The two stars, known for their roles in Lionsgate‘s original Hunger Games films, will appear in the forthcoming prequel movie The Hunger Games: Sunrise on the Reaping, The Hollywood Reporter has confirmed. Lionsgate releases the new feature in theaters Nov. 20, 2026.
Lawrence will reprise her role as Katniss Everdeen, while Hutcherson will return as Peeta Mellark, with the pair likely appearing in a flash-forward. No details have been disclosed.
The book Sunrise on the Reaping takes place in Panem on the morning of the reaping for the 50th Hunger Games, 24 years before the events in The Hunger Games, the first novel that published in 2008. The franchise’s first five movies have surpassed $3.3 billion at the worldwide box office, with the initial four films led by Lawrence as Katniss, Hutcherson as Peeta, and Liam Hemsworth as Gale Hawthorne. The film series kicked off with 2012’s The Hunger Games.
Lawrence and Hutcherson’s most recent entry in the franchise was 2015’s The Hunger Games: Mockingjay — Part 2, which ended with the pair married with children. Lawrence earned a Golden Globe Award nomination this week for her role in Die My Love, while Hutcherson currently stars in Five Nights at Freddy’s 2.
Francis Lawrence helms the new movie from a script by Billy Ray that adapts Collins’ book. Nina Jacobson and Brad Simpson produce for Color Force, while Cameron MacConomy executive produces.
Sunrise on the Reaping is a sequel to 2023’s The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, which starred Rachel Zegler, Tom Blyth and Hunter Schafer.
Lionsgate did not respond for comment.
The InSneiderwas first to report on Lawrence and Hutcherson being involved.
Let the 50th Hunger Games begin! These games are going to be different.
Enter the latest addition to The Hunger Games series, The Hunger Games: Sunrise On The Reaping. Considering the cast list for the new movie was only announced earlier this year, we were shocked when we woke up this morning to the official teaser trailer for The Hunger Games: Sunrise On The Reaping. However, every moment was perfection. We got chills up and down our spines from just how hauntingly beautiful every frame was. There’s so much to talk about! But first, let’s dive into the cast, the story, and some exclusive photos.
Image Source: Courtesy of Lionsgate
The Cast & The Story
If you haven’t been keeping up with The Hunger Games: Sunrise On The Reaping cast list announcements throughout this year, we’ve got you covered with the full cast list here. Did you know a handful of these actors and actresses were fan-cast? So many iconic names, both experienced and new!
If you haven’t read The Hunger Games: Sunrise On The Reaping, we promise not to give away too many details of the story. For our new Hunger Games honeybees – remember Haymitch Abernathy from the first movie? Well, this new film is all about him. That’s all we’ll say for now. Go read the series and catch up on the movies. You have a full year to do so, after all.
The Hunger Games: Sunrise on the Reaping will revisit the world of Panem twenty-four years before the events of The Hunger Games, starting on the morning of the reaping of the Fiftieth Hunger Games, also known as the Second Quarter Quell.
As stated in a press release about the film
The Trailer
The first teaser trailer is absolutely perfect! It runs at just over 2 minutes – way longer than we thought we’d ever get so soon. In this trailer, we’re briefly introduced to a few key characters, including Drusilla Sickle, Haymitch, Lenore, Maysilee, Effie Trinket, President Snow, and Plutarch Heavensbee. There are still so many other characters we haven’t seen yet! And yes, we will be rewatching this trailer all week.
Exclusive Photos
The Hunger Games: Sunrise On The Reaping releases on November 20, 2026. That might seem like a long way away (it is), but to keep us fans satisfied until then, we’re locking in on these exclusive photos of our favorite characters. As the months go on and we ring in the new year, we’re hoping a few more photos and a handful of new trailers get released. We have no patience!
Image Source: Courtesy of LionsgateImage Source: Courtesy of LionsgateImage Source: Courtesy of LionsgateImage Source: Courtesy of Lionsgate
Have you watched the new trailer for The Hunger Games: Sunrise On The Reaping? Which character are you most excited to see more of on the big screen next year? Let us know down in the comments or buzz with us by tweeting @TheHoneyPOP! We are also on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok!
Find out what other movies we’re buzzing about in the hive!
In many ways, Ken Burns is the Van Halen of historical documentary directors.
Before you jump, hear me out.
Watching the acclaimed filmmaker’s upcoming The American Revolutionwith some apprehension, it became clear that the six-part PBS series is the soulmate to Van Halen’s seminal but commercially disappointing 1981 album Fair Warning – in a very good way.
Debuting Sunday on PBS stations, the often-languorous American Revolution has all the slow pans across paintings and maps that appear in all of Burns’ work from 1981’s Brooklyn Bridge to The Civil War, 2009’s National Parks, biographies of Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin, 2011’s Prohibition, 2017’s The Vietnam War and last year’s Leonardo da Vinci.
Along with Burns and his and co-directors David P. Schmidt and Sarah Botstein’s use of evocative locations and out-of-focus re-creations, American Revolution has narration by Peter Coyote, and high-definition but measured sit-down interviews with historians.
With techniques made famous and mockingly infamous by The Civil War and subsequent Burns projects, American Revolution uses letters and meticulous examination of the time to represent ordinary men and women in extraordinary situations. Like so many Burns projects, there are those celebrity voice-overs from the likes of Samuel L. Jackson, Meryl Streep Tom Hanks, Paul Giamatti (playing, you guessed it, John Adams), poet Amanda Gorman, Hamiltonvet Jonathan Groff (not playing who you think) and Michael Keaton to name but a handful.
(L-R) Tom Hanks, Paul Giamatti, Amanda Gorman, Michael Keaton, Meryl Streep, Samuel L. Jackson and Jonathan Groff
Getty Images/Rich Polk for Deadline
Yes, there is a lot of the Burns tried and true in American Revolution. Add to that the fact that you know how it all turns out and, even as a student of American history, you get my trepidation going in.
So, let’s get back to that Van Halen comparison for a second.
Similar to the fourth album release from the David Lee Roth-fronted rockers, Burns’ take on the war that created America does stick to the decades-old methods and formats that have worked for him since The Civil War exploded on the small screen in 1990. When Fair Warning came out in 1981, some critics noted that it too had all the hallmarks of previous Van Halen albums and no real evolution.
Yet, some also acknowledged “Eddie [Van Halen]’s latest sound effects” and the submerged introduction of synthesizers to the band’s palate. The latter revelation was a game changer obvious to anyone who over the years followed the band after its synth-heavy blockbuster 1984.
In that context, when it comes to the quietly ambitious American Revolution, you don’t need to look too hard to notice something different going on under the surface from previous Burns works. Let’s put it this way: You don’t need to look too hard at a calendar, your local defunded PBS station or much else to see 2025 is almost as far away from 1990 as it is from 1981 or 1776.
The world has changed, the medium has changed, America has changed, and the stakes have definitely changed.
‘The American Revolution’
PBS
On the most integral level, the past decade in our frayed Republic has seen a domination by MAGA madness and the largely toxic discharge of social media. So, to put it mildly, there’s a lot of blood in the water in the culture and our sense of our collective history.
Having spent most of the past decade making American Revolution, Ken Burns clearly knows that. To that, like Van Halen’s Fair Warning, there is an urgent undercurrent that wasn’t in Burns’ previous films. Something is stirring in him, and in us — and the saga of the creation of this often unruly nation has something to tell us about what is happening now.
How that manifests itself for viewers likely depends on your own patience with the long series, and your voter-registration card.
Regardless of where you stand on the political spectrum or regarding Flat Earthers, there is no denying the inviolable sense of time and place in American Revolution. It’s as if Eddie Van Halen, without telling anyone, added an extra two strings on his guitar to reverberate through his Marshall stack, and the ages.
Eddie Van Halen
AP Photos
This is not the kind of American history MAGA loyalists like, and not just for the reasons you might think. To that, with the almost last breath of the Van Halen analogy, part of the success of The American Revolution is how it is loud and proud in a quiet way.
For another thing that perhaps won’t land well with MAGA crowd: it’s also complicated and quite diverse.
Which is to say, if you are looking for the Founding Fathers and their friends to be the guys in the white hats, you might want look somewhere else. For instance, not all the good guys are white (the David Oyelowo-voiced Olaudah Equiano is one example), and not all of them are guys (the Maya Hawke voice of Betsy Ambler).
Burns’ American Revolution also burns to a crisp the prevailing notion of the Great Man of American History.
Sorry George Washington and Alexander Hamilton fans, but there’s a lot more going on in the taverns where much of it happens than those infectious Lin-Manuel Miranda tunes tell you. Opening up the aperture, American Revolution often stares straight into the ugly and unsavory realpolitik of nation creation, with broken and bumbling men and women, well-meaning or not, stumbling into an idea of a better tomorrow.
Between the incomprehensibility and the incompetence on the side of the British Empire and the side of the American rebels that Burns outlines in American Revolution, the chaotic colonists’ attempts to free themselves from the rule of George III could have had all the hallmarks of a prequel to The Poseidon Adventure, with more boats.
As the losses and bodies pile up for the rebels (I’m not saying Battle of Long Island, but I’m saying Battle of Long Island), you many even wonder why they just didn’t give up to fight another day — you won’t be alone. That feeling and, dare I say it without seeming too fancy, the contemporary subtext, is part of Burns and gang’s genius with American Revolution.
You want to look away because it is almost painful to be so deep in the muck, and you know how it ends, so why must we be stuck in this muck? Can’t we get to the glories of Independence Hall? Yet despite those typical barriers to belief, you should keep watching.
Why?
Truth be told, with all the mishaps (to put it politely) and egos among the deeply divided rebels, as the episodes move along something delightful and insightful emerges over the talking-head historians, history lessons and trivia.
Even in this dank decade for American democracy that we are living in now, the recently neglected sense of the near universal inspiration created by our centuries-old revolution springs to life anew. Turns out, the tale of the wild American dogs chasing the Brits back over the pond and beginning one of the greatest leaps of faith in human history still makes for pretty damn good history, on the small screen and otherwise.
Or, in the words of Van Halen: “Change, nothin’ stays the same/Unchained, and ya hit the ground runnin’.
You also get some unconventional wisdom from American Revolution amidst stories you’ve heard a million times before — great stuff to show off at your kids’ school recitals and soccer practices.
The motivations behind Benedict Arnold’s turn to the British side, for example, actually turns out to be much more about the heart and of the divine than they ever taught us in school. Gen. Arnold (voiced by Keaton, who you are kinda dying for him to say “I am a traitor” in a “I am Batman” way) was all too human, it seems.
To be honest, especially when it comes to the American rebels partnering with the French and their despotic monarchy against George III and the Redcoats, Arnold’s betrayal of Washington (the latter voiced by the once George W. Bush-portraying Josh Brolin) and alliance with the British makes some degree of sense, at least from his perspective.
Which is to say, if you are interested in real people, real battles (literal, social, racial and political) and the messiness of what 1776 was and is all about, American Revolution is a tome well worth sticking with until the end – even though we all know how it ends.
Or do we?
To paraphrase that great American poet and hopefully future Ken Burns subject Gil Scott-Heron: The American Revolution will be televised, and it will be well worth watching.
Maya Hawke joined her Inside Out 2 co-star Amy Poehler on the latter’s podcast Good Hang in a special sit-down where the duo discussed the movie’s billion-dollar impact.
Hawke played Anxiety in the Pixar sequel, and the character became an instant fan favorite, representing a new emotion that popped up as part of Riley’s coming-of-age journey. Joy (Poehler) and the rest of Riley’s more familiar emotions, meanwhile, had to grapple with their kid’s growth and impending teenagerhood in the film.
Inside Out 2 won so many hearts and filled movie theaters right when the industry—and seemingly the world at large—needed it the most. Hawke described the success of Inside Out 2 as a welcome surprise, “for something that makes a billion dollars and is good for the world; I don’t think there’s anything that does that.”
Poehler added, “The word ‘billion’ and ‘good for the world’ [don’t] go together.”
The duo attributed Inside Out 2‘s massive success to how its creative team focused on the multitudes a person can hold during adolescence, when so many things can feel so uncertain. However, anyone of any age can relate to holding space for a mix of feelings, as Hawke explained.
“The Joy-Anxiety relationship taught me a lot about showing love to that part of myself and allowing other people to see it so they can show it love,” she said. “A way to calm [your anxiety] down is inviting it into the conversation, looking at what it thinks and is worried about, and kind of addressing each point, and then offering it a comfortable chair and saying, ‘OK, you’re invited. I’m not trying to shut you out behind a door.’ Because that just works it up even more. The biggest thing I learned from doing this and being allowed to be welcomed into the beautiful world of this movie is to give my anxiety a comfy chair. I mean, anxiety might be the defining emotion of our time.”
Poehler agreed. “It was so fun to work on those characters together, because when the time is very scary, like these times, you want to find a way to tune in, check out, help yourself, and help other people. Like, you want to dip in and out. But when you’re just going, like, ‘toxic positivity,’ like, ‘this is great,’ it’s like, ‘Babe, things are bad. Things are real bad.’”
Hawke supplied, “Yes, then you still need to welcome in some [joy]. You’re not helping anybody if you shut out joy completely.”
Poehler pointed to a specific moment that resonated with her in Inside Out 2. “Riley, our character, has calmed herself down on the ice. She’s talked to her friends. She’s feeling a little bit like herself. She gets back on the ice. She starts skating. And Joy is being called back. And Anxiety does a little gesture of like ‘[right] this way.’ … It made me cry so hard. And I just thought, ‘Oh, like the tiny gesture of that is like what we must try to do during this bananas foster time we’re living in. Because that is whatever we can do, babe—to make room for each other.”
While the firstInside Out was a patently anti-San Francisco movie, the sequel has proven to perhaps be even less generous—dare one even say, actually crueler—toward the city by choosing to ignore its presence altogether. Although San Franciscans might have thought the presentation of their city couldn’t possibly be worse in the second movie than it was in the first, it has to be said that the full-stop refusal to acknowledge its existence is probably even more insulting. Because, apparently, so “non” is San Francisco at this point that the Inside Out 2 creators and animators—based, by the way, right near San Francisco “suburb” Emeryville—could barely bother to provide a few background scenes of the milieu as Riley Andersen (Kensington Tallman) is on the way to a weekend hockey camp.
And yes, for the rest of the movie after that brief scene of Riley’s parents, Mrs. Andersen (Diane Lane) and Mr. Andersen (Kyle MacLachlan), driving her to the camp with her friends, Grace (Grace Lu) and Bree (Sumayyah Nuriddin-Green), there is nary a sign of San Francisco anywhere. Unless one grasps at the straws of Riley wearing a “Bay Area Skills Camp” jersey. Although one might have anticipated more play for SF now that Riley is a teenager and is theoretically supposed to be coming into her own vis-à-vis exploring the city a little bit more independently than she used to, Inside Out 2 totally misses the opportunity to, at the very least, employ San Francisco for the task of ramping up Riley’s latest emotion to enter her puberty-fueled headspace: Anxiety.
Of course, this being a “kids’” movie, co-screenwriters Meg LeFauve (who also co-wrote the first movie) and Dave Holstein likely didn’t want to rock the boat too much in terms of what types of “stimuli” might prompt Riley to have an anxiety flare-up. Like, say, the sight of some zombie-esque homeless people hobbling toward her at a steady clip on the sidewalk. Or overhearing her parents talk about the unaffordability of the city and how maybe they, too, should join the others who supposedly comprise what is called the “California Exodus.” Indeed, that latter threat would surely send Anxiety into overdrive, seeing as how Riley has finally gotten her bearings in her formerly new city. The last thing she would want to do now is move to Austin, Texas (where all the Californians have reportedly disappeared to).
The total absence of any sense of place in Inside Out 2 is what marks the most noticeable change in the film’s “setup” after almost a decade has gone by. What it says probably has less to do with San Francisco and more to do with the fact that our entire existence is increasingly “lived” solely in non-places. This being the term coined by French anthropologist Marc Augé in his seminal work, Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity. It is in this work that Augé discusses the characteristics of the average non-place (e.g., supermarkets, airports, hotel rooms, metro stations and, in this case, hockey rinks): cold, clinical, lacking in any unique identifying characteristics. In short, it is a transitional space (sort of like adolescence itself) designed to evoke no sense of belonging whatsoever due to being devoid of any personal touches—what is known as “having character.”
When applied to the feeling—or, rather, “non-feeling”—that San Francisco evokes in Inside Out 2, it can perhaps be interpreted “poetically” in that Riley has never truly felt as though she belongs there. And now, with her only two friends abandoning her after the summer to attend a different high school, Riley is panicking all the more about her “sense of place,” about where, exactly, she’s supposed to fit in.
While some might say that San Francisco’s absence is “nothing personal,” or that the storyline of the sequel is intended to be less about the city and more about Riley’s fresh trials and tribulations as a teenager navigating the increasingly murky waters of friendship, it cannot be overlooked that where one lives as a teenager is a large part of what forms their emotions and identity. Needless to say, Riley would be a totally different person if she had remained in Minnesota. Excluding the more urban landscape of San Francisco from this new “snapshot” of her teenhood is, thus, an odd choice. Others still would posit that because the mind itself is the milieu in which Inside Out and Inside Out 2 take place, there’s not much need to incorporate a “real” environment. Fine, keep it “minimal” then—but don’t oust a tangible setting altogether. But, again, this likely doesn’t register with or bother that many people when taking into account that the majority is, at this juncture, well-accustomed to seeing and experiencing non-places. It just comes across as particularly shade-throwing that, now, San Francisco is a “non-place,” too. Not even worth making fun of anymore, as far as Inside Out 2 is concerned.
In the past, there would have at least been the usual mockery about how “generic” the city has become, how “corporatized.” Not just thanks to the long-ago tech infiltration, but as a result of the collective adherence to globalization itself. Everywhere is everywhere. But, in all honesty, that’s not really true of San Francisco, which still possesses its unique, indelible aspects—not least of which is its signature topography and landmarks. And, as the usual haters would waste no time in parroting, “All the homeless people!” The seemingly lone condemnation that detractors can think of to consistently lob at the Golden City (and yes, it is golden, despite what the naysayers might quip about that gold being of the “fool’s” variety). Either that or, where conservatives are concerned, it’s “too gay.” In fact, one of its other rotating nicknames is Gay Mecca. This perhaps being yet another reason that Inside Out 2 opted to shirk San Francisco altogether during Riley’s teen years. After all, what if Riley is a lesbian? San Francisco is the perfect place to unearth such a sexual revelation. But, in terms of including SF in all its (gay) glory for a teenager, Pixar seemed to be channeling Regina George insisting, “I couldn’t have a lesbian at my party. There were gonna be girls there in their bathing suits.”
Whatever the reason (or “non-reason”) for choosing to give San Francisco absolutely no play apart from tacking on three arbitrary exteriors (including, of course, the Golden Gate Bridge) during the credits, it seems that the opinion of the town is so low at the moment that Pixar favored largely disavowing its presence entirely. And, as Oscar Wilde said, “There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.” Thus, San Francisco’s (non-)representation in Inside Out 2 is what makes the movie even harsher toward the city than Inside Out.
The world was a vastly different place nine years ago, when the first Inside Out was released. Though, at the time, it might have felt like a world that was dangerous and unsafe for children to grow up and develop in, the truth is, they were probably better off doing so in 2015 than they would be in 2024 (good luck to the sociopaths that have to do that now). And so, yes, 2024 feels like the “perfect” moment to introduce a “new” emotion to Inside Out 2: Anxiety! Of course, even though nearly a decade has passed since last we saw Riley Andersen (voiced by Kaitlyn Dias in the original, and presently, Kensington Tallman), she’s still only just now turning thirteen. Better known to most parents (and teachers…or anyone else subjected to the horrors of interacting with a teenager) as: the Scary Age.
Incidentally, “Terror” doesn’t appear as a more nuanced emotion than “Fear” in the complex range of new ones that are rolled out with a brand-new console that gets installed by the “mind workers” the night before Riley “hits puberty.” A previously uncharted era during which, suddenly, the limited range of five primary emotions—Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Fear (Tony Hale), Disgust (Liza Lapira) and Anger (Lewis Black)—are hardly sufficient enough to convey all the confusing, disordered feelings Riley is having at any given moment now that she’s thirteen. Enter Anxiety (Maya Hawke), the key emotion freshly presented into the fray that best encapsulates all those crippling, inexplicable sentiments that go hand-in-hand with an increasing fixation on social status. Granted, Anxiety isn’t alone in terms of being part of a new burst of emotions that only get introduced once a person enters teenhood. Especially when that person is a girl.
Thus, she is joined by Ennui (Adèle Exarchopoulos), Embarrassment (Paul Walter Hauser) and Envy (Ayo Edebiri). For a brief instant, even a new emotion called Nostalgia (June Squibb) pops out, stylized as an old lady with glasses. But Anxiety tell her she’s much too early to be there, and she’s promptly sent away from headquarters. Unfortunately, Joy has to admit that Anxiety does seem, in contrast, to be right on time—to know much more about Riley’s new set of concerns and worries than Joy does. And yet, that doesn’t stop Joy from fretting over the fact that Anxiety is negatively impacting the meticulously crafted “Sense of Self” that Riley currently has…thanks to some clever manipulations from Joy via filing memories with unpleasant associations to the back of her mind. Which is for Riley’s “own good,” of course. In fact, all Joy wants is for Riley to think and feel that she’s that wonderful thing: a good person.
Alas, as someone becomes a teenager, all sense of “goodness” tends to go out the window if it means interfering with how that adolescent wants to be perceived. And, no matter how much time goes by or what changes occur in technology, how a teen always wants to be perceived is: cool. Accepted. Well-liked. Best of all, popular. For while Gen Z might think such concerns went the way of the dodo after millennial teenhood, it’s still very much alive and well on an even worse scale thanks to social media and its impact on self-esteem. Riley is a victim of her own intense desire to feel embraced by an older group of girls once she learns that her best friends, Grace (Grace Lu) and Bree (Sumayyah Nuriddin-Green), are going to be attending a different high school when the summer is over.
And so, instead of seeing the hockey camp they’re invited to attend (and as the only junior highers, to boot) as an opportunity for a last hurrah together, Riley, under Anxiety’s so-called guidance, takes it as a chance to gain the favor of a popular star player named Val Ortiz (Lilimar). And, when Val actually seems to take a liking to Riley despite how awkward and socially inept she is (in the 00s, Riley is the girl who would have been freely referred to as a “spaz”), the latter can’t help but jump at the chance to “rebrand” in order to better fit in with Val and her older crew of friends.
Horrified at the way Riley is ignoring the carefully crafted “Sense of Self” Joy worked so hard to create, she can’t understand that Anxiety is part of a larger phenomenon that comes with growing up (particularly in a world that, increasingly, prides itself on desensitizing youths): kindness and empathy being stamped out, your heart dying. This being the very accurate and eloquent phrase Allison Reynolds (Ally Sheedy) from The Breakfast Club wields when she laments, “When you grow up, your heart dies.” An aphorism delivered in reply to Andrew Clark’s (Emilio Estevez) question of whether or not they would become like their parents (that is to say, assholes). Allison also insists, “It’s unavoidable. Just happens.” For Riley, she might not be becoming like her wholesome, largely checked-out parents, per se, but she is becoming more impervious to the notion of “morality.” Of whether or not what’s “good” is necessarily good for her.
Anxiety only serves to fan those flames of sociopathy, prompting Riley to do whatever it takes to achieve “her” goals (though, all along, one has to ask: are they really “hers” or merely what she thinks should be hers due to societal and peer pressures?). In this case, getting onto the Firehawks team as a freshman so that she can have a secured group of friends in her teammates, including Val. When the other girls tell Riley that Coach Roberts (Yvette Nicole Brown) always holds a scrimmage on the last day of camp and it’s what ended up getting Val on the team as a freshman, Anxiety sends Riley into peak panic mode about doing well enough the next day so that the coach puts her on the team for next year. Of course, Val tells her that all she has to do is stop stressing and “be herself.”
In response to that notion, Envy asks Anxiety a fair (and slightly philosophical) question: “How do we be ourself if our ‘self’ isn’t ready yet?” Anxiety, ever the “problem-solver,” reacts by putting more anxiety-ridden memories into the Sense of Self bank that will supposedly propel Riley to act in a way that secures the best possible future. Naturally, what Anxiety doesn’t understand is that Riley won’t be securing much of anything if she’s a tightly-wound ball of panic that can barely function because of all her crippling worries. Nonetheless, Anxiety can’t be bothered with considering how she’s actually hurting Riley, remarking to Envy, “I wish we knew what Coach thought about us.” It’s then that, while Riley is just trying to fucking sleep that Anxiety plants the idea in her head to sneak into the coach’s office and look at the notebook where she writes down all of her “hot takes” about the players. Thus, Riley commits yet another act that goes against what Joy would call her true Sense of Self (even if it was manipulated by Joy): breaking and entering. Oh, an obtaining information that’s supposed to be “confidential” by any means necessary.
As Anxiety has turned Riley into someone she isn’t—someone whose core Sense of Self repeats, “I’m not good enough”—Joy and her “follower emotions” finally make it to the back of Riley’s mind, where the Sense of Self Joy had originally created was exiled by Anxiety. Initially relieved to have recovered the trophy-looking structure, Joy can’t help but take notice of the literal mountain of bad memories she’s stockpiled back here, in a place that suppresses what Riley’s true self might actually be. And when she calls upon Sadness to launch them back to headquarters through the pipe Joy built to jettison those bad memories there in the first place, Anxiety manages to destroy the pipe so that Joy and co. are stuck there. Needless to say, this smacks of the same pickle Joy was in during the first Inside Out, when she got booted into the Memory Dump—a location of the mind where any memories that get deposited there are doomed to fade out for good. Feeling hopeless and defeated, she can no longer even fake a plucky attitude to the other emotions, telling them, “I don’t know how to stop Anxiety. Maybe we can’t. Maybe this is what happens when you grow up. You feel less Joy.” In other words, “When you grow up, your heart dies.”
This is exactly why so many memes about Riley as an adult have come about in the wake of Inside Out 2. For example, Depression as an emotion stamping out all the other ones. Or alcohol being used to briefly chase the emotion of Euphoria before it quickly disappears. And yes, it’s obviously true that there’s no place for Joy in the adult mind. Her presence becoming nothing but one of those faded memories in the Memory Dump (this is perhaps why that incident in Inside Out was nothing more than foreshadowing for Joy’s inevitable disappearance during Riley’s adulthood).
And yet, none of the adults involved in the making of Inside Out 2—and certainly none of the adults who control the system in place—would ever stop and think that perhaps there’s something very, very wrong with how it’s simply accepted that to grow up is to experience the death of Joy. The loss of “heart” a.k.a. any sense of humanity. And all in the name of getting “ahead.” As Anxiety phrased it, “It’s not about who Riley is, it’s about who she needs to be.” But why does anyone “need” to become an asshole in this life? To adhere to the subjugating “tenets” of capitalism, duh.
Maya Hawke has addressed the “nepo baby” phenomenon head on, saying the reason she was cast in a big film role was totally for “nepotistic reasons.”
Hawke, the daughter of Uma Thurman and Ethan Hawke, was cast by Quentin Tarantino in his 2019 movie Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood. Hawke played Flower Child, one of Charles Manson’s followers, and at the time gave an interview saying she auditioned for the role.
She added that Tarantino deliberately added her to the cast, which also included Margaret Qualley (Andie MacDowell’s daughter) and Rumer Willis (daughter of Demi Moore and Bruce Willis), and that he was making an effort to “cast a lot of young Hollywood.”
Asked whether she thought famous off-spring deserved these kinds of leg-up opportunities, Hawke said:
“‘Deserves’ is a complicated word. There are so many people who deserve to have this kind of life who don’t, but I think I’m comfortable with not deserving it and doing it anyway. And I know that my not doing it wouldn’t help anyone. I saw two paths when I was first starting, and one of them was: change your name, get a nose job and go to open casting roles.
“It’s OK to be made fun of when you’re in rarefied air. It’s a lucky place to be. My relationships with my parents are really honest and positive, and that supersedes anything anyone can say about it.”
Hawke has recently worked with both of her parents on screen. She played opposite Thurman in The Kill Room, and starred in Wildcat, a biopic about writer Flannery O’Connor, directed by Ethan Hawke.
LOS ANGELES—With the child of Hollywood royalty clinching the role through the sheer force of genetics, the trailer for the new Pixar animated feature Inside Out 2 revealed this week that Maya Hawke will be voicing a new character called Nepotism. “We’re so lucky to have Maya playing a character who is spunky, possesses zero self-awareness, and is the pure embodiment of vanity and favoritism,” said director Kelsey Mann, explaining that the daughter of actors Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman beat out both Lily-Rose Depp and Emma Roberts as the most-connected person for the role. “The little orange being voiced by Maya is the most privileged character in the film, and her wants and desires will always take precedence over the other emotions. In a way, she is meant to represent the little voice inside of all of us that says, ‘I’ll never have to strive for anything because my parents will take care of everything for me.’” According to studio insiders, Maya’s father makes a cameo in the movie as a teacher who gives her license to do whatever she wants.
Uma Thurman and Maya Hawke’s latest appearance proves great style must run in the family. The famous mother and daughter, who are both actors, recently attended the Room to Grow gala in New York City on Oct. 25 wearing similar all-black looks. Between their matching outfits and pulled-back hairstyles, the resemblance was striking.
Thurman wore a cape over an ankle-length column dress featuring long sleeves and a slit in the front. She paired the sleek outfit with pointed-toe pumps, an envelope clutch, diamond drop earrings, and a crescent-moon brooch, which peeked out under her coat. Hawke, meanwhile, wore a button-front jacket, pleated trousers, pumps, and a Prada handbag.
Hawke is an ambassador for Prada, and recently appeared in its latest holiday campaign. Hawke’s family has a special history with the fashion house, and one of Thurman’s most defining red carpet looks is the lavender Prada dress she wore to the 1995 Oscars, where she was nominated for her role in “Pulp Fiction.” The appearance boosted sales and spawned many dupes. Prada had been around for many decades by that point, but it certainly helped lead to its it-girl prominence in the 1990s and subsequent years.
Hawke and Thurman attended the “Asteroid City” premiere together in June, where Hawke’s siblings Levon Roan Thurman-Hawke and Luna Thurman-Busson were also in attendance. In previous years, the mother-daughter duo have attended a variety of glamorous events including the 2018 Met Gala and a Miu Miu resort show in 2015.
“Yes, I’m a nepo father,” Ethan Hawke cracked at the world premiere of Wildcat in Telluride, bright and early on Friday morning. The Oscar- and Tony-nominee wanted to get the obvious out of the way: Perhaps his most cinematically ambitious film as a director was starring his daughter, Maya Hawke, in by far the biggest role in her career. Wildcat marked the result of years of talking about Flannery O’Connor between the two, going back to Maya’s audition for Juilliard. (She prepared a monologue out of O’Connor’s famous letters, and was accepted.) So the crowd laughed at the joke, then settled in for a rich, layered, elliptical take on the iconic and now-controversial author—one that turned out to be more of a family affair than even the dual Hawke credits could’ve revealed alone.
Credit Laura Linney for that. Linney has known Ethan Hawke for decades; they starred together in the latter’s Broadway debut, The Seagull, in 1992, and have been close friends and occasional collaborators ever since. Ethan’s decision to cast her as Flannery’s—and Maya’s—mother holds intense significance, as does his narrative focus on the complex and tight bond between the two women. The film argues that a great deal of O’Connor’s radical, groundbreaking qualities as a writer are rooted in her upbringing in Georgia, both her connection to the South and her frustration at some of its stifling attitudes. A sense of memoir between the Hawkes and Linney seeps into the material. They each brought their ideas, sensibilities, and particular talents to the film, culminating in a singular collaboration.
That’s most evident when I meet the trio at a nearby café, sitting under the Colorado clouds at an outside table. There’s joy and curiosity and maybe a bit of anticipation for the first reactions to the smart, tricky Wildcat—which interweaves O’Connor’s biography with reenactments of her short stories, with Hawke, Linney, and other actors stepping into multiple roles. We get into a deep, often funny chat about what these three artists mean to each other, and how they brought all that to this film. (Wildcat is currently seeking U.S. distribution and has secured a SAG-AFTRA interim agreement, meaning the striking guild has permitted its stars to promote the film.)
Vanity Fair:Maya, you brought this idea to Ethan, to write and direct a film about Flannery O’Connor. What was your discovery process with O’Connor’s work, and what made you think of your dad as the filmmaker for this?
Maya Hawke: I went to a wonderful high school that had teachers who got to choose their own curriculum, and I had a wonderful teacher named Ben Runner who assigned Flannery to me. I really liked him and wanted to impress him, so I went and found A Prayer Journal so that I could be like, “Not only did I read the recommended reading, but I did find this other book and I thought I’d talk about it.” It started there. I really connected to her desire and ambition and her self-doubt and her fear and the way that those things interacted with her desire to work…. And it felt connected to my dad. He’s always talked about his relationship with his own religion and coming from, in some ways, a religious Southern background.
Ethan Hawke: The more you say that, the happier your grandparents will be.
Maya: He’d been showing me Thomas Merton and Emerson all of these different things my whole life, these different ways of looking at and examining one’s relationship to God. It was fun for me to be like, “Oh, I have this thing, A Prayer Journal, and we can add it to that conversation about Merton and Emerson and keep talking.” You know, because every girl wants to impress her father with esoteric religious southern gothic American writers. [Laughs]
Ethan: It worked on me.
Clearly. So she brings all this passion to you. What was your reaction to her pitch, and how did you envision the movie?
Ethan: Even as you hear her talk right now—it’s like, I come at directing as an actor. That’s how I learned about directing is by being directed by bad directors, okay directors, great directors.. And one of the things that really good directors do is they follow an actor’s passion. If Kevin Kline comes to you and says, “I want to play Falstaff badly. And you’re a theater director. I got a good idea for you. Why don’t you direct Henry IV?” That’s going to go well for you. When an actor has a passion and a fire, that’s a great place to start, and this actor happens to know me really well and know what I’m interested in. I absorbed what she said, and I started seeing the possibility of making a movie about imagination and the nature of, “What is the intersection between human creativity and faith and imagination and reality?” Some strange equation using Flannery O’Connor as a launchpad for that exploration. And she thought that was a good idea.
And then I called Laura and I explained that to her, and Laura said, “I think that’s a good idea too. Let’s try to do that.” The wheels start turning and everybody starts working: “Well, not this, not that. No, not like that. Oh, I don’t like biopics.” This thing evolves and turns into something you screen at 9:00 AM at Telluride on top of a mountain.
A palpable shift has occurred in Wes Anderson’s style and tone since the release of 2021’s The French Dispatch. One doesn’t want to use a cliché like “mature” to describe what’s been happening since that perceptible tonal pivot in his filmography, so perhaps the better way to “define” what’s happening to Anderson and his storytelling is that it’s gotten, as Cher Horowitz would note, “Way existential.” Not to say there wasn’t that element to some degree in previous films, but now, it’s amplified—ratcheted up to a maximum that was never there before. Some might proffer it’s because Anderson has transitioned to a new era of his life, therefore possesses a greater concern with mortality; others could posit that our world and society has become so fragile in the years since 2020, that even privileged white men have been rattled by it enough to let it color their work. Whatever the case, the increased focus on mortality and “the meaning of life” in Anderson’s oeuvre is no surprise considering one of his greatest directorial influences is Woody Allen. Yes, he might be cancelled, but that doesn’t change the effect he’s had on Anderson.
Of course, Anderson has managed to take the puerility of Allen’s lead characters and render them “quirky,” “oddball” and “postmodern” instead. What’s more, Anderson has the “marketing sense” not to make his characters come across as “too Jewy,” lest it “scandalize” the often white bread audiences he tends to attract. Some might argue that Asteroid City is his whitest offering yet—which is really saying something. And yes, like Allen, Anderson has begun to favor the “screenwriting technique” of setting his movies in the past, so as not to have to deal with the “vexing” and “unpleasant” complications of trying to address post-woke culture in his casting and narrative decisions. Defenders of Anderson would bite back by remarking that the director creates alternate worlds in general, and should be left to do his own thing without being subjected to the “moral” and “ethical” issues presented by “modern filmmaking requirements.” For the most part, that’s remained the case, even as occasional hemming-and-hawing about his “movies so white” shtick crops up when he releases a new film. But to those who will follow Anderson anywhere, the trip to Asteroid City does prove to be worth it. If for no other reason than to show us the evolution of an auteur when he’s left alone, permitted to be creative without letting the outside voices and noise fuck with his head.
In many regards, the “town” (or rather, desert patch with a population of eighty-seven) is a representation of the same bubble Anderson exists in whenever he writes and directs something. To the point of writing, Anderson returns to the meta exploration of what it means to create on the page (as he did for The French Dispatch), anchored by the playwright Conrad Earp (Edward Norton). Although he’s not one of the more heavily featured characters, without him, none of the characters we’re seeing perform a televised production of Asteroid City would exist. If that sounds too meta already, it probably is. With the host (Bryan Cranston) of an anthology TV series serving as our guide, the movie commences in black and white as he stares into the camera and proceeds to do his best impersonation of Rod Serling at the beginning of The Twilight Zone. Indeed, it’s clear Anderson wants to allude to these types of TV anthology series that were so popular in the post-war Golden Age of Television. And even on the radio, as Orson Welles showcased in 1938, with his adaptation of The War of the Worlds. A broadcast that caused many listeners to panic about an alien invasion, unaware that it wasn’t real. In fact, Cranston as the host is sure to forewarn his viewers, “Asteroid City does not exist. It is an imaginary drama created expressly for this broadcast.” That warning comes with good reason, for people in the 50s were easily susceptible to being bamboozled by whatever was presented to them on the then-new medium of TV. Because, “If it’s on TV, it must be true.” And the last thing anyone wanted to believe—then as much as now—is that there could be life on other planets. Sure, it sounds “neato” in theory, but, in reality, Earthlings are major narcissists who want to remain the lone “stars” of the interplanetary show.
Set in September of 1955, Asteroid City centers its narrative on a Junior Stargazer convention, where five students will be honored for their excellence in astronomy and astronomy-related innovations. Among those five are Woodrow (Jake Ryan), Shelly (Sophia Lillis), Ricky (Ethan Josh Lee), Dinah (Grace Edwards) and Clifford (Aristou Meehan). It’s Woodrow who arrives to town first, courtesy of his war photographer father, Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman). Although they’ve arrived to their destination, Augie still has to take the broken-down car to the mechanic (Matt Dillon). After much fanfare and tinkering, The Mechanic concludes that the car is kaput. Augie decides to phone his father-in-law, Stanley Zak (Tom Hanks), to come pick up Woodrow and Augie’s three daughters, Andromeda (Ella Faris), Pandora (Gracie Faris) and Cassiopeia (Willan Faris). Stanley doesn’t immediately agree, instead opting to remind Augie that he was never good enough for his daughter (played briefly, in a way, by Margot Robbie) and that he ought to tell his children that their mother died. Three weeks ago, to be exact. But withholding this information is just one of many ways in which Augie parades his emotional stuntedness. Something that ultimately enchants Hollywood actress Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson), who also happens to be the mother of another Junior Stargazer, Dinah.
All the while, the vibrant, almost fake-looking set seems there solely to reiterate that all vibrancy is belied by something darker beneath it. That was never truer than in postwar America. And talking of vibrant cinematography and explosions, if Barbie’s color palette had a baby with Oppenheimer’s explosive content, you’d get Asteroid City (which, again, features Margot “Barbie” Robbie herself). With regard to explosions, it bears noting that the intro to the movie includes a train plugging along, bound for Asteroid City carrying all manner of bounty: avocados, pecans and, oh yes, a ten-megaton nuclear warhead with the disclaimer: “Caution: DO NOT DETONATE without Presidential Approval.” So much about that wide array of “transported goods” speaks to the very dichotomy of American culture. Priding itself on being a land of plenty while also doing everything in its power to self-destruct all that natural wealth. What’s more, the presence of hazardous material on trains is only too relevant considering the recent tragedy that befell East Palestine, Ohio. And yet, these are the sorts of environmentally-damaging behaviors that were set in motion in the postwar economic boom of America. Complete with the “miracle” of Teflon.
Accordingly, it’s no coincidence that as the “progress” associated with modern life accelerated at a rate not seen since the first Industrial Revolution, some were concerned about the potential fallout of such “development.” After all, with technological advancement could arise as many inconveniences as conveniences (see also: AI). For those who came of age after the so-called war to end all wars, a natural skepticism vis-à-vis “advancement” was also to be expected. Perhaps the fear of modern existence, with all the implications of war and invasion being “leveled up” due to “better” technology (i.e., the atomic bomb), planted the seed of suddenly seeing flying saucers all the time starting in the 40s and 50s. A phenomenon that many government officials were keen to write off as being somehow related to atomic testing (this being why the Atomic Age is so wrapped up in the alien sightings craze of the 50s). The sudden collective sightings might also have been a manifestation of the inherent fear of what all this “progress” could do. Especially when it came to increasing the potential for interplanetary contact. For it was also in the 50s that the great “space race” began—spurred by nothing more than the competitive, dick-swinging nature of the Cold War between the U.S. and USSR. That was all it took to propel a “they’re among us” and “hiding in plain sight” mentality, one that was frequently preyed upon by the U.S. government via the Red Scare. Such intense fear- and paranoia-mongering does fuck with the mind, you know. Enough to make it see things that may or may not really be there (literally and figuratively). The term “alien,” therefore, meaning “foreigner” or “other” as much as extraterrestrial as the 50s wore on.
So it was that Americans did what they always do best with fear: monetize it! To be sure, Asteroid City itself only exists to commodify the terror of an asteroid hitting Earth and leaving such a great impact thousands of years ago. Then, when news of an alien infiltrating the Junior Stargazer convention leaks, a fun fair materializes to sell merch (“Alien Gifts Sold Here”) related to commemorating the “event.” As such, the train that goes to Asteroid City suddenly becomes the “Alien Special” and there’s now “Alien Parking,” as well as signs declaring, “Asteroid City U.F.O.” and “Spacecraft Sighting.” With this American zeal for exploitation in mind, plus the alien element, there’s even a certain Nope vibe at play throughout Asteroid City as well. And a dash of Don’t Worry Darling, to boot. Mainly because of the unexplained sonic booms that go on in the background while the housewives are trying to kiki.
Anderson extracts the paranoia element that might have been present in films of the day (like Flying Saucers Attack!) and instead relates the discovery of an alien life form to the added feeling of being insignificant as a human in this universe. To highlight that point, J.J. Kellogg (Liev Schreiber), father to Junior Stargazer Clifford, demands of his son’s escalating antics related to performing unasked dares, “Why do you always have to dare something?” He replies meekly, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid otherwise nobody’ll notice my existence in the universe.” To be sure, the reason most people behave obnoxiously is to get the kind of attention that will convince themselves they matter. They mean something in this grand abyss.
Even Midge, a movie star, feels mostly unseen. So when Augie takes her picture in such an intimate way, she can’t help but feel allured by him. Seen by him. That, in the end, is what everyone wants. In the spirit of alluding to 50s Americana, Midge herself seems to be a loose representation of Marilyn Monroe, also prone to pills and alcohol, and constantly referred to as a brilliant comedienne despite flying under the radar as such. Then there’s another six degrees of Marilyn separation when Willem Dafoe appears as Saltzburg Keitel, an overt homage to Elia Kazan and his Actors Studio—a version of which we see when Earp shows up to a class to try to get insight on how to convey a certain scene. And yes, the concern with whether or not the acting in the play is being done “right” keeps coming up, reaching a crest as a metaphor for what Asteroid City is all about: what is anyone’s place in the universe? Does any of it mean anything? So yeah, again with the Woody Allen influence.
Toward the end of the play/movie, Jones Hall, the actor playing Augie, asks Schubert Green (Adrien Brody), the director, “Do I just keep doing it?” He could be asking about his performance as much as his very existence itself. Schubert assures, “Yes.” Jones continues, “Without knowing anything? Isn’t there supposed to be some kind of answer out there in the cosmic wilderness?” When Jones then admits, “I still don’t understand the play,” that phrase “the play” doubles just as easily for “life.” Schubert insists, “Doesn’t matter. Just keep telling the story.” In other words, just keep rolling the dice and living as though any of it means anything at all.
And maybe nihilism, for some people, is part of compartmentalizing that meaninglessness. This much appears to be the case for Midge, who tells Augie stoically, “I think I know now what I realize we are… Two catastrophically wounded people who don’t express the depths of their pain because…we don’t want to. That’s our connection.” But a connection is a connection—and that’s all anyone on Earth is really looking—starving—for…no matter how many decades fly by and how many according “advancements” are made. It’s likely the convention-interrupting alien could sense and see that desperation among the humans during his brief landing.
So it is that Augie tells Midge afterward, “I don’t like the way that guy looked at us, the alien.” Midge inquires, “How did he look?” “Like we’re doomed.” Midge shrugs, “Maybe we are.” “Maybe” being a polite euphemism for “definitely.” But even though we are, maybe the art will make sense of it all in the end. Even if only to “just keep telling the story.” For posterity. For whoever—or whatever—might come across the ruins and relics in the future. Hopefully, they’ll learn from the mistakes that we ourselves didn’t.
When she walked the carpet in Cannes last week, Maya Hawke embraced a bright color palette that left no question that she was happy to spend time in the world of Wes Anderson. The director’s newest film, Asteroid City, is set in an unnamed Southwestern town in the 1950s, and playing teacher June Douglas, Hawke was able to embrace a bit of schoolmarm chic in pastels.
But when the film premiered in Cannes last week, she wore a custom Prada look that transported Asteroid City to the French Riviera, and it left her literally pirouetting down the red carpet with her costar Rupert Friend. Her chartreuse gown has a classic mid-century silhouette, but it’s updated with what Hawke calls a “classic, tough, modern Prada twist,” in the form of a stiff, angular bodice. Her look, styled by Harry Lambert, also included blue opera gloves, white go-go boots, and stunning jewels by Chopard. Her hairstylist, John Nollet, gave her a polished shoulder-length bob, and dramatic eye makeup by Emma Day gave the look a rock-and-roll edge.
Photography from Julian Ungano/Prada
After the premiere, Hawke said she doesn’t have too many traditions when it comes to the glam. “I wish I had more rituals. I’ve never been good at that,” she says. “The getting dressed up and having your picture taken has never been my favorite part. But getting to work with wonderful brands like Prada and having good friends do your hair and makeup makes the whole thing a bit less nerve wracking.”
Asteroid City has an all-star ensemble cast and was filmed in fall 2021, when the cast and crew were living with strict COVID-19 protocols. Despite the restrictions, Hawke says she relished the experience of working on the film and hoped that translates to the audience. “My experience making and seeing Asteroid City was the best of my life,” she says. “I can’t imagine that the people who get to see it this summer will have a lesser reaction. It’s timely, topical, and somehow also healing and joyful.”
:quality(85):upscale()/2023/10/26/880/n/1922564/06cc4933653ac6f8cc1964.47311359_.jpg)
