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Angelina Jolie leads the new fashion‑driven drama Couture, bringing a rare level of personal honesty by confronting a storyline that mirrors her own double mastectomy performed to prevent breast cancer. While her performance is undeniably courageous, the film’s overall execution falls short of its ambitions.The plot follows Maxine, an American indie filmmaker (Jolie) who arrives in Paris to direct the opening short for a prestigious runway show. She discovers, through a compassionate doctor played by Vincent Lindon, that a recent biopsy confirms she has breast cancer, forcing her to consider postponing or abandoning her next project. Jolie conveys the shock and denial with subtlety, yet the script, penned by director Alice Winocour, often lapses into glib dialogue that undermines the emotional weight of the situation.Supporting characters include Ada, a fledgling South Sudanese model (Anyier Anei), makeup‑artist‑turned‑writer Angèle (Ella Rumpf), and the brooding first‑assistant director Anton (Louis Garrel). Their subplots—most notably Ada’s ankle injury that threatens the runway performance—remain underdeveloped, serving more as decorative set‑pieces than integral narrative threads.Visually, the film captures the glamour of Parisian haute couture with polished cinematography, yet this sheen accentuates the story’s lack of depth. The fashion world is presented with a “precious” aesthetic that feels specious, offering little insight beyond surface‑level allure.Despite these shortcomings, Jolie’s star power shines through. Her willingness to align a fictional role with a deeply personal health battle adds a layer of authenticity that the surrounding screenplay fails to sustain. ‘Couture’ will be available on digital platforms from 20 April, offering audiences a chance to appreciate Jolie’s performance even if the film’s broader ambitions remain unfulfilled.

The Plague, directed by Charlie Polinger, is a gripping debut feature that plunges into the psychological depths of a boy's water polo training camp in the summer of 2003. The film impressively captures the brutal hierarchy driven by braggadocio, bullying, hazing, and gaslighting among the young campers.The story follows Ben, a latecomer to the camp, played by Everett Blunck, who desperately tries to ingratiate himself with the cool crowd led by the impish Jake, played by Kayo Martin. Ben aims to avoid the pariah status of Eli, played by Kenny Rasmussen, who is supposedly afflicted with a made-up disease dubbed 'the plague' by the group.The film's stylistic bite is reminiscent of David Fincher's work, with a stunning initial submerged shot of a pool glittering like a starfield. Polinger also showcases a keen ear for the nonsense conversations among the 12-year-old campers, discussing topics such as 90s rock outfit Smash Mouth and the ethics of bestiality.While the film flirts with body horror, it never quite resolves its suggestion that the plague could be psychosomatic. Despite this, the young performers stand out in their unfiltered rawness, particularly Blunck, Martin, and Rasmussen. The film is a memorable education in the laws of the tween jungle, with Joel Edgerton providing a reassuring presence as Coach Daddy Wags.The Plague is set to be released on digital platforms from April 20, 2026.

Big Mood returns for a second season on Channel 4, aiming to blend a serious look at bipolar disorder with broad‑scale comedy. Lead actress Nicola Coughlan reprises Maggie, now emerging from a harrowing episode of lithium poisoning that left her hallucinating and confused. The debut series introduced Maggie in the throes of a manic episode, followed by a depressive crash after she stopped her medication to protect her creative output. While the first season earned praise for its insightful depiction of mental illness, the new installment quickly pivots toward slapstick scenarios – from a militant maid of honour to a secret‑husband extortion plot – that dilute the original emotional weight. Central to the drama is Maggie’s strained bond with best friend Eddie, played by Lydia West. Their friendship, already intense in season one, becomes increasingly implausible as Eddie abandons London for California without explanation. In season two, Eddie resurfaces under the control of a dubious wellness guru named Whitney, who has siphoned her finances and seeks to erase any lingering connection with Maggie. Rather than deepening the exploration of mental health, the series now focuses on a far‑cical showdown between the two women. Maggie, now in a “stable girl” routine of retinol and Hello Fresh meals, obsessively attempts to expose Whitney as a fraud, enlisting Eddie’s friend Will – a character described as “incorrigibly nice” yet treated with contempt by both protagonists. The tonal shift raises questions about the show’s core ambition. While Coughlan delivers an empathetic performance that captures Maggie’s inner turmoil, the surrounding plotlines feel disjointed and at times toxic, especially in the portrayal of the once‑intoxicating platonic romance that now appears more destructive than supportive. Humor, inherently subjective, may still resonate with viewers who appreciate the series’ millennial‑centric chaos. However, the blend of “knockabout farce” with moments of genuine drama feels uneven, suggesting that the show’s initial promise of a heartfelt, realistic bipolar narrative has been eclipsed by over‑reaching comedic contrivances. In conclusion, Big Mood season two struggles to reconcile its dual aims. The ambitious premise that once offered a nuanced look at mental illness now feels buried beneath a barrage of gimmicks, leaving audiences to wonder whether it’s time for the characters – and perhaps the series itself – to move on.

Aaron Pierre delivers a storming, almost hypnotic performance as Randle P. McMurphy, instantly igniting the stale atmosphere of a 1960s American psychiatric ward. His swagger‑filled stride and sudden, childlike scampers create a compelling contrast that keeps the audience on edge.From the opening moments, McMurphy clashes with the authoritarian Nurse Ratched (Olivia Williams), provoking the other patients to rebel, play, and celebrate life beyond the ward’s walls. Pierre’s physicality—alternating between boisterous hugs and a frantic, vulnerable laugh—captures the character’s chaotic charisma.Director Clint Dyer, fresh from his acclaimed 2022 Othello, reshapes the narrative by casting the inmates almost entirely with Black actors. This choice injects a fresh political dimension, turning the patients into “pawns in a system designed to disempower.” Each time Ratched addresses them as “boys,” the line feels like an implicit sneer.While the script does not overtly discuss race—apart from Chief Bromden’s (Arthur Boan) Indigenous background—the production foregrounds the systemic misogyny embedded in both the novel and the 1963 Dale Wasserman adaptation. McMurphy’s mantra, “I fight and fuck,” teeters between liberated individualism and a problematic reclamation of alpha‑male tropes.Olivia Williams, who stepped into the role of Nurse Ratched late in rehearsals, gives the character a “ramrod spine and starched smile.” Her performance underscores the unchecked cruelty of a regime where the doctor (Matthew Steer) is a peripheral, snickering figure, leaving Ratched’s authority unchecked and increasingly vicious.Ken Kesey’s own experience as a government‑run LSD guinea‑pig informs the play’s visceral critique of psychiatry. The production’s lighting, designed by Chris Davey, erupts in scarlet and blue hues that echo the anti‑psychiatry movement of the 1960s, while the depiction of medication, group therapy, and electroconvulsive therapy feels deliberately brutal.Staged in the round at the Old Vic, the audience becomes a “ring of often appalled observers.” Ben Stone’s set design, with its white and pond‑green tiles beneath a soaring ceiling, creates a claustrophobic floor that simultaneously aspires upward—mirroring the characters’ yearning for freedom.The ensemble, led by Giles Terera’s refined Dale Harding, adds subtle layers of tension through nuanced tics and gestures. Dyer bookends the show with a reference to Congo Square in New Orleans, a historic site of Black and Indigenous resistance, framing the play’s cruelty through a lens of cultural resilience—though the production remains largely filtered through a male gaze.The production runs at the Old Vic until 23 May 2026, offering London audiences a bold, politically charged reinterpretation of a classic American drama.

The United States is grappling with unprecedented levels of income and wealth inequality. The average household income in New York City stands at $131,000, yet this figure belies the stark reality that a small elite captures a disproportionate amount of wealth, leaving millions struggling to make ends meet. This extreme inequality has far-reaching economic, political, and social consequences, eroding trust in institutions and leading people to believe that the system is rigged. The issue is not unique to the U.S., as nearly one-fifth of the world's super-rich live in New York, but it is more pronounced in the U.S. than in almost any other advanced economy. A recent global inequality report found that between 2000 and 2024, the richest 1% captured 41% of all new wealth, while the bottom half of humanity received just 1%. The concentration of wealth is staggering, with billionaires now owning 16% of global GDP, up from 3% in 1987. The main driver of this trend is the failure to effectively tax the super-rich. Research has shown that in the 1960s, the 400 richest Americans paid about 50% of their income in taxes, but today they pay around 24%. This pattern is not unique to the U.S., as similar trends have been observed in Europe and other countries. Experts argue that a progressive tax system is necessary to address this issue. A minimum tax of 2% on the wealth of the super-rich has been proposed as a straightforward way to ensure they meet their obligations to society. Several countries, including Spain and Brazil, have committed to implementing this tax, and other nations are considering similar measures. In the U.S., there are signs of a paradigm shift. California voters will consider a tax on billionaire wealth this November, and Washington state has approved a 9.9% income tax on million-dollar incomes. In New York, there are calls to increase taxes on the rich and large corporations to fund essential public services. The authors of the article, Joseph E. Stiglitz, Zohran Mamdani, and Gabriel Zucman, emphasize that the idea of billionaires paying higher tax rates than working people is not radical, but rather a necessary step towards restoring a basic social principle: that those with the most should contribute their fair share so that everyone can live with dignity.

The Fallen by Louise Brangan offers a meticulously researched portrait of the Magdalene laundries, the most notorious component of Ireland’s 20th‑century network of correctional institutions. The review notes that, at their peak in 1951, the country held 70 women per 100,000 in these laundries compared with 27 men per 100,000 in prisons, underscoring the laundries as the primary carceral system for females. Although established under state authority, the facilities were operated by Catholic nuns. Girls as young as nine and women into their eighties were compelled to work six days a week, without wages, on arduous, often hand‑operated machinery. Discipline was severe, and any minor infraction could trigger harsh punishment. The book illustrates how women were funneled into the system with little justification. Brangan recounts the case of a 15‑year‑old named Eileen, who vanished in February 1954 after being approached by members of the Legion of Mary—a lay group tasked with policing Ireland’s moral standards. She was taken to a gated house marked “Saint Mary Magdalen’s Asylum,” stripped of her identity, and assigned the number “60.” The narrative emphasizes that many detainees were simply “wayward or unwanted”—homeless, abused, or otherwise marginalized—rather than having committed any serious crime. Brangan draws a stark parallel between the Catholic Church’s grip on Irish society and the Communist Party’s control in Eastern Europe before 1989, suggesting both operated as pervasive, authoritarian forces. The laundries, though conspicuously situated among ordinary businesses, were largely ignored by a public that chose not to confront the “tall, locked iron gates” and the suffering behind them. The review situates the laundries within a broader context of institutional abuse, referencing the mother‑and‑baby homes that saw an estimated 56,000 women and girls pass through, with roughly 57,000 babies born, most notably at the Bon Secours home in Tuam. Investigations by Catherine Corless uncovered a mass grave of nearly 800 infants, highlighting the systemic nature of the tragedy. Financial redress has been slow. To date, the Irish government has disbursed more than €33 million to survivors of the laundries, while most religious orders have refused to contribute. A survivor’s testimony, quoted by Brangan, captures the lingering impact: “There’s always something in my life that will remind me of my past… I’ll never heal.” The review concludes by noting that the book, published by Bodley Head at £22, serves both as a harrowing testament and a call to remember a dark chapter of Irish history that continues to shape the lives of those who endured it.

Chala Chala Nav Bala (Maze Baal, 1943) marks the debut of Asha Bhosle, who entered the film world at ten years old. Paired with her sister Lata Mangeshkar, her bright falsetto captures the youthful innocence of the Marathi romance, foreshadowing the emotive style that would define her career. Aaiye Meherbaan (Howrah Bridge, 1958) showcases Bhosle’s rise during Hindi cinema’s golden age, thanks to her partnership with composer O.P. Nayyar. The song’s sultry vibrato and lush orchestration set the tone for the film’s noir atmosphere, establishing her as a leading‑lady playback voice. Aao Huzoor Tumko (Kismat, 1968) became a chart‑topping hit, featuring intricate vocal runs over a flamenco‑style guitar. Bhosle’s lower‑register chorus broke the conventional shrillness of female playback, while her nuanced phrasing added depth to the on‑screen heroine’s drunken allure. Dum Maro Dum (Hare Rama, Hare Krishna, 1971) stands out as her most successful crossover, later sampled by Western rappers. The track, produced with R.D. Burman—her future husband—blends psychedelic Beatles‑inspired grooves with Hindi lyrics, demonstrating her ability to bridge Eastern and Western pop sensibilities. Piya Tu Ab To Aaja (Caravan, 1971) pushes the fusion further into jazz‑cabaret territory, with bold horn sections and cinematic guitar reverb. Bhosle’s breathy, suggestive delivery sparked controversy, yet the performance remains a masterclass in balancing sensuality with technical agility. Chura Liya Hai Tumne Jo Dil Ko (Yaadon Ki Baaraat, 1973) epitomises the “masala” film soundtrack, merging drama, romance, and crime. Over a gentle guitar backdrop, Bhosle’s tender humming conveys quiet longing, contrasting with the film’s high‑octane narrative. In Ankhon Ki Masti (Umrao Jaan, 1981) sees Bhoske venture into Urdu ghazals with composer Khayyam. Her lower, huskier timbre—adjusted a half‑step down—highlights her continued artistic experimentation even as she approached fifty. Bow Down Mister (1991) illustrates her early 1990s foray into international collaborations, lending wordless, soaring vocals to Boy George’s post‑Culture Club project. The track transforms into a rave‑infused anthem, underscoring Bhosle’s versatility across genres. Radha Kaise Na Jale (Lagaan, 2001) pairs Bhosle with a young A.R. Rahman, reaffirming her status as an elder stateswoman of Indian music. The duet with Udit Narayan blends tabla and flute with powerful vocal runs, marrying traditional Hindustani scales to contemporary film scoring. The Way You Dream (2002) features an unexpected partnership with REM frontman Michael Stipe on the 1 Giant Leap project. The eight‑minute piece weaves tabla rhythms, subtle guitar, and a dramatic breakbeat, proving that Bhosle’s voice can seamlessly inhabit New Age and electronic soundscapes.

Intense rainfall has caused severe flooding in multiple provinces of Saudi Arabia, leading officials to temporarily close schools to ensure student safety. Video footage circulating online captures inundated streets, submerged vehicles, and classrooms rendered unusable by rising waters.Education authorities cited the need to protect children from hazardous conditions, noting that the closures affect thousands of students and may disrupt the academic calendar. The Ministry of Education is coordinating with local municipalities to assess damage and plan for a swift reopening once floodwaters recede.While the immediate priority remains public safety, the event underscores the growing vulnerability of infrastructure to extreme weather events in the region, prompting calls for improved flood‑risk management and resilient school facilities.

The light‑heavyweight division entered a new chapter on Saturday night in Miami when Carlos Ulberg secured the vacant UFC title by delivering a decisive left hook to former champion Jiri Prochazka. President Donald Trump watched from the cageside as Ulberg’s strike landed at the 3:45 mark of the opening round, ending the bout with a knockout and awarding him the undisputed belt. Ulberg entered the fight with a professional record of 14‑1 in MMA (10‑1 in the UFC), while Prochazka held a 32‑6‑1 MMA record (6‑3 in the UFC). Early in the first round Ulberg felt a knee give way, yet he persisted, capitalising on Prochazka’s hesitation to land the winning blow. “I blew out my knee, but I never counted myself out,” Ulberg said afterward. “I knew I needed one clean shot, and when I saw Jiri pulling back, I threw my left hand and it landed.” Prochazka, who has gone 1‑3 in UFC title fights since June 2022, reflected on the loss: “I felt sorry for him, and this is one of the biggest lessons in my life. The fight was in my hands, I saw his injury, and I’ll be back.” The championship was vacant after former champion Alex Pereira vacated the belt to pursue an interim heavyweight title at UFC Freedom 250, a bout scheduled for the White House on Donald Trump’s 80th birthday. Trump promoted the event on his Truth Social account and arrived at the Kaseya Center accompanied by UFC president Dana White, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, and U.S. ambassador to India Sergio Gor. A Kid Rock track blared as Trump took his seat beside the officials. In the co‑main event, Azamat Murzakanov knocked out Paulo Costa with a right round‑house at 1:23 of the third round, extending his perfect UFC record to 17‑0‑0. After his victory, Murzakanov shook hands with Trump, who praised the fighter. Murzakanov acknowledged the president during his post‑fight interview with Joe Rogan. The heavyweight showdown between Josh Hokit and Curtis Blaydes turned into a gritty slugfest, with Hokit prevailing by unanimous decision (29‑28 on all three cards). Trump cheered loudly as the fighters exchanged blows. Following Hokit’s win, UFC chief Dana White announced on social media that a bout between Hokit and Derrick Lewis would be added to the UFC Freedom 250 card, noting that President Trump helped bring the matchup together.