopian tone can feel naïve and irrelevant. The exception is '90s spin-off Deep Space Nine, the one show willing to test Star Trek’s ideals rather than just celebrate them. With later seasons set during a time of war, Captain Benjamin Sisko is seen questioning the extent to which the Federation ought to sacrifice its principles to survive. View Green Video on the source website There’s real moral ambiguity here, but with Deep Space Nine airing alongside The Next Generation and later Voyager, the optimistic core of Star Trek was being protected elsewhere. Deep Space Nine could push boundaries because it wasn’t the shop window. Today, there’s no such protective glass. All of which brings us to 2026 and Donald Trump’s more aggressive posture on the world stage. With opinion polarised and faith in governments waning, Starfleet’s assumptions – cooperation, decency, consensus – feel increasingly distant from political reality. It may sound churlish to point this out in the year when Star Trek is marking its 60th anniversary, but none of the recent series (Discovery, Picard, Strange New Worlds, Starfleet Academy) have left a deep cultural footprint. Might this be because the Federation looks suspiciously like a benevolent superpower extending its reach across the galaxy – liberal internationalism with warp drive? At a time when US influence is contested, that metaphor leaves us with a prickle of unease. There’s a paradox at the heart of this. Yes, Star Trek can feel like an imperialist project, but it’s also aspirational. It shows what humanity might become. But optimism works best when it feels attainable. In moments where we feel jaded and sceptical, a perfect future can feel less like hope and more like denial. And so, just as the original Enterprise crew realised it was time to hand over the future in The Undiscovered Country, Star Trek perhaps ought to come to the realisation that it needs a pause. The franchise has survived dormant periods before and then returned when the public was ready to believe in its values once more. Perhaps the most Trek thing the brand could do right now is wait patiently for the future to catch up with it again.
Spoilers, sweetie! Why Doctor Who fans need to learn the joy of waiting
Fans are already fretting about casting and Christmas plot details. But the long wait is not a problem that needs solving.
Add Doctor Who to your watchlist It’s the early hours of Christmas Day 2007 and I’m woken by the sound of paper being torn in my son’s bedroom. Stumbling half-dazed to where he ought to have been sleeping, I’m met instead by the sight of discarded wrapping and an action figure of David Tennant clutched triumphantly in my young child’s hand. So excited was he by the prospect of Doctor Who toys arriving that he couldn’t wait until morning. But he was of primary-school age, so that anticipatory thrill was understandable – if slightly taxing for his dad, who’d been wrestling with Sellotape and gift tags until close to midnight. At the time, I did, admittedly, feel robbed of precious sleep. But looking back, I should have been grateful that the youngest Doctor Who fan in our house had at least managed to contain his excitement until the clock ticked over to the 25th of December. Because in 2026, Doctor Who fandom is in danger of hyping itself into a state of insensibility a full nine months before Christmas. Granted, the most recent episode of the BBC sci-fi series – which saw Ncuti Gatwa’s Doctor regenerate into Billie Piper – left audiences with several questions. Chief among them: whether Piper, who was once companion Rose Tyler, is really playing the Doctor at all. Answers will no doubt arrive in December. But already, a faint air of online panic hangs over claims that the script for the upcoming Christmas special exists in several different versions. Theories about surprise regenerations fill speculative “news” articles, while a supposed casting delay is seized upon as proof that the show must somehow be in disarray. It has become a depressingly familiar pattern. The moment there is a gap in information, the vacuum fills with confident declarations that Doctor Who has entered the disaster zone – a conclusion eagerly amplified by sections of the press whose broader mission is to do down the BBC. But dare we consider the possibility that the production team may simply want to keep hold of its secrets, especially with such a long stretch between this year’s festive special being crafted and broadcast? These days, though, patience from the public feels about as likely as the Doctor landing the TARDIS exactly where he intended. We expect entertainment instantly. Entire seasons arrive in a single streaming drop. Autoplay hustles us into the next episode before the credits have barely got going. And the words “Coming soon”, which once carried a delicious sense of anticipation, now sound intolerably vague. Uncertainty used to feel like part of the production process. Now it’s treated as a system failure. Casting needs to be confirmed immediately. The moment an episode begins shooting, plot details are expected to enter the public domain. And if a Christmas special is still months away, the alien threat and the emotional pay-off ought to be announced in a press release before a director has even yelled, “Action”. Yet it wasn’t always like this. The gap between initial announcement and broadcast used to be where the pleasure lived. Before an episode aired, it existed in a state of pure possibility. But we seem to have forgotten how to relish a plotline that might still fizz off in any number of directions. Maybe Piper really is playing the Doctor and not Rose. Or perhaps Rose and the Doctor somehow changed places when he regenerated. The current instinct, though, is not to enjoy this imaginative liminal zone but to exterminate it – like a Dalek on a rampage. The sooner a mystery is solved, the better. Which is slightly counterproductive when you consider that stories are built around the thrill of not knowing. And look, I get it. Doctor Who has always been an immersive jigsaw and its fans have grown used to piecing together its long history in fragments. Coupled with lingering uncertainty about the show’s next phase following the end of the BBC’s production deal with Disney, it’s understandable that dedicated viewers are now leaning into the future, impatient for the next milestone to arrive. But suspense isn’t a problem that needs fixing with the wave of a sonic screwdriver. Stories – like life – are destined to unfold in time (and space). And the hush that surrounds a Christmas special isn’t a frustrating broken link. It’s the moment when anticipation grows and imaginations spark. People are forever wishing their lives forward. Children want to be older; adults can’t wait for the weekend. But perhaps we should heed the warning of River Song, whose catchphrase of “Spoilers!” is a rebuke to the Doctor whenever he gets too curious about his own future. Instead of demanding answers, we might try revelling in this brief stretch where we all become co-writers of the Time Lord’s next adventure. Because once the Christmas special airs, that creative space collapses. A thousand possibilities streamline into a single version of events. Speculation gives way to the dreaded star rating. What worked? What didn’t? And then comes the familiar, slightly hollow realisation: now we have to wait all over again. The finished episode can only unfold in one way. What we have now is the unwatched version – the one that still contains every permutation our minds can conjure. And perhaps that’s the real gift. Back in 2007, my son couldn’t bear to leave his Doctor Who presents untouched until dawn. The excitement of what might be inside proved too much to resist. But sometimes the unopened package is where the magic lives. And maybe – just maybe – the rest of us should learn to leave the wrapping paper intact for a little longer.
Why One Battle After Another deserves to win the war for best picture at the 2026 Oscars
Celebrating a film as politically urgent as the action thriller with Leonardo DiCaprio is an opportunity the Academy must not miss – especially when recognition for 14-time nominee Paul Thomas Anderson is so overdue.
The so-called “Career Oscar” can be an awkward compliment. There are two types, but both are tinged with embarrassment: honorary Oscars for those who never received a statuette — and competitive awards given to established talent largely due to their unrecognised body of previous work, rather than the film actually nominated that year. Alfred Hitchcock, David Lynch, Charlie Chaplin, Debbie Reynolds and Peter O'Toole are some of the most egregious examples of the former; Martin Scorsese (The Departed), Paul Newman (The Color of Money), Al Pacino (Scent of a Woman) and Henry Fonda (On Golden Pond) fit into the latter category, where one can hardly say they won for their best work. This year, the Academy can avoid another one of these by handing Paul Thomas Anderson a best picture Oscar. The superlative One Battle After Another presents voters with an unmissable opportunity to invest in their future selves and save face down the line, after years of leaving a generation’s most acclaimed film-maker without a prize from his industry’s leading body. The Californian writer/director has come a long way from the 27-year-old wunderkind who dazzled audiences with his second feature in 1997, the porn-industry drama Boogie Nights. That was the first of his films to receive an Oscar nomination and he has been a consistent fixture on ballots ever since, with eight out of his ten features nominated in any category. Overall, Anderson’s films have had 41 nominations and won three awards, for acting, cinematography and costume design. The man behind There Will Be Blood, The Master, Phantom Thread and Licorice Pizza has 14 nominations and zero wins to his own name. View Green Video on the source website Of course, the likes of Sinners and Hamnet should not lose to One Battle because Anderson’s previous films deserved more love in years gone by — that would be the kind of logic that sees the Academy get it wrong so often. Rather, Anderson’s time has come because One Battle is an achievement that stands above the competition in its own right. As with Oppenheimer two years ago, the fact that the statuette would go to an acclaimed-but-unrecognised film-maker is merely convenient for the Academy. What makes One Battle so singular is its dexterity. Released in September to widespread and breathless praise, not least from our own review, the loose adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s novel Vineland follows paranoid recluse Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his daughter Willa (Chase Infiniti) as they are hunted by a ruthless army colonel (Sean Penn), who has history with Bob after the latter's years in a left-wing revolutionary group. It is a film that defies easy genre categorisation in the best way: equal parts political thriller, father-daughter drama, stoner comedy and pulp actioner. As much as the comedy of Anderson’s script entertains, the film has an astonishingly countercultural edge for something that cost Warner Bros over $100 million. A farcical and shaggy quest for a phone charger is intercut with a riot between immigration enforcement officers and civilians; the best Hollywood car chase since Mad Max: Fury Road is preceded by a gag about Tom Cruise; there are white supremacists who discuss eugenics while calling themselves The Christmas Adventurers Club. View Green Video on the source website To smuggle this social commentary into such an accessible package should be commended, as unlike the cynical Bugonia, it shows that having something to say about America’s cultural moment should not be at the cost of entertainment. In 1997, Anderson said in an interview that he left film school after a screenwriting teacher told students they should not aim to make Terminator 2. Sean Penn’s near-indestructible villain in One Battle is a middle finger to such snobbery and the Academy should echo the sentiment. Anderson is something of a shoo-in for the best director prize this year, but in recent years that award has felt like a consolation for contenders whose films are deemed too ambitious for best picture. Just ask The Power of the Dog’s Jane Campion or Roma’s Alfonso Cuarón. At the time of writing, One Battle After Another is seemingly in a two-horse race with Sinners, the only nominee that can compete in terms of cultural footprint. Ryan Coogler’s blockbusting vampire horror would be a refreshing outlier in the best picture canon, but there’s an argument that a win would not serve it well. Sinners’s strength is in its embrace of horror and the B-movie, but a best picture Oscar off the back of a record 16 nominations would have people debating its credentials among traditional “prestige” dramas, which Coogler’s film has no interest in being. One Battle After Another would perhaps be a more conventional winner in this regard, but absolutely no less thrilling. An urgent film of resistance and rebellion would be an apposite and culturally confronting choice — and exactly the kind that the Academy should make in a time when America appears on the brink. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
It’s the early hours of Christmas Day 2007 and I’m woken by the sound of paper being torn in my son’s bedroom. Stumbling half-dazed to where he ought to have been sleeping, I’m met instead by the sight of discarded wrapping and an action figure of David Tennant clutched triumphantly in my young child’s hand. So excited was he by the prospect of Doctor Who toys arriving that he couldn’t wait until morning. But he was of primary-school age, so that anticipatory thrill was understandable – if slightly taxing for his dad, who’d been wrestling with Sellotape and gift tags until close to midnight. At the time, I did, admittedly, feel robbed of precious sleep. But looking back, I should have been grateful that the youngest Doctor Who fan in our house had at least managed to contain his excitement until the clock ticked over to the 25th of December. Because in 2026, Doctor Who fandom is in danger of hyping itself into a state of insensibility a full nine months before Christmas. Granted, the most recent episode of the BBC sci-fi series – which saw Ncuti Gatwa’s Doctor regenerate into Billie Piper – left audiences with several questions. Chief among them: whether Piper, who was once companion Rose Tyler, is really playing the Doctor at all. Answers will no doubt arrive in December. But already, a faint air of online panic hangs over claims that the script for the upcoming Christmas special exists in several different versions. Theories about surprise regenerations fill speculative “news” articles, while a supposed casting delay is seized upon as proof that the show must somehow be in disarray. It has become a depressingly familiar pattern. The moment there is a gap in information, the vacuum fills with confident declarations that Doctor Who has entered the disaster zone – a conclusion eagerly amplified by sections of the press whose broader mission is to do down the BBC. But dare we consider the possibility that the production team may simply want to keep hold of its secrets, especially with such a long stretch between this year’s festive special being crafted and broadcast? These days, though, patience from the public feels about as likely as the Doctor landing the TARDIS exactly where he intended. We expect entertainment instantly. Entire seasons arrive in a single streaming drop. Autoplay hustles us into the next episode before the credits have barely got going. And the words “Coming soon”, which once carried a delicious sense of anticipation, now sound intolerably vague. Uncertainty used to feel like part of the production process. Now it’s treated as a system failure. Casting needs to be confirmed immediately. The moment an episode begins shooting, plot details are expected to enter the public domain. And if a Christmas special is still months away, the alien threat and the emotional pay-off ought to be announced in a press release before a director has even yelled, “Action”. Yet it wasn’t always like this. The gap between initial announcement and broadcast used to be where the pleasure lived. Before an episode aired, it existed in a state of pure possibility. But we seem to have forgotten how to relish a plotline that might still fizz off in any number of directions. Maybe Piper really is playing the Doctor and not Rose. Or perhaps Rose and the Doctor somehow changed places when he regenerated. The current instinct, though, is not to enjoy this imaginative liminal zone but to exterminate it – like a Dalek on a rampage. The sooner a mystery is solved, the better. Which is slightly counterproductive when you consider that stories are built around the thrill of not knowing. And look, I get it. Doctor Who has always been an immersive jigsaw and its fans have grown used to piecing together its long history in fragments. Coupled with lingering uncertainty about the show’s next phase following the end of the BBC’s production deal with Disney, it’s understandable that dedicated viewers are now leaning into the future, impatient for the next milestone to arrive. But suspense isn’t a problem that needs fixing with the wave of a sonic screwdriver. Stories – like life – are destined to unfold in time (and space). And the hush that surrounds a Christmas special isn’t a frustrating broken link. It’s the moment when anticipation grows and imaginations spark. Add Radio Times as a Preferred Source on Google Keep up to date on what’s worth watching with your favourite entertainment news from Radio Times – see more of our exclusive news and interviews featured prominently in Top Stories when using Google. People are forever wishing their lives forward. Children want to be older; adults can’t wait for the weekend. But perhaps we should heed the warning of River Song, whose catchphrase of “Spoilers!” is a rebuke to the Doctor whenever he gets too curious about his own future. Instead of demanding answers, we might try revelling in this brief stretch where we all become co-writers of the Time Lord’s next adventure. Because once the Christmas special airs, that creative space collapses. A thousand possibilities streamline into a single version of events. Speculation gives way to the dreaded star rating. What worked? What didn’t? And then comes the familiar, slightly hollow realisation: now we have to wait all over again. The finished episode can only unfold in one way. What we have now is the unwatched version – the one that still contains every permutation our minds can conjure. And perhaps that’s the real gift. Back in 2007, my son couldn’t bear to leave his Doctor Who presents untouched until dawn. The excitement of what might be inside proved too much to resist. But sometimes the unopened package is where the magic lives. And maybe – just maybe – the rest of us should learn to leave the wrapping paper intact for a little longer. Doctor Who will return at Christmas and is available to stream on BBC iPlayer. Check out more of our Sci-fi coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
If the murmuration, mohomes, Top Bird Trumpingtons and “Pauline!” mean nothing to you, then you’ve obviously never tuned in to Radio 2 at 6pm on a Saturday evening for two hours of the most joyous, slightly bonkers show on the airwaves. Now, sadly, you will never have that experience, as the host of that gem in the BBC’s crown, the incomparable Liza Tarbuck, has said that after some time off, she will not be returning to the show as she’d “like her weekend back”. This isn’t supposed to be an obituary, but you can bet that for her thousands of ardent listeners – aka the murmuration – a little light went out when they heard that their Saturday evening lodestar was disappearing. Before the news of her departure broke, and while it seemed she was only on a sabbatical, a colleague commented that there would be “uproar” if Radio 2 got rid of Liza. As it is, there will be plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth. For since she took up residence in 2012, up until what would turn out to be her final show on 17 January this year, she grew a devout community of followers all too willing to share their silly family sayings, elderly relatives’ confused malapropisms, tales of stupidity and woe, and most importantly, what they’re cooking for dinner and where they have parked the motorhome (mohome) for the night. The more outrageous of these tales could induce one of the most delightful sounds on the radio, as Liza struggled to hold it together while dissolving into a fit of giggles at the sheer madness of it all. Her approach often followed the Mel Brooks adage, “Stubbing your toe on the sidewalk is a tragedy; falling into an open sewer and dying is comedy,” with the more terrible the listener in the story’s personal anguish, the more guffaws it could elicit. Yet none of it was done with spite or malice; there was a genuine mutual feeling of love for her family of listeners – for beyond the mentions of “dad” and “Pauline!”, it was those who wrote in, took part in the weekly fancy dress ice skating, or simply listened in for an uplifting, eclectic playlist that could range from a 1920s New Orleans jazz side to Bruno Mars, who became a strange, widespread family. A bit like a murmuration when you come to think about it. On the morning after the announcement, one member of that flock was quick to share their admittedly bittersweet appreciation, writing to Radio Times, "The quirkiest, funniest, most eagerly anticipated show: Liza Tarbuck on a Saturday evening, whether we were in our caravan or not, the most eclectic, brilliant, funniest show on that station with a choice of music second to none. Yet, suddenly, it is no more." Posting on Instagram about her departure, Liza returned the compliment: “We made 2 hrs of radio feel like a private members club, that's the stuff of dreams. Thousands of people enjoyed each other's company like great friends... Thank you for letting me in, it's been a privilege.” Writing in Radio Times in 2022, to mark the show’s tenth anniversary, under the heading, Chaos by Appointment, Liza pinned the success of the show squarely on those on-air friends, “That longevity is all thanks to our marvellous listeners and their stories. We get the most messages of any show on the station (about 50 texts and emails per minute) so there’s a lot to wade through. “Basically, we’re after a good laugh. I’m enjoying our running thread about things dropping on people’s heads. There was an email the other week from a guy who had a squirrel fall out of a tree and land on his head. In the ensuing panic, a load of school kids pointed and laughed. Perfect.” As chaotic as the show may have seemed, leading many to suspect that Liza was either suffering from some kind of menopausal meltdown or had one or two glasses too many of “lady petrol” beforehand, it was a carefully constructed two hours – despite Liza always seeming surprised when the ice skating music played in – in which she wore her music knowledge lightly (though she was fastidious about the playlist, arriving at the studio early to check that the correct versions of all the songs were cued up) and was more likely to introduce an oldie with what would now be considered questionable lyrics with a cheery, “Listen to this idiot!” She was surely the only BBC presenter who could get away with something like that, and in the announcement of Liza’s departure, Helen Thomas, head of Radio 2 – on FM, DAB and on your smart trousers – said: “Every Saturday evening, Liza created a truly magical, fantastical world. She was beloved by everyone at the station and all her listeners, and the door at Radio 2 will always be open for her.” We can but wish... But as Liza skates off into the distance, wearing a gold lamé jumpsuit festooned with chaffinches, a silver-tipped feather boa and a Carmen Miranda fruit-and-nut hat made specially for the occasion, all that remains is to name her in six words or less: Shine on you crazy diamond. Check out more of our Audio coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Why Marty Supreme's unlikable characters are still a reason it deserves to win best picture at the 2026 Oscars
Timothée Chalamet and Josh Safdie's story of a table tennis player in 1950s New York is a rare and unforgettable high-wire act with people you would never want to know.
Surely destined to succeed at Los Angeles’ Dolby Theatre this year is Josh Safdie’s electric sports drama Marty Supreme. Yes, the “ping-pong movie” that became a talking point over New Year has rallied its way to nine Academy Award nominations, including best director for Josh Safdie and best actor for Timothée Chalamet, alongside a coveted best picture nod. Standing in its path are formidable contenders, from Ryan Coogler’s record-breaking horror Sinners and Chloé Zhao’s delicate adaptation Hamnet to Paul Thomas Anderson’s sprawling political epic One Battle after Another. Yet for all the richness of this year’s field, no film feels more deserving than Marty Supreme. Aside from being a gripping tale of the fine line between ambition and obsession, it is a high-wire act built almost entirely on people you would never want to know – and it somehow makes them unforgettable. Loosely inspired by table tennis champion Marty Reisman, Safdie’s first solo feature since his split from brother Benny centres on Marty Mauser (Chalamet), a cocky 1950s New York shoe salesman with two things in inexhaustible supply: ego and ambition. Marty is not a hero in any conventional sense. He is vain, selfish and exhausting. He mistakes self-belief for superiority and treats relationships like stepping stones. In less capable hands than those of Chalamet and Safdie, he would be intolerable. View Green Video on the source website Chalamet delivers a career-best performance, anchoring the film so completely that our grip on Marty never loosens, however far the character drifts from decency. The role demands charm, arrogance and vulnerability, and Chalamet navigates those shifts with astonishing control. For a three-time nominee who has already claimed the Golden Globe and Critics' Choice awards, this feels like the performance that could finally secure him Oscar gold. Equally, Safdie understands that cinema doesn’t need comfort to captivate. Marty’s unlikability isn’t a flaw; it’s the engine. Armed with a gift for the game and an even sharper gift of the gab, Marty flatters and manipulates his way to the international stage, aided by a slippery financier (Kevin O’Leary) and his faded Hollywood-star wife (Gwyneth Paltrow), both of whom are just as transactional and self-serving as he is. Together, they create a world where charm is currency and integrity negotiable – and Safdie turns that moral volatility into thrilling cinema. Even the supporting cast is shaded in moral grey. Marty’s girlfriend Rachel (Odessa A’Zion) initially appears to offer warmth and recognisable vulnerability, a woman bruised by the men in her orbit. Yet she too is entangled in lies and manipulation. His loyal friend Wally, played by a quietly brilliant Tyler Okonma (Tyler, the Creator), seems at first a grounding presence. But Safdie gradually reveals that he is cut from the same cloth, equally capable of deceit when it serves him. While One Battle and Sinners have clear villains in the form of neo-Nazis and vampires, the faults of Marty Supreme’s characters are realistically baked into their personalities, asking complex questions of the viewer about who they’re siding with. The nearest the film comes to innocence lies on its margins: Marty’s childhood friend Dion (Luke Manley) – the mastermind behind the orange ping pong ball that defined the film’s press campaign – and deaf table tennis player Koto Kawaguchi, whose impactful performance is the perfect antidote to Marty’s exhausting bravado. Yet while these figures offer fleeting notes of sincerity, it is the thornier characters who keep us hooked. In refusing to populate this world with saints, Safdie elevates the film above its peers. Beneath its propulsive surface, Marty Supreme is a satire dappled by melancholy. Where other nominees address ambition, family and rebellion more directly, Marty Supreme tackles something more knotty – the cultural worship of winning at any cost, asking whether the pursuit of greatness leaves room for connection, humility or love. It’s the shift in pace at the film’s close where these themes collide. Chalamet delivers a moving performance as the events of Marty’s life culminate in one defining moment. It reframes everything we’ve spent the previous two hours digesting, spitting it out with sobering clarity. Followed by a genius credits sequence, those final minutes secure the film’s place among the year’s very best. While One Battle triumphed at the BAFTAs, Chalamet is earning deserved acting recognition. His recent speeches – bold declarations about striving for greatness – have prompted murmurs that the line between actor and character may be blurring. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/01/GettyImages-2255799235-0a104cc.jpg" width="6000" height="4000" alt="Timothée Chalamet, winner of the Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy award for "Marty Supreme," poses in the press room during the 83rd annual Golden Globe Awards at The Beverly Hilton on January 11, 2026 in Beverly Hills, California" title="83rd Annual Golden Globe Awards - Press Room" /> Meanwhile, Safdie’s solo status has been scrutinised following his professional separation from his brother and long-time collaborator. For those waiting to see what he did next, Marty Supreme is proof of artistic identity and confidence for the 41-year-old. To build a film around an antihero is hardly new. To build one around a protagonist with so little instinctive warmth – and still have audiences rooting for him throughout – is rare. In honouring Marty Supreme, the Academy would be recognising a loud and proud piece of film-making that trusts viewers to embrace complexity over comfort. The film proves that greatness on screen does not require goodness at its centre. Marty’s marathon climb to stardom plays like a breathless sprint, powered by a set of richly complicated characters. It seduces us and holds our attention without asking us to approve of its players. That alchemy – turning unlikeable people into riveting cinema – is precisely why it deserves to win best picture. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
There’s a scene late in the 1991 movie Star Trek VI: the Undiscovered Country where old warhorses Kirk and Spock wonder whether they’ve outlived their own usefulness. The film itself is a Cold War allegory that sees the once-adversarial Klingons brokering for peace, a situation that leaves the Enterprise crewmates confronting a galaxy that may no longer need them. It’s a sobering moment in a story that serves as a swan song for the original team. But it’s also a question that echoes today, not just for Kirk but for Star Trek itself. The underwhelming performance of latest offshoot Starfleet Academy in early Nielsen ratings, and the fact that no new series is currently in production, suggest a once-dominant sci-fi brand is struggling to capture the public imagination. Streaming fragmentation muddies the numbers, but the cultural temperature feels far cooler than in previous eras. A show that once defined television science fiction now feels strangely peripheral. But this could be more than just franchise fatigue. It may be that Star Trek’s worldview is simply out of step with the political mood. Because historically, the franchise tends to flourish at one particular kind of time: moments when the United States feels confident about the future. Just consider when Star Trek has previously thrived. It arrived amid the optimism of JFK’s “reach for the stars” rhetoric. It soared again with The Next Generation during Reagan’s “Morning in America” resurgence of the late 1980s and the post-Cold War triumphalism of Clinton’s 1990s. In short, Star Trek chimes when America believes the future belongs to it. Contrast that with the periods when it’s struggled. In the 1970s, distrust of institutions runs high after the Watergate scandal – and Star Trek exists mostly in reruns until the films revive it. Once we hit the 2000s and George W Bush’s war on terror, Trek again stumbles with the lacklustre Enterprise, which is axed after four seasons. There’s a sense here that when the prevailing culture becomes anxious or cynical, the show’s utopian tone can feel naïve and irrelevant. The exception is '90s spin-off Deep Space Nine, the one show willing to test Star Trek’s ideals rather than just celebrate them. With later seasons set during a time of war, Captain Benjamin Sisko is seen questioning the extent to which the Federation ought to sacrifice its principles to survive. View Green Video on the source website There’s real moral ambiguity here, but with DS9 airing alongside the Next Generation and later Voyager, the optimistic core of Star Trek was being protected elsewhere. DS9 could push boundaries because it wasn’t the shop window. Today, there’s no such protective glass. All of which brings us to 2026 and Donald Trump’s more aggressive posture on the world stage. With opinion polarised and faith in governments waning, Starfleet’s assumptions – cooperation, decency, consensus – feel increasingly distant from political reality. It may sound churlish to point this out in the year when Star Trek is marking its 60th anniversary, but none of the recent series (Discovery, Picard, Strange New Worlds, Starfleet Academy) have left a deep cultural footprint. Might this be because the Federation looks suspiciously like a benevolent superpower extending its reach across the galaxy – liberal internationalism with warp drive? At a time when US influence is contested, that metaphor leaves us with a prickle of unease. There’s a paradox at the heart of this. Yes, Star Trek can feel like an imperialist project, but it’s also aspirational. It shows what humanity might become. But optimism works best when it feels attainable. In moments where we feel jaded and sceptical, a perfect future can feel less like hope and more like denial. And so, just as the original Enterprise crew realised it was time to hand over the future in the Undiscovered Country, Star Trek perhaps ought to come to the realisation that it needs a pause. The franchise has survived dormant periods before and then returned when the public was ready to believe in its values once more. Perhaps the most Trek thing the brand could do right now is wait patiently for the future to catch up with it again. Star Trek is available to watch on Paramount+. <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/video/offers/?benefitId=paramountplusgb&ref_=DVM_PDS_CHN_UK_mi_C_mkw_sNynrT7ZC-dc_pcrid_637893181401&mrntrk=slid__pgrid_143491579803_pgeo_9045946_x__adext__ptid_kwd-1210995054370&gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQiAs5i8BhDmARIsAGE4xHwTfGgy5aYKkYxNQV68UYUZhVWUr2bVS4o-EfnvpowOvplyXMbKqXAaArmvEALw_wcB&tag=radtim0b-21&ascsubtag=radiotimes-2191954" target="_blank" rel="noopener sponsored">Sign up to your seven-day Paramount+ free trial. Check out more of our Sci-Fi coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on tonight. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Why I'm still watching reruns of The Office while the world is on fire
When the headlines feel unbearable, is turning on a sitcom a cop-out or a way of keeping sane?
Add The Office US to your watchlist After spending a soul-rending hour the other evening watching the planet lurch towards catastrophe on BBC News, I did the only thing that seemed remotely survivable: I watched Michael Scott burn his foot on a George Foreman grill in The Office. Classic coping strategy. When the world darkens, reach for comedy. Except when I mentioned this in my own office the next day, a colleague pushed back. Wasn’t that the problem? Hadn’t we all spent too long hooked up to a drip feed of television? Wasn’t I just dosing myself with distraction while the house burned down? The instinct, he suggested, shouldn’t be to laugh at Steve Carell. It should be to go outside, hold a placard, and join a march. A sitcom might feel like a salve, but what if it’s also the reason we feel so politically sapped? He had a point. I was thinking I’d been sensibly managing my mood, when perhaps I’d simply been feeding a culture of diversion that leaves us passive. It reminded me of a book I read years ago by Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death, in which he argued that television turns the world into razzmatazz. When everything becomes entertainment, nothing carries any weight. Suddenly, my 25-minute visit to the Dunder Mifflin Paper Company felt less like harmless relief and more like complicity. I’d only wanted a break from a news cycle that amplifies dread with every airstrike. Instead, apparently, I was another strand in the web. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/03/GettyImages-138361947-7eca5e3.jpg" width="3000" height="2001" alt="Kate Flannery as Meredith Palmer, B.J. Novak as Ryan Howard, Leslie David Baker as Stanley Hudson, Mindy Kaling as Kelly Kapoor, Steve Carell as Michael Scott, Rainn Wilson as Dwight Schrute, Brian Baumgartner as Kevin Malone and Jenna Fischer as Pam Beesly in The Office, stood together outside." title="The Office" /> But then – one mug of tea and a few deep breaths later – perspective returned. When I switched away from the invective of Donald Trump and the bellicose rhetoric of Pete Hegseth, I hadn’t felt mobilised so much as overwhelmed. I wasn’t being called to action; I was being buried under it. And so, turning to a beloved American sitcom wasn’t an escape from reality so much as an attempt to stay capable of facing it. Which raises an uncomfortable question: what does it mean to stay informed? The modern answer seems simple. Keep the news on. Witness events in Iran as they unfold. Stay alert. But when the same burning buildings and breaking banners loop every 15 minutes, there comes a point when updates stop informing and start agitating. It’s like standing under a fire alarm and insisting that you’re learning something new from every blare. TV news, of course, wasn’t originally built like this. For most of its history, it arrived in rationed bulletins: the Six O’Clock News, the 10 O’Clock News, Newsnight for the insomniacs. Editors had time to take stock and decide what had actually happened and what merely sounded dramatic. Then the programme ended, and the evening resumed. Now, with images of destruction in the Middle East so constant, the effect is different. We feel survivor’s guilt from a distance. And watching comedy can start to feel shameful, as if a sitcom were a trivial response to real-life trauma. But in feeling this moral dissonance, we may be misunderstanding television’s role. Entertainment has always existed alongside tragedy. In the Second World War, ITMA thrived on the radio. During Covid, Strictly Come Dancing still filled Saturday nights. These shows weren’t acts of denial. They were psychological lifelines. Audiences weren’t indifferent to the crises around them; they simply needed somewhere to set their anxiety down for an hour or two. And this is where fiction does something the news rarely can. News stories break and spiral without ending. Sitcoms console. In The Office, problems arise, teeter towards disaster and tidy themselves before the end theme. The show also holds on to an unfashionable idea: that daftness and decency can live in the same person. Michael Scott may be misguided and petty, but he’s still worthy of compassion. In a public sphere that’s permanently raging, that small faith in human decency is refreshing. So, watching an episode needn’t be seen as abandoning the world, more a reminder of what’s worth protecting. Even so, taking refuge in stories doesn’t make me immune to my colleague’s critique. He’s right: comfort can slide very easily into distraction. We live in a culture engineered to keep us seated. Streaming platforms are so determined to prevent contact with the standby button that whole days can vanish courtesy of autoplay. Still, television doesn’t have to anaesthetise you. Deciding what to watch – and, crucially, when to stop – can transform zombie viewing into something closer to a deliberate choice. Ignoring the “Continue Watching” prompt may be a modest act of defiance, but it is a conscious one. Not quite storming the streets with a placard, perhaps. But civic virtue comes in many flavours. Nor does life require a stark choice between rising up and checking out. Yes, demonstrating matters. But participation doesn’t only happen in the streets. It also lives in the charities you support, the journalism you fund, the communities you show up for, the children you raise, and even the words you put into the world. And if all that is to be sustained, it requires something less dramatic but just as vital: rest. Outrage can be energising, but sustained indefinitely, it risks becoming knackering. And no one can live entirely at top volume. Which raises a quieter possibility: that an evening spent watching a situation comedy is not civic failure, but an emotional MOT. Rest is, after all, being increasingly framed as a small act of resistance – a way of giving the knockback to a culture of ceaseless urgency. So perhaps the real worry isn’t that we might reach for The Office in times of strife. It’s that we might do nothing else. Watching Michael Scott and his toasted toes isn’t the problem. The problem would be letting it be the only response. In the meantime, though, something is life-affirming about watching a world in which the worst disaster is an inept middle-manager grilling his foot for breakfast instead of bacon. Spending 25 minutes in Scranton won’t fix the planet, but it may just leave us fortified enough to confront it again after the credits roll.
Rachel Weisz's Vladimir makes an unforgivable yet common mistake – it cheats the audience
Netflix needs to learn not to make promises it can't – or won't – keep.
*Warning - contains spoilers for all eight episodes of Vladimir.* Add it to your watchlist At the end of last year, I spoke with the writer Dennis Kelly, known for his series such as Utopia and Pulling. He was promoting his phenomenal BBC drama, Waiting for the Out, when he made the following comment: "My bugbear at the moment is that we are currently mistaking adrenaline for drama. We currently think that adrenaline and drama are the same thing and they f**king are not. "The amount of times you see one of these Netflix-type things – look, I've done this as well, so I'm not slagging it off too much – but someone wakes up and they're in a crime scene or something, and then you flash back, and it's like, what you're saying to the audience is, 'This is boring, right? But don't worry, you're going to see someone die.' You just think, 'F**king hell, that's so lame.'" It's important to note, Kelly wasn't speaking about any one drama or Netflix series in particular. He certainly wasn't speaking about Vladimir, which wouldn't be released for a number of months after we spoke. However, to my mind, he may as well have been. Vladimir, starring Rachel Weisz and Leo Woodall, is a new Netflix erotic thriller based on the novel of the same name, which kicks off with a fascinating sequence. Weisz's character, an unnamed professor, speaks with the audience throughout, and that aspect of the series is present from the off. In the first scene, Weisz's character is seen writing in a cabin. She reveals to us that her students find her out of touch, her daughter finds her "entire personhood useless", and that she worries she "may not be the cause of a spontaneous erection ever again". She then walks through the cabin and we see that sat there, tied to a chair, is Woodall's title character, Vladimir. This is where we first meet him – unconscious, with chains around his waist and his trousers off. Weisz walks out of the cabin as Vladimir wakes and reacts in horror to his situation. "What the f**k?!", he yells in terror as the title card comes up. We then flash back for the rest of the series, to the point at which Weisz's character meets Vladimir, and the story progresses. Throughout the series, we watch as Weisz's professor becomes more and more enamoured – even obsessed – with Vladimir, as she also reckons with her husband John's misdemeanours. A fellow professor, he has been sleeping with his students, in a situation the entire campus is horrified by, but which she thinks is overblown, understanding them to all have been consensual encounters. Throughout, I found my own opinion of the series shifting – at first, it seemed as though the series wasn't wrestling with its knotty subject matter intently enough, but these conversations did emerge in later episodes. The encounters between Weisz's character and Vladimir were excruciating, but often in a genuinely funny way. The performances were largely impressive, particularly from Weisz, who in many ways carried the series on her back. The bits to camera, and moments at which we found we were watching the character's fantasies rather than reality, felt overused and then underused. At one point, I began to wonder whether a more substantial rug-pull was on the way, and we would find out Vladimir's interest in the central character was imagined, but this never materialised. I was conflicted, but all the while waiting to see how – and crucially, why – we would get to the state we found the characters in at the start, with Weisz's character having seemingly tied up an unconscious Vladimir. No matter how intense the character's obsession got with her co-worker, it still felt like a stretch to have the character go so far off the deep end that she would kidnap and abuse him. Then, at the end of episode 7, the moment came. As the pair drank together at her cabin, while John was at his disciplinary hearing, Weisz's character told us that she didn't want Vladimir to go. To keep him there, as she plied him with more alcohol, she also drugged his drink. Once he was knocked out, she sent a text from his phone to his wife, Cynthia, telling her that he knew she was having an affair with John (she wasn't, but that's a whole other issue) and not to contact him. She also chained him to a chair, zip-tied one of his arms to it and sat on the floor, stroking his legs. He had no trousers on because he had been in the swimming pool. She then lay on the sofa with a book and waited for him to wake. He did so at the end of the episode, confused, disorientated and horrified. It was set up for a final episode where all bets were off. I genuinely had no idea where things were going or how this would be resolved. In the end, it turns out, I shouldn't have bothered wondering – the series had no interest in exploring this ridiculous heightening of the stakes in any meaningful way. Immediately in episode 8, the air was let out of the tyre. Within the first two minutes of the episode, Weisz's character 'explained' that they had been drunk, he had said he wanted to be dominated, she passed out and the whole thing was just a "huge misunderstanding". She then untied him and confirmed they hadn't had sex. The episode then pivoted to exploring the repercussions of the text she sent to Cynthia, and of subsequently telling Vladimir about the affair between her and John. Notably, this was the only bit of information that was not teed up for us about that sequence in the opening episode. From there on, the underwhelming finale played out, but in many ways, no matter how engrossing it might have been, I would still have been left with a sour taste in my mouth. The opening episode set something crucial up with its fast-forward. Some may think it's clever and thematically resonant for Weisz's character to have teased us in this way with something that would ultimately be inconsequential, but for a viewer it's maddening. Why establish something so dramatically at odds with where the series started, and an intense raising of the stakes, only to immediately have it hand-waved away within two minutes of the event occurring. It feels like a cheat, like Netflix and the team behind the show wanted to suggest, as Kelly said, that something more exciting was coming down the track. At least in some of the circumstances Kelly was referencing that promise is delivered on. Here, it actively wasn't. Viewers waiting a full eight episodes to find out how that moment would play out, why Weisz was doing what she was doing, what she was planning and how Vladimir would react to it, only for it to be deemed inconsequential, just a silly moment which was easily breezed past. Really, there were two options here. If the series was never going to get to the sort of stakes suggested by chains and zipties, then don't introduce them. To do otherwise is to lie to your audience. Alternatively, if it is, then grapple with that fact and deal with the repercussions properly. Take viewers to a darker place, where Weisz's character truly does go off the deep end and becomes dangerous in the process. By treading some middle road, where you get all the shock and awe of the moment in a neat visual to sell up top, but can't be bothered to deal with the aftermath, the series cheapens itself and makes the viewer feel betrayed in the process. Vladimir isn't the first show to do this – as Kelly said ahead of time, it's a trope you can see in plenty of other shows. It also shouldn't be judged solely on one mistake. There are certainly elements and sequences to enjoy here, with a knotty, intriguing exploration of morality and sexual politics at its centre, and an A-grade performance from Weisz. However, the mistake itself is so brazen, so blatant in its attempt to sell something it never intended to provide, that it does feel fairly unforgivable, and one future series should pay heed to avoid.
Reminders of Him review: A heartfelt but ordinary addition to the Colleen Hoover canon
A largely run-of-the-mill romantic drama – but not without its charms.
Colleen Hoover’s third book adaptation probably isn't anything that we weren’t expecting. Directed by Vanessa Caswill, Reminders of Him has all the everyday, hallmark features of the constantly expanding Hooververse – a great cast, a light tug on the heartstrings and enough cheesiness to clog the arteries. Reminders of Him puts the usually blood-soaked Maika Monroe in a role far removed from the laboured-breathing, scream queen territory she’s usually found. This time around, she plays Kenna Rowan, a young woman who has recently been released from prison following an unthinkable, tragic mistake involving her boyfriend Scotty (Rudy Pankow). She returns to town hoping for a chance at redemption and, most importantly, to be reunited with the daughter she barely knows. Though Hoover has previously mentioned she deliberately set the story in an ambiguous location – if the guitar strumming, country-infused soundtrack is anything to go by, we appear to be in a small town somewhere in a southern state. And if that didn’t quite make it clear, there’s also a debut film role for Grammy award-winning country artist and Yellowstone alum Lainey Wilson, who pops up in a handful of welcome scenes as Kenna’s friend Amy to remind us Kenna may in fact have a Heart Like a Truck. The film’s cast is perhaps its greatest saving grace. Monroe is, expectedly, a natural fit for Kenna. With so much tragedy in Kenna’s past, Monroe draws on her horror pedigree to weave threads of tension and sympathy into a performance that without her would likely not have commanded quite as much attention. Monroe has long had a knack for stealing the screen, and here she manages to elevate the occasional early noughties, straight-to-DVD energy of the film with some natural charisma. Meanwhile, Withers offers a spin of the ‘rough-around-the-edges-but-still-a-nice-guy’ archetype in the form of Ledger, the bar owner Kenna finds herself involved with. Previously best known for his leading role in Justin Tipping’s Him (2025), Withers finds some comfortable footing here as a potential future heartthrob. He quickly builds some convincing chemistry with Monroe, such that you are entertained throughout by the prospect of their sometimes nonsensical, half-forbidden love story. Gilmore Girls’ beloved Lauren Graham and the Emmy award-winning Bradley Whitford are also convincing in their supporting roles, as well as Zoe Kosovic as Diem – who steers clear of many of the familiar child actor clichés and comes off as relatively heartwarming in her scenes. There’s enough decency in the cast to strengthen what would otherwise be a fairly basic script – occasionally awkward dialogue and all. The story itself is also engaging enough. An emotional tale of a mother wanting to reunite with her child is almost always going to carry the potential to be at least a little impactful. Reminders of Him never escapes being predictable, yet somehow manages to spark curiosity in its audience – a desire to see the final moments play out; to learn how and when Kenna might be reunited with the daughter she obviously deserves to be with. Visually, the film is also simplistic but pleasant, offering some cozy, southern state, golden hour sunsets and warm colouring – as well as (as Monroe put it) a ‘great orange truck’. It’s nothing wildly adventurous, but it slots itself decently within the wider atmosphere of the film. View Green Video on the source website Reminders of Him also sticks closely to its source material. While there are some tweaks in how the relationship between Kenna and Ledger unfolds – changes that sometimes act in the film’s detriment – it also manages to successfully sidestep certain, more eye-roll moments of the book (such as the slightly silly explanation for the name of Kenna’s daughter, Diem). For better or for worse, fans of the original novel are bound to be pleased with the film's recreation. Reminders of Him isn’t about to reinvent the romantic drama wheel – won't even spin it, in fact – and will find its most enthusiastic audience among self-titled-era Swifties rather than die-hard cinephiles. What it does offer, though, is 114 minutes of saccharine, guilty pleasure – a film that manages to well balance some stereotypical fluff with a sweet little tale of family, forgiveness and love. It’s inoffensive, tear-jerking, easy watching that, just like the rest the CoHo canon, will probably do just fine at the box office. Reminders of Him will be released in cinemas on Friday 13 March 2026. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
To be or not to be? There's no question the 'emotionally manipulative' Hamnet deserves to win the 2026 Oscar for best picture
The tragic tale of William Shakespeare's family life is well deserving of its flowers.
To be or not to be? It probably shouldn’t be a question. Somehow, for many pundits and critics, Chloé Zhao’s adaptation of Maggie O’Farrell’s acclaimed historical fiction novel Hamnet has become something of a villain this Oscars season. It’s a bizarre take when the tragedy has so much to offer. The film tackles a lesser-known element of William Shakespeare’s life: the loss of his son Hamnet. Like O’Farrell’s novel, though, this text primarily centres its experience on Shakespeare’s wife and Hamnet’s mother, here named Agnes. Portrayed with ferocity and heartbreaking nuance by Irish triple-threat Jessie Buckley, Agnes is a spiritual, earthy and misunderstood figure — one who draws the attention of Shakespeare in his youth (a moving Paul Mescal) and before his success as a playwright in London. Primarily set in the pastoral setting of Stratford-Upon-Avon, we see how the Shakespeare clan grows in size following Agnes and Shakespeare’s wedding, with the pair welcoming three children and living an idyllic life as William's career in London begins to take off. View Green Video on the source website However, the true crux of the drama occurs when a malady claims the life of their son Hamnet (the wonderful young talent Jacobi Jupe) and sets them on diverging paths… until Shakespeare’s works come to the rescue. A moving examination of grief and the power of art, Hamnet has signalled another vote of confidence in Zhao from the film industry, after the plaudits and gongs won for her much-celebrated film Nomadland. The prospect of a female and non-white Oscar-winner gaining recognition from the Academy so close to her previous wins should be welcomed – as although ceilings can be shattered, in the film industry they can always quickly grow back, leaving a long wait until the next slice of the pie. Separately, success for Hamnet would be just recognition for one of our finest acting talents in Jessie Buckley, who continues to give emotionally true performances in a singular range of roles. It is highly likely — at least at this stage — that Buckley will take home the award for best actress, but her performance is not the sole selling point of this touching and ethereal cinematic experience. A costume drama – linked to Shakespeare no less – would not be a groundbreaking best picture win as such, but Hamnet being so grounded in the female experience in plot, style, performance and creation makes it a pivotal competitor this year. Equally, the absence of Mescal, the ever-brilliant Emily Watson and Jacobi Jupe in their respective categories feels a crying shame, meaning Hamnet is only able to compete on limited fronts. Snobbery or a lack of recognition towards "women's films" is nothing new in the industry or in film criticism, of course, but it feels very strange here when one considers the pedigree of the talent on show. There have been complaints about Hamnet being stereotypical "Oscar bait", but the chief issue many have had has been around claims that Zhao's film is "emotionally manipulative". The final act, in particular, swells with pure emotion as Agnes attends a performance of her husband’s play Hamlet, thanks to the touching work of Buckley, Mescal, and both Jacobi and Noah Jupe. The score from Max Richter — which includes his recognisable track On the Nature of Daylight — only further crystallises the sheer emotion of the scene. Some have argued that the film does not earn this sentimentality and outpouring of emotion – and I have had to ask them what film they have been watching. How can a film moving crowds of moviegoers to tears be manipulative, especially when using the sheer emotion evoked from Shakespeare's own work? Good cinema is designed to play with our emotions. It endeavours to capture shades of the human experience that are hard to put into words. It reaches out to a pained soul in the audience – just as Shakespeare’s own work did. To be or not to be? Here, there’s no question, Hamnet is well deserving of its flowers. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Watching I Kissed a Boy changed my life and its axing alongside I Kissed a Girl sets an ugly precedent
It proved that queer TV isn’t just important representation - we also make brilliant TV.
After more than a decade of calling out for more LGBTQ+ representation on Love Island, I Kissed A Boy came along and delivered more than anyone could have anticipated: a queer dating show that felt joyful and genuinely transformative. Hosted by Dannii Minogue, a woman who has proven herself to be one of the staunchest allies imaginable, I Kissed A Boy and I Kissed A Girl were not just game-changing moments in queer television. Even after more than 30 years of living as a gay man, I learned more about my community from one show than I had in my entire lifetime. The axe falling on I Kissed A Boy and I Kissed A Girl sets an ugly precedent: that queer reality television doesn't matter. It says that it doesn't work and that, despite such an overwhelmingly positive response from both queer and straight viewers, there is no space for LGBTQ+ reality television. "We are exceptionally proud of I Kissed a Boy/Girl, the UK's first dating show for the LGBTQ+ community," a spokesperson for the BBC announced. "We would like to thank our fabulous Cupid Dannii Minogue and the entire team at Twofour for bringing the series to screen. Unfortunately, we have to make difficult choices in light of our funding challenges and there are no current plans for the show to return." But even more important than ratings or changing the landscape of queer representation, I Kissed A Boy and I Kissed A Girl have been fundamental in making me feel like I belong. I saw so much of myself in some of the contestants when I had always thought the insecurities I felt were unique to me. In series two, when Adam put himself down and pushed Reuben away before he could be rejected, I recognised that instinct immediately. It’s a pattern so many queer people know: rejecting yourself before someone else can. Even better, Adam’s confidence began to flourish during his time in the Hacienda, he showed a self-love I could have only dreamed of at his age in the same position. Watching the importance of gay friendships play out on screen was incredibly powerful for me. It gave me the push I needed to actively seek out new gay friendships when I’d otherwise been coasting along in my straight circles, always struggling to find my place in the gay community. But there was a place waiting for me - I just had to make the effort to find it. I’ve since done just that and have never been happier. The I Kissed A Boy cast have done more to rid me of my shame, stop comparing myself to other gay men, and help me appreciate the qualities I already have than any therapy could. It showed me that all the parts of my queerness I once deemed unattractive in myself were, when I saw them in others, actually special - and deeply loved by the people around them. When it comes to my queerness, until my 30s I had lived such a sheltered life. I was carrying so much internalised homophobia - far heavier than I ever realised - until I finally let it go. Watching I Kissed A Boy and I Kissed A Girl made me see just how many years I'd lost: years I could have spent building queer friendships, embracing every part of my identity, and finding the kind of nourishment that only other queer people can provide. The cancellation of both shows isn't just the end of two of the best dating formats on television; it risks closing the door on stories that help queer viewers truly understand themselves - sometimes for the first time. Granted, I appreciate the BBC isn't in a position to fork out substantial sums of money just to give me free therapy. It is, however, a public service broadcaster that I pay a hefty fee to every year. And with the exception of I Kissed A Boy and RuPaul’s Drag Race UK - both still out of reach of the BBC’s two main channels - I see very little broadcasting that actually feels like it’s for me or my community. Perhaps my personal connection to I Kissed A Boy isn’t worth investing in. I would accept that if my relationship with both I Kissed A Boy and I Kissed A Girl were unique - but this is so far from the truth. The gay community has collectively never experienced such a unifying moment in dating television. Drag Race has been life-changing TV too - the world quite literally looks, sounds and feels different because of the impact of RuPaul’s international enterprise. But nothing has explored gay dating quite like this: gay relationships, rejection, the perils of confronting queer trauma, and finding your tribe to overcome it. Television is drowning in dating shows for straight people and there seems to be absolutely no sign of pulling the brakes on commissioning unoriginal new formats that do little to reinvent the wheel. Love Island still shows no sign of introducing more LGBTQ+ contestants, citing "logistical difficulties", when it could so easily introduce more bisexual contestants. It worked when Sophie Gradon and Katie Salmon pulled the rug from under producers to become the show's first same-sex pairing. For a format that now feels exhausted, bringing more queerness into the mix might finally make it relevant again. The chances of that happening have always been slim but with the premature cancellation of I Kissed A Boy and Girl, they now feel slimmer than ever. I Kissed A Boy and Girl were proof that the BBC was willing to take a gamble on us - crafting a show that wasn’t just a box-ticking exercise but something meticulously designed to authentically show what it means to be gay and what it means to find love as an LGBTQ+ person. It was a show clearly made for the queer community that ended up being loved by so many more. If there’s any justice - or sense - a rival channel will snap up the I Kissed A franchise. As queer people, we are always learning and evolving, and I Kissed A Boy and I Kissed A Girl, at least for me, were such an important part of that process. But ultimately, what matters most is this: it was simply fantastic television. And it proved that queer TV isn’t just important representation - we also make brilliant TV. A final season of I Kissed a Girl will air on BBC Three this summer. Previous seasons of I Kissed a Boy and I Kissed a Girl are available to watch on BBC iPlayer. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.