Sliver: Celebs Rumors

will reprise her role as Chani in Dune: Part Two, which means Law Roach has spent the past couple of months styling the actor in an accretion of sci-fi inspired looks. Back in December the actor wore a Schiaparelli skirt with a three-dimensional lobster clinging to its front; she looked like an embattled daughter of Poseidon.

Fox Corp. CFO Steven Tomsic said ESPN is “a great product” with strong potential in streaming, but the long-established brand is also just “a sliver of sports.”

Last month ANOHNI announced details of a new album titled My Back Was A Bridge For You To Cross. The album marks her return to working with The Johnsons and will be released on July 7.

a big 2.9 million viewers. (Compare that to the finale of a show that had much wider appeal, such as “Game of Thrones,” which attracted 19.3 million viewers).Some shows are about things that happen and why. “Succession” was about what didn’t happen.

Owen Gleiberman Chief Film Critic Aki Kaurismäki, the deadpan cockeyed minimalist of Finland, has become the ultimate illustration of the principle that if you make movies in the same mood and style, with the same monosyllabic bombed-out hipster vibe, for a period of 30 years, your movies may not have changed — but the world around them has, so the films will have a totally different effect. In “Fallen Leaves,” the Kaurismäki bauble that’s showing at Cannes this year, there’s actually a scene in which a character uses a computer. The film’s heroine, Ansa (Alma Pöysti), loses her job as a supermarket worker, and to find another gig she rents an HP laptop at a makeshift Internet café that charges 10 Euro for half an hour. Apart from that, the movie unfolds in that scruffy and sparsely decorated so-familiar-it’s-cozy pre-tech Kaurismäki zone, where people still use electric adding machines or listen to a bulky kitchen radio that looks like it’s from the early ’60s. “Fallen Leaves” is set in Helsinki, the capital of Finland, but to our eyes it’s a weirdly underpopulated place where shopping, as a pastime, doesn’t exist, and neither, in any meaningful way, does conversation.

Jessica Kiang Veering between profundity, faux profundity and a faintly discernible mockery of those who might mistake one for the other, Canadian filmmaker Denis Côté administers a thimbleful of COVID-era potion with “Social Hygiene,” which brought him the best director prize in the Berlinale Encounters sidebar (shared with Ramon and Silvan Zürcher for “The Girl and the Spider”). The film largely amounts to stagey scenes of two people bellowing petty philosophies at each other across a blustery meadow.