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Disney introduced InfinityVision at this year’s CinemaCon, positioning it as a certification for premium large‑format (PLF) auditoriums that meet or exceed undisclosed standards for screen size, brightness and sound quality. While the name sounds like a Marvel spin‑off, the label applies to any film, not just superhero titles. Disney claims roughly 300 screens worldwide already carry the badge, though a public directory has yet to appear. The timing is strategic: Disney’s Avengers: Doomsday is slated for a December debut that coincides with the release of the third Dune film, which has secured a limited run on coveted Imax screens. By promoting InfinityVision, Disney hopes to reassure audiences that alternative PLF venues—such as Dolby, RPX and other branded auditoriums—can deliver an equally spectacular experience, a tactic the author dubs screenmaxxing. Screenmaxxing has become a lifeline for a theatrical sector under pressure from streaming and rising ticket prices. Even the smallest multiplex PLF screens dwarf the televisions owned by the majority of consumers, yet theatres cannot simply charge a $5 premium for a larger screen; they need to sell a demonstrably superior visual and auditory package. Today’s market offers a bewildering array of PLF options, especially in cities where multiple chains compete. Directors like Ryan Coogler (Sinners) and the team behind Project Hail Mary use the variety of formats as a marketing hook, explaining aspect‑ratio differences and visual nuances to fans. Even legacy formats have resurfaced: Paul Thomas Anderson’s One Battle After Another revived the rarely used VistaVision, an analog high‑definition process dormant for half a century, alongside traditional 70mm and Imax prints. Adding to the mix, a new digital projector brand—HDR by Barco—is being rolled out to compete with Dolby‑branded auditoriums. The technology promises deeper blacks, heightened contrast and unprecedented brightness, and has already been adopted by the Alamo Drafthouse chain for its dine‑in locations. Many of these Barco‑equipped rooms also feature Dolby Atmos sound, though the author cautions against conflating sound systems with projection technologies. To gauge HDR by Barco’s performance, the writer visited the Brooklyn Alamo Drafthouse, one of three New York venues using the system (the others are Regal locations equipped with RPX screens). While the recent Super Mario Galaxy movie showcased the projector’s vivid palette, the reviewer chose a more demanding test: Lee Cronin’s horror‑reimagining The Mummy. Compared with a prior Dolby projection of the same film, the Barco version delivered a noticeable boost in clarity—especially in shadow‑heavy scenes—without the oversharpening or motion‑smoothing artifacts sometimes seen on consumer TVs. The experience was “brighter” yet retained natural colour balance, offering a subtle but real upgrade over standard cinema projection. Despite the technical gains, the piece questions whether another premium brand can truly shift audience habits. The author argues that healthy competition among laser‑projection systems may prevent theatres from settling for “dim” images, encouraging cinephiles to seek out PLF venues. However, blockbuster spectacles like the climactic battle in Avengers: Endgame remain visually underwhelming even on an InfinityVision‑certified screen, suggesting that format alone cannot rescue a film’s visual impact. Ultimately, the most compelling case for premium formats may be the construction of genuine Imax theatres, not retrofits. True Imax auditoriums prioritize height over width, delivering an immersive field of view that even high‑end digital projectors struggle to match. Yet only a few dozen such venues exist worldwide; most “Imax” screens are simply Dolby, Barco or RPX rooms equipped with the brand’s hardware. Screenmaxxing, therefore, is likely to remain a niche pursuit rather than a universal solution for the exhibition industry. While hunting for the loudest, sharpest presentation can be entertaining, an overabundance of competing formats may reinforce the perception that a standard movie‑going experience is insufficient—potentially undermining the very audience the industry hopes to attract.

When the traditional photo of the world’s top 16 was taken outside Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre on Friday, Ronnie O’Sullivan and Judd Trump were conspicuously absent. Their failure to attend the press event—required by player contracts—cast a shadow over the opening weekend of the World Snooker Championship.Organisers have not explained the duo’s absence, but the snooker community worries it could trigger disciplinary measures. Financial penalties are unlikely, yet the mood shift was palpable among players and journalists.Defending champion Zhao Xintong arrives as the clear favourite, with bookmakers offering odds reminiscent of Stephen Hendry’s dominance in the 1990s. The tournament’s long‑term deal with the Crucible is no longer the headline; instead, the focus is on whether Zhao can break the “Crucible curse” that has plagued first‑time champions.World No 8 Shaun Murphy, a 2005 champion, voiced his disappointment: “It’s become normal that they don’t turn up for these things… It’s a real shame, and they could have done more to promote the game.” Murphy stressed that the absence reflects on the players themselves rather than on snooker as a whole.Beyond the headline names, the championship showcases a historic record 11 Chinese players in the 32‑man field, underscoring China’s growing influence on the sport. Zhao’s 2025 triumph marked the first world title for a Chinese player, and his presence continues to boost the game’s profile in Asia.At the same time, fresh British talent is emerging. Nineteen‑year‑old Stan Moody of Halifax and twenty‑year‑old Liam Pullen from York have qualified for the first time, while Antoni Kowalski, aged 22, becomes Poland’s inaugural Crucible competitor. World No 14 Mark Allen praised the “strength in depth” these youngsters bring, and Murphy echoed the sentiment, suggesting that visible success could inspire a new wave of UK players.All eyes will eventually turn to O’Sullivan, who is slated to begin his campaign on Tuesday against qualifier He Guoqiang. Until then, the tournament balances the allure of established stars with the promise of a new generation poised to seize the spotlight.

Richard Wagner’s near‑death at sea in 1839 inspired the legend of the cursed ghost ship that underpins The Flying Dutchman. The Welsh National Opera (WNO) brings this myth to life in a fresh production that treats the libretto as a poetic meditation on birth, love, and mortality. Directed by Jack Furness, the opening scene intertwines a woman’s labor with the overture’s turbulent surges, symbolising the birth of Senta—destined to lose her mother and become haunted by the Dutchman’s promise of redemption, which can surface only once every seven years. Visual motifs—circling movements, blood‑red dresses echoing the ship’s sails—reinforce the cyclical fate of both protagonists. Designer Elin Steele and lighting designer Lizzie Powell conjure stormy seas and mist without literal ships, allowing the audience to focus on the raw emotions conveyed by the singers. Minimalist set pieces, occasional gold‑dust flourishes, and precise costume changes keep the drama tight and immersive. The cast delivers a musically rewarding performance. James Creswell shines as Daland with crystal‑clear German diction, while Simon Bailey portrays the tormented Dutchman with a compelling blend of menace and sympathy, especially in the final act. Rachel Nicholls as Senta offers a believable, passionately deluded love, delivering bel canto lines with immaculate pitch. Tenors Trystan Llŷr Griffiths (the Steersman) and Leonardo Caimi (Erik) make strong impressions, though the opera’s numerous choruses feel over‑extended. The WNO orchestra, under the authoritative baton of outgoing music director Tomáš Hanus, creates a convincing tempest that underpins the drama. Facing a thin 2026/27 season, the company is eager to prove its vitality, making these performances a must‑see—though audiences should not anticipate a conventional resolution. Staging dates include the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff (19 April), Theatre Royal Plymouth (24 April), Birmingham Hippodrome (7 May) and Milton Keynes Theatre (15 May).Review by Rian Evans, The Guardian, 17 April 2026.

Equity’s Choreographers and Movement Directors Network (CMDN) says that theatre’s physical storytellers are still marginalised by awards bodies and should receive dedicated recognition.At the recent Olivier Awards, Fabian Aloise secured the best theatre choreographer prize for "Evita" at the London Palladium. While the network welcomed the visibility, it pointed out that the movement directors behind the nominated productions were omitted from any specific category, sparking a broader debate about the language used to credit theatrical creation.CMDN highlighted several movement directors whose work shaped this season’s most impactful shows, naming Leanne Pinder ("Punch"), Sarah Golding ("Kenrex"), Imogen Knight ("Dead Man Walking"), Jenny Ogilvie ("Into the Woods"), Sung Im Her ("The Glass Menagerie"), Lucy Hind ("Inter Alia") and Kloé Dean ("The Boy at the Back of the Class").Movement direction, the network explains, is not always dance but is essential to a production’s physical language, characterisation and dramatic flow. "If we celebrate the impact of physical storytelling, we must also evolve how we acknowledge the artists behind it," CMDN said.The network praised the Black British Theatre Awards for expanding their choreography category in 2022 to include movement direction, but noted that the UK Theatre Awards and Critics’ Circle Awards still lack dedicated categories for either choreography or movement direction.Founded in 2023 by movement director and choreographer Polly Bennett, CMDN now counts over 200 members. In a 2025 interview, steering‑group member Ellen Kane asked, "Why aren’t there Oscars or BAFTAs for choreography? Why aren’t we being credited?"Last month, more than a hundred theatre professionals signed a petition urging the Olivier Awards to create a separate video‑design category, arguing that the current system lumps video designers with other disciplines. This year’s Olivier winners illustrate the overlap: Tom Pye (set) and Ash J Woodward (video) shared the best set‑design award for "Paddington: The Musical", while Aideen Malone (lighting) and Roland Horvath (video) shared best lighting‑design for "Into the Woods".

Mr Cobra arrives as the latest statement from Korean‑American experimental musician Lucy Liyou, translating her solo music‑theatre piece into a full‑length album that confronts the corrosive nature of desire. From the opening track, listeners are greeted by a fractured piano motif that feels like shattered glass against an empty canvas, immediately setting a tone of tension and vulnerability.The record refuses to settle into any single genre. Liyou’s soundscapes swell into glossy disco bursts, dissolve into a tongue‑in‑cheek Taylor Swift skit, and even collapse into farmyard noises and text‑to‑speech monologues. This kaleidoscopic approach mirrors the emotional volatility of the central character, Babygirl, who oscillates between yearning and revulsion as she navigates a predatory romance.Key moments illustrate the album’s thematic focus on shame and power dynamics. On “Constrictor (Haha)”, Babygirl’s submissive cravings are drenched in cold‑water imagery, only to be abruptly repelled in the whimsical “Old MacDonald Had a Charm”. By the close of the track she is once again flirting, underscoring the cyclical trap of abusive attraction. Liyou also toys with celebrity culture; the track “Romeopathy” reworks Swift’s “Love Story” into a desperate plea for validation, repeatedly urging Mr Cobra to “just say yes”.While the album’s nursery‑rhyme hooks and disco interludes can momentarily distract from its darker undercurrents, they are integral to the smart, playful chaos that defines Liyou’s artistic vision. Mr Cobra stands as a daring, semi‑autobiographical exploration of how desire can both enthrall and erode, offering listeners a richly layered experience that rewards repeated, attentive listening.

Christine Baranski, known for her TV roles in The Good Fight and The Gilded Age, is set to make her West End debut in a revival of Noël Coward's comedy Hay Fever. She will star as Judith Bliss, a newly retired actor, alongside Richard E Grant, who will play her novelist husband.Baranski, a two-time Tony award winner for best featured actress in a play, expressed her excitement to “tear a passion to tatters” in the 1925 play about a family toying with their guests at a country house party. The production, directed by Emily Burns, will run at Wyndham’s theatre from 22 September to 12 December.Baranski described the play as a “101-year-old comedy of appalling manners” that requires “quicksilver delivery and suave flamboyance.” She also praised Grant as “whip-smart and wickedly funny.” This production marks a significant return to the theatre for Grant, who has recently appeared in supporting roles in films like The Thursday Murder Club and Nuremberg.The revival of Hay Fever is part of a recent surge in productions of Noël Coward's works, including Fallen Angels and Easy Virtue. Baranski's West End debut is a long-awaited event, with the actress having attended her first West End play in 1971 as a student at Juilliard.

The musical Avenue Q has returned to the West End, bringing with it its unique blend of provocative puppetry, satire, and catchy songs. The show, which first debuted 20 years ago, has been updated to include modern references to AI, OnlyFans, and Spotify.Directed by Jason Moore, the production features a cast of actor-puppeteers, including Noah Harrison and Emily Benjamin, who bring to life a cast of lovable but flawed characters. The show's puppet designer, Rick Lyon, has created a cast of furry, Sesame Street-inspired characters that are both cute and subversive.The show's songs, written by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx, are a highlight of the production, with numbers like If You Were Gay and Everyone's a Little Bit Racist tackling taboo subjects with humor and wit. The show's book, written by Jeff Whitty, has been updated to include modern references, adding to the show's timeless satire.While the story itself may not be especially strong, the production's sweet/subversive/manic charms make up for it. The show ends on a hopeful note, with a message that this too will pass, even for Trump.The production is running at the Shaftesbury theatre in London until 29 August.

Young Vic artistic director Nadia Fall insists that theatres facing fiscal pressure must rely on daring, crowd‑pulling programming to restore solvency. Announcing a fresh slate of productions, she highlighted an anti‑Trump musical adaptation of Thelma & Louise as a flagship effort to attract diverse audiences. Since assuming leadership in 2025, Fall has overseen a £500,000 deficit that forced staff reductions. She stresses that while increased philanthropy is essential, the director’s most immediate lever is the choice of shows that can “program our way out of the crisis.” The upcoming musical, set to open on 3 September, features a score by Grammy‑winning Neko Case of the New Pornographers, and benefits from the involvement of original screenwriter Callie Khouri. Fall hopes the production’s feminist angle—positioned against the backdrop of “Trump’s America” and rolling back of women’s rights—will resonate with audiences. Other autumn highlights include Shedinburgh, an immersive showcase bringing Edinburgh Fringe talent such as Sara Pascoe and Inua Ellams to London for the first time, and Eurotrash, starring Ben Whishaw and Kathryn Hunter, adapted from Christian Kracht’s dark novel about a mother‑son road trip in the Swiss Alps. Fall also confirmed her direction of August Wilson’s Gem of the Ocean and the South London staging of Tiago Rodrigues’ father‑daughter drama La Distance. Additionally, a world premiere of Debbie Tucker Green’s near‑future dystopia Dissent will explore themes of surveillance and censorship that echo contemporary societal concerns. Her remarks came as a new Arts Council England report revealed a 64% decline in the number of plays touring England since 2019, underscoring the sector’s precarious state. While past successes—such as James Graham’s Punch, which earned two Olivier Awards—demonstrate the potential of strong programming, Fall warns that the split of box‑office receipts and Theatre Tax Relief often deters collaborative ventures across the country. Calling for “government‑level incentives” to make nationwide partnerships viable, Fall concluded that the future of UK theatre hinges on a combination of bold artistic choices, private investment, and supportive public policy.

Becoming a parent reshapes every facet of daily life—the late‑night outings fade, responsibility expands, and the role shifts from being cared for to becoming a caretaker. This profound transition forms the emotional core of Jess Brodie’s new play, Gush. The playwright deliberately zeroes in on the moments before birth, a period she describes as a “still point” where reflection and anticipation collide. Rather than dramatizing labor itself, Brodie explores the inner landscape of a woman on the brink of motherhood. At the centre of the piece is Ally, a pregnant woman whose bulging belly becomes a visual reminder of her mounting anxieties. She grapples with sleepless nights, dietary restrictions, and the looming deadline of maternity leave, while also confronting an unfinished personal identity that must now accommodate the role of “mum”. Beyond the familiar pressures of pregnancy, the monologue delves into Ally’s quest for self‑realisation. The impending birth is portrayed as a ticking time‑bomb, intensifying her doubts about a middle‑class existence shared with a neurotic, controlling partner. The narrative questions whether she should finally honour the sexual desires she has long suppressed. Critics may note the play’s narrow focus—its politics are largely self‑absorbed, and its feminist themes risk sounding solipsistic. Nevertheless, Brodie’s script is laced with wit and unexpected turns, keeping the audience firmly engaged. In Becky Hope‑Palmer’s meticulously crafted production, the set—half stark white surface, half inviting cushion pool—mirrors the tension between alienation and comfort. It is Jessica Hardwick’s performance that elevates the piece. Her voice, both resonant and precise, navigates Brodie’s rapid tonal shifts—from irony to panic, embarrassment to eroticism, fury to humor—with remarkable sensitivity. Hardwick’s portrayal makes Gush a must‑see, even for those who might otherwise overlook the play’s limited thematic scope. The production runs at the Traverse Theatre in Edinburgh until 25 April.