That smile...

seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Iraq

seen from France

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Kosovo
seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from Thailand

seen from France

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
That smile...
The Loki star breaks down the musical sequence in the “uplifting” apocalypse movie: “There is a profound optimism in this story”
Tom Hiddleston was in perpetual motion while shooting the outdoor dance number at the heart of The Life of Chuck. It was already difficult enough that he was sweating through his gray suit, but then a heatwave hit their downtown street location as they filmed in the Deep South.
“I burned holes in my shoes,” Hiddleston says. “I was dancing out on the asphalt in Alabama, and by the time we’d finished, you could see my socks through the soles.”
It should have been hellish, but the Loki star describes it more in terms of what Fred Astaire famously sang in Top Hat: “Heaven…I’m in heaven.” “It was always really fun,” Hiddleston says.
Mike Flanagan, the filmmaker behind The Haunting of Hill House, Midnight Mass, and such Stephen King adaptations as Doctor Sleep and Gerald’s Game, wanted to film this 2020 novella by the best-selling author not because it was especially terrifying, but because it was the opposite: uplifting, inspiring, hopeful. (Even though, technically, it’s also about the destruction of the entire world.)
Joy in the face of oblivion was the whole point—and how he recruited Hiddleston to literally hot-step through the most crowd-pleasing sequence of the film. “I remember when he read the script, it took him a few weeks,” Flanagan says. “He was traveling with his family on vacation. When he read the script, he wanted to talk right away. And we talked mostly about the concept of joy and about what he wanted his then infant son to feel in the world. So it became really clear that he was the guy.”
The inspiring apocalypse story, as it is now known, won the audience award at the Toronto International Film Festival last year before being picked up for distribution by Neon, the indie powerhouse that released best-picture winners Parasite and Anora. It debuts in limited release on June 6 and expands nationally on June 13, but long before either of them were sure The Life of Chuck would find its audience, Hiddleston and Flanagan threw themselves into a dance number they hoped would endure for the ages.
“I would dance off to the side,” Flanagan says. “I tried to moonwalk with Tom. They taught me how to do it—I can’t do it. I’m so self-conscious, and I’m so afraid of how I look, and I’m so embarrassed as I start to move my body.” Shooting the sequence with Hiddleston and his dance partner, actor Annalise Basso, was about breaking free of that kind of restraint.
“It was like watching two people leave the ground. For four days, we watched that over and over, from start to finish, and it never lost that feeling,” Flanagan says. “Even for the extras watching it, the smiles, the applause, the delight was authentic. By the third day of the shoot, I was like, I never want to shoot anything else. I could work and just shoot this scene for the rest of my career.”
But all good things come to an end, which is the prevailing message of The Life of Chuck, according to Hiddleston, who spoke with Vanity Fair about exactly what went into creating that moment.
Courtesy Dan Anderson/ Neon.
Vanity Fair: I remember talking to Stephen King when The Life of Chuck was first published about how this was an experiment for him. He was playing with narrative in a three-act story that moves backwards. He was taking a chance, trying something new, right?
Tom Hiddleston: That’s it. It's exactly that. I remember reading this script over Easter of 2023, and those exact sentiments struck me immediately in a very profoundly emotional way. Life is short, and we have an imperative to grab it with both hands. We don't know how short it's going to be. None of us know the date or the day when the lights will go out. We don't know why or how. All we know is we have the life that we have now.
Exactly who Chuck is and why he is so important to the universe is one of the story’s mysteries. We also see him as a young boy, but tell me about where you fit into his lifespan.
I played Chuck in the most middle-aged of his incarnations. I think he's at a fulcrum point, one of those moments he'll remember when he looks back. The life of every human being is a constellation, as expressed in this film. There are certain moments which will burn most brightly as individual stars.
And yet, it’s an apocalypse story.
Sometimes it feels like the world is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s full of pain and suffering, and it is—but there are moments of deep joy and connection. There is a profound optimism in this story. As the world is spinning off its axis, there are moments of magic.
They also appear unexpectedly.
Often those moments are ordinary. They don't come gift-wrapped with a bow. They don't come heralded or announced or garlanded. They just arrive—and they're magic, and you'll never forget them. Chuck's journey through his life is full of suffering and loss, and yet there are these moments of vitality and presence.
As the world decays and collapses, these billboards and posters and banners appear, showing you as Chuck—congratulating him on “39 great years.” Another of the film’s mysteries is why this seemingly boring man is so significant to the fabric of reality.
That Chuck's life is one ordinary individual life, but it can stand for all of our ordinary lives.There's a riff on Walt Whitman's great line, "I am large. I contain multitudes." And to some extent, I've always believed that, anyway, about human beings. I believe most of us have greater breadth and depth and range than a narrow perspective on our lives will allow.
But he’s not some demigod or cosmic figure. That’s not the twist.
Chuck is an accountant. Numbers are his thing. He also was a great dancer in high school, but you might not know that to look at Chuck the first time you see him. You might see the gray suit and the Samuel Windsor oxfords and the armor of accountancy. To look at him, you wouldn't think he was a great dancer, or he loved it, or that his grandmother taught him how to dance in their kitchen. All this detail, all of this depth and range, you wouldn't know. And I believe that's true of all of us. I believe all of us have these interior universes.
That’s the feel-good aspect of this end-of-the-world story?
I hope that speaks to the audience in the same way. It's about what we will remember in the last days of our lives. Those are the moments that will flash across our mind. I have a hunch—obviously. I'm still here, so I don't know—but I have a hunch those moments are not necessarily the big moments. They're the small moments. And the small moments themselves are not small.
What was your introduction to this story? The book, the script …?
I responded immediately to Mike Flanagan's screenplay, and then I obviously went back to the story in Stephen King's collection, If It Bleeds.I found it so ingenious, playing with time and playing with perspective.
One of the things we know going into this film is that at some point, Chuck has an epic dance sequence. Tell me about constructing that and the choreography by Mandy Moore (who’s best known for So You Think You Can Dance, 2016’s La La Land, and the dance numbers in Taylor Swift’s Eras tour.)
As described by Stephen King, it's the most free and fluid and elegant and precise that he has ever moved. He just dances with freedom and precision, and it crystallizes in a perfect moment of form and expression. And I thought: no pressure. [Laughs.]
How long did you have to rehearse?
I had to learn in six weeks the full regimen of any dance training. We did jazz, swing, salsa, cha-cha, the Charleston, bossa nova, polka, quickstep, samba. I can't think of all of them ... There were so many routines.
Fun or painful?
I loved it. I love dancing anyway. I've never danced at this level before. Working with Mandy and her assistant choreographer, Stephanie Powell [best known for Wicked], in London, and Taylor Gordon, the drummer, and Annalise Basso, who plays Janice, who I was dancing with ... It was just so fun to put this together.
Taylor plays a busker in this scene, a woman who is just playing her drum kit for cash on a street corner when her rhythms catch Chuck’s ear. And Annalise is a stranger who joins him in the spur of the moment. How do you keep it looking like it’s impromptu, but still precisely planned?
We didn't have a lot of time, and we just were thrown in at the deep end. Mandy worked with Annalise for a couple of weeks in Los Angeles. I worked with Stephanie for a couple of weeks in London. Then they flew to London for a week, and we put it all together. I've never learned anything with such intensity, I think.
Why do you think this scene hits the people who’ve seen it so hard?
The gray man in the gray suit and the gray tie puts his gray suitcase down and starts moving his hips to the beat of those drums. He's on his way to a meeting, and now he's probably going to be late for the meeting. He just thinks this is a jam, and “I'm into it.” And he starts to move. It had to have that total freedom and joy and vitality and life inside it.
This has a domino effect on the onlookers and the drummer. And maybe the audience too. This wave of that emanates from him. Stephen King has called the movie “a happiness machine.”
I think the character of the drummer, she’s not expecting anyone to pay much attention. Maybe someone will throw in a $10 bill or a $20 bill, but she's expecting quarters. She's not expecting this accountant to stop and dance. It takes flight on its own wings. It's not premeditated. It's not preconceived. It happens completely in the present tense.
Despite all the rehearsal, did you improvise much during the shoot?
Every time I did it, every take, something would happen which would be unplanned or accidental, and we'd always use it. Always. My glasses would fly off my head, or my tie would go flying, or something would happen with the crowd.
Are there any homages to classic dance numbers built into the performance?
We were trying to tip our hat to anything that might have influenced Chuck. It might’ve had a bit of Gene Kelly or Fred and Ginger. Certainly moonwalking—Stephen King is very specific about the moonwalk.
That's true!
I knew I had to do that.
This interview has been edited to add context and clarity.
The Life of Chuck
directed by Mike Flanagan, 2024
‘The Life Of Chuck’ Toronto International Film Festival Premiere, September 6, 2024
Nancy Cunard, of the English shipping family, announced on May 2, 1932 that she had been disinherited by her mother for her relationship with Henry Crowder, an African-American jazz musician. Cunard was a famously flamboyant bohemian writer and political activist whose best-known work was editing Negro Anthology, a huge compendium of work by Black writers. The photo shows Cunard with John Banting, left, a painter, and Taylor Gordon, right, a writer, in front of the Harlem hotel.
Photo: Associated Press via the NY Times
Moones Zeydabadi, “Curtain’s Tale”, 2025
The Delaware Contemporary is currently showing The 2025 University of Delaware Master of Fine Arts Thesis Exhibition. It’s an excellent chance to see what recent students have been creating.
The artists included: Abigail Dudley, Anna Freeman, Arend Neyhouse, Candy Fordjour Frimpong, Emmanuel Aboagye, Fuku Ito, Mikhail Shulga, Moones Zeydabadi, Priya Dave, Shoshi Rosenstein, Taylor Gordon, and Yoosef Mohamadi
This exhibition will be on view until 5/25/25.
Below are a selection of works from the artists and their statements about their work.
Moones Zeydabadi I make drawings and paintings depicting human and nonhuman figures in scenes of intimate encounter with each other and their environments. These narratives draw from deeply personal experiences which embody a more universal experience of being. I weave together fragments of recollection, imagined environments, and symbolic gestures to visually represent the complexity of identity and the way it shifts and fractures into new territories as one journeys through life. My practice explores the liminal territory in which identity, memory and legacy seep through our collective subconsciousness. Through my interest in casting light on overlooked or forgotten stories, I infuse them with living qualities and complex non-linear narrative paths, I model a new, broader, and alternative space of belonging.
Foreground sculptures (and interior detail) by Priya Dave
Priya Dave As an Indian, my art spectrum seeks to disrupt the cycle of disempowerment by integrating self-studied neuroscience research to explore the microbiology of the mind affected by culturally restrictive and arbitrary rules. The societal norms often resulted in mental health challenges, including depression and self-doubt, which left many struggling to trust their judgment or make decisions. Through my work, I strive to create immersive environments that map the brain’s physiological structure, fostering public engagement and raising awareness about mental health through a scientific and artistic lens. My artistic practice encompasses various mediums, including painting, drawing, printmaking, immersive and video installations, and multi-sensorial experiences. Drawing from my Indian heritage, l often incorporate culturally and historically significant materials like kumkum, fabrics, and spices. These elements are deeply rooted in tradition and carry themes of memory, and identity. By transforming these materials into multisensory artworks, I reimagine their traditional meanings and bring them into contemporary conversations. Through this fusion of culture and neuroscience, I create spaces that stimulate multiple senses, including sight, touch, sound, smell, and proprioception, encouraging deeper introspection. My work seeks to bridge the gap between personal experience and universal understanding, addressing the amalgamation of mental health, identity, and sensory perception. It is a reflection of my commitment to exploring how art can transcend cultural boundaries and inspire meaningful connections while fostering mental well- being and self-awareness.
Abigail Dudley My paintings celebrate the singularity of perception and the way it entangles how one perceives the world. I am captivated by the slow build-up of forms and the subtle shifts in color that allow me to infuse a soft atmosphere of memory and temporal transitions into my paintings. My work is connected by my search for meaningful encounters with my surroundings through the act of painting, and a search to find surprising moments in life and painting. My work focuses on the visual slippage between personal narrative and creating a space between harmony and contradictions of visual elements. Through this process, I tie together a space through intimate moments of perception. I aim to cultivate the idea of what it means to linger within a place and how that response can translate into a painting to act as a form of resistance to fast-looking in a culture that values a fast pace of life.
Mikhail Shulga My introspective nature is rooted in my identity as a Russian. Long winters and limited sunlight compel us to seek solace indoors, fostering a culture of deep spiritualism and reflection. Over generations, resilience has emerged from the hardships, shifting political regimes, and wars that define our history, further shaping this introspective tradition. In my installations, I repurpose discarded electronics – objects imbued with nostalgia and unrealized promise. Once luxurious and cutting-edge, these items now lie abandoned on sidewalks. Many come from the ’90s and ’00s, my childhood years, when such technology symbolized hope for a better future. But that promise feels unfulfilled. While our lives have become more convenient, we are left grappling with existential questions: How does technology impact our sense of self and the meaning of human existence? Does the rapid advancement of technology amplify or diminish alienation, freedom, and authenticity? How do virtual spaces, social media, and digital communication shape our perceptions of reality, relationships, and identity? Perhaps the answers lie not in outside but in our own reflections. – “We don’t know what to do with other worlds. We don’t need other worlds. We need a mirror.” Tarkovsky, A. (Director). (1972), Solaris [Film].
Emmanuel Aboagye My work uses the language of painting to explore ideas of visibility and invisibility as it relates to issues of identity, memory and belonging in a post-colonial context. I explore the complexities of identity, be it class, race and nationality. I give agency to memory not as a tool to investigate the past but a medium for evaluation in the present. I investigate the nuances and specificity of the idea of belonging. Having been trained as a painter, I employ modern sensibilities in engaging the materials I work with, utilizing them as a lens to examine notions of liberation. I work with materials like, acrylic paint, oil paint, brush, linen, canvas, sequence, wrappers, frost sheet, junk mail flyers, patterned plastic bags and electric iron. I consider the histories and attitude of the materials I work with. They are not merely tools but collaborators in an emancipatory process. I lean on improvisation as a radical approach for self-liberation in my practice. This allows for spontaneity, fluidity, and the unexpected, reflecting my commitment to embracing uncertainty and possibility.
Arend Neyhouse My work weaves historical notions of art into the tapestry of our contemporary world. Specifically, while dealing with elements of myth and fable, I tell stories in the space of suburban America. As a consumer of fiction, and spending the majority of my life in suburbia, I explore the synthesis of these elements. My work exists at the crossroads of fable and familiar. With my figurative paintings, I continue to explore realist arts position in the contemporary art world. I think that through the exploration of the mundane parts of our daily lives lies a time capsule for posterity – a captivating exploration of quietude transformed into an everlasting narrative. My images exist in the in between. Moments before or after a great change. I am not trying to tell the whole story, but merely a single page, or even a single line; leaving whole worlds both before and after each image. A testament to the sense of sonder as the world churns around us. Creating epic scenes through my technical approach and unwavering craftsmanship; humanity is laid bare. Through my art, I aspire to create not just paintings, but windows into the soul of our shared existence.
Anna Freeman Words can diminish meaning. No single word can fully capture how miraculous and fateful our childhood memories are. The silence in my ceramic studio, where I create my sculptures, speaks volumes. Soft, pastel colors whisper of innocence, kindness, and the openness to the world that many of us lack today. I take my viewer by the hand and guide them into the realm of their inner child through images of folklore, folk art, and childhood memories, hoping they will awaken the world with kind, childlike eyes and strive to change it for the better. However, do not be misled by the apparent simplicity and naivety on display. Kindness is not a weakness.
Taylor Gordon Taylor’s evolution in oil painting captures true and authentic emotions,which allows viewers to interpret and relate. Her work is inspired by Black contemporary art and is focused on utilizing colors through various expressions to tell a story. These portraits are derived from her surroundings and personal inspiration, telling a story that can be felt, whether it brings joy, pain, laughter or sadness. As Taylor initiates conversation she hopes it leads to hope and/or comfort. The work is focused on topics and/or subjects that relate to lifestyles and experiences within the Black community, while incorporating key factors that represent black people with different values and ethics. She grew inspiration from the many issues faced in society within the black community, which is what ignited that passion. In response, wanting to explore and bring topics to light surrounding beauty standards, racism, black on black crime, education, sexism, etc. Resulting in delivering messages that are impacting society based on stereotypical perspectives, while embracing blackness, openness and vulnerability. Reflecting our strength, elegance, wealth, restraint and power through each piece, she encourages and provides more than one narrative. Generating conversations that can be more than just associating black people with death, mourning, darkness and crime. As it is essential to the history of the United States. Creating realistically evoking emotions and thought-provoking discussions.
Fuku Ito is a multidisciplinary artist from Japan, currently pursuing her Master’s of Fine Arts degree at the University of Delaware (UD) in Newark, DE. Ito received her Bachelor’s of Fine Arts with a concentration in ceramics from the Institute of American Indian Arts (AIA) in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Her works, primarily ceramics, are used to explore the cultural and traditional expectations surrounding Japanese women. Her art twists the stereotypical Japanese women’s expectations to bring attention to the adamant custom of oppression through lack of voice and bodily autonomy. Using clay as a portrayal of females, she recreates notions of Japanese women’s lived experiences as victims of “tradition” without of blurring them out.
Shoshi Rosenstein Capturing the abstracted world within a photograph allows me to recontextualize and present nature in unexpected ways. Exploring the ways in which different photographs interact, my work attempts to recontextualize the way viewers look at photography. I aim to manipulate the photographs I take in ways that cause others to slow down and interact with the artwork. My work utilizes black and white images created using analog processes along with techniques which incorporate visual and physical layers such as collages, books, and weavings to reframe the traditional photographic viewing experience. The use of double exposure techniques increases the level of abstraction in my imagery while also allowing experimentation and a loss of control from the artist. My use of individually crafted handmade objects creates a more personalized experience for the viewer, allowing them to closely look at and interact with the photographs. Through the experience of handling or viewing a uniquely made object, the viewer is able to interact with artwork in a nontraditional way.
Candy Fordjour Frimpong I am drawn to the power of miniatures, as vessels of memory, longing, and transformation, small objects contain vast histories and emotions. My work explores these ideas through personal and collective stories. Inspired by Susan Stewart’s “On Longing,” I am interested in how miniatures convey and preserve desire and narrative through the lens of Akuaba, an Akan fertility symbol also linked to ancestry and cultural continuity. I use clay, plastic, chocolate and found objects, I combine traditional and contemporary techniques such as modeling, casting, and printing to recontextualize inherited symbols into modern narratives. Through my explorations, I aim to spark conversations around the complexities of identity and narratives embedded in material culture.
Motorized sculpture by Yoosef Mohamadi, one of several works in the exhibition
Yoosef Mohamadi My art is rooted in personal and collective memories, shaped by my identity as a Kurd and the experience of discrimination, assimilation, and cultural erasure. Growing up where histories are fractured and voices are silenced, I create as an act of resistance-to reclaim what has been suppressed and give form to the unseen weight of memory. Personal and collective experiences anchor my work, revealing the struggle between preservation and erasure. The forces of assimilation attempt to redefine existence, while discrimination reinforces the barriers between heritage and imposed identity. My art challenges these forces, questioning how histories are rewritten and identities are fractured.
i used magma :333
taylor and char doodle is a gift for my moot: @moldyzine-yuri
Darren Criss: Running Around
Late Late Show music guest Darren Criss shares a very special performance of "Running Around" featuring Este Haim, Charlene Kaye and The Pocket Queen.