WHAT DID SON SAY WHEN THE FAMILY LOOKED AT HIM ACCUSINGLY?

"IT IS NOT MY FAULT, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME TO LOOK THERE!"

"I DIDN'T WANT TO WATCH TV ANYWAY!"

"I FOOLED YOU! I HID IT THERE!"

WHY DID MOM THINK THE TV REMOTE CONTROL MIGHT BE IN THE BATHROOM?

MAYBE ONE OF THE CHILDREN CARRIED IT IN AND LEFT IT IN THERE

MAYBE A STRANGER THING CARRIED IT IN AND LEFT IT IN THERE

MAYBE DAD CARRIED IT IN AND LEFT IT IN THERE

MAYBE DOG CARRIED IT IN AND LEFT IT IN THERE

WHEN DAUGHTER CAME INTO THE ROOM AFTER THE LIGHT FLASHED, WHAT DID SHE ASK MOM?

"I SAW THE LIGHT FLASH, IS THE PHONE FOR ME?"

"I SAW THE LIGHT FLASH, IS THE PHONE NOT FOR ME?"

"I SAW THE LIGHT FLASH, IS THE PHONE FOR DAD?"

"I SAW THE LIGHT FLASH, IS THE PHONE FOR YOU?"

WHEN MOM FOUND DAD N THE BATHROOM, WHAT WAS HE DOING?

LOOKING FOR THE REMOTE IN THE TUB

LOOKING FOR THE REMOTE BEHIND THE TOILET

LOOKING FOR THE REMOTE IN THE CUPBOARD

LOOKING FOR THE REMOTE IN THE TOILET

DAUGHTER IS STILL ON THE PHONE WHEN MOM PASSES HER. WHAT DOES MOM TELL HER?

"TIME TO END YOUR PHONE CONVERSATION"

"LET ME TALK TO YOUR FRIEND'S MOM"

"SAY HELLO TO YOUR FRIEND FOR ME"

"TIME TO TAKE THE DOG FOR A WALK"

WHERE DID THE FAMILY FIND THE REMOTE CONTROL?

UNDER THE COUCH CUSHION IN THE LIVING ROOM

UNDER THE COUCH IN THE DINING ROOM

UNDER THE COUCH CUSHION IN THE DINING ROOM

UNDER THE COUCH IN THE LIVING ROOM

WHERE'S THE TV REMOTE?

News Opinion Sport Culture Lifestyle Show more Books Music TV & radio Art & design Film Games Classical Stage ‘Hollywood doesn’t do very much of that business, they have the nice sign, and everything’s good, but they don’t do very much,’ said Trump. View image in fullscreen ‘Hollywood doesn’t do very much of that business, they have the nice sign, and everything’s good, but they don’t do very much,’ said Trump. Photograph: Lucy Nicholson/Reuters Film ‘I’m not trying to hurt the industry’: Trump softens tone on movie tariffs California governor Gavin Newsom announces a $7.5bn tax incentive scheme as Trump’s announcement of 100% tariffs on films ‘produced in foreign lands’ is mocked by Jimmy Kimmel and Fallon Andrew Pulver Tue 6 May 2025 11.24 BST Share Donald Trump appears to be softening his tone after widespread dismay in Hollywood and further afield at his bombshell announcement of 100% tariffs on films “produced in foreign lands”, saying he was “not looking to hurt the industry”. In remarks reported by CNBC, Trump said he was planning to discuss the plan with film industry leaders. “I’m not looking to hurt the industry, I want to help the industry.” He added: “So we’re going to meet with the industry. I want to make sure they’re happy with it because we’re all about jobs.” Trump also took aim again at California state governor Gavin Newsom, saying the film industry “has been decimated by other countries taking them out, and also by incompetence, like in Los Angeles, the governor [Gavin Newsom] is a grossly incompetent man, he’s just allowed it to be taken away from”. Trump added: “Hollywood doesn’t do very much of that business, they have the nice sign, and everything’s good, but they don’t do very much.” Trump’s talk of film tariffs makes no sense, but it’s already doing damage – to Hollywood Peter Bradshaw Peter Bradshaw Read more Newsom responded with a statement saying: “Governor Newsom continues to champion California’s iconic film and television industry – recognising it as a cornerstone of the state’s economy, one that sustains hundreds of thousands of good-paying jobs across every sector around the state.” “His plan to more than double the state’s film and television tax credit reflects a commitment to keeping production here at home, supporting workers and maintaining California’s global leadership in entertainment. If the President announces a proposal with more details, we will review it.” Newsom had earlier responded to Trump’s announcement by proposing a $7.5bn federal tax incentive scheme, saying in a statement to Variety: “Building on our successful state program, we’re eager to partner with the Trump administration to further strengthen domestic production.” Tax incentive schemes in the US currently operate on a state-by-state basis, and Newsom had announced a plan in April to boost California’s to $750m. California senator Adam Schiff also condemned Trump’s tariff proposal while backing calls for a federal tax credit scheme, saying in a statement: “Blanket tariffs on all films would have unintended and potentially damaging impacts, [but] we have an opportunity to work together to pass a major federal film tax credit to re-shore American jobs in the industry.” Late night TV hosts Jimmy Kimmel and Jimmy Fallon also joined the chorus of dismay and bafflement at Trump’s plan. Commenting that Trump was “now aiming his wrecking ball at Hollywood”, Kimmel questioned whether foreign-made movies were a “national security threat” as Trump claimed. “I don’t care where they’re made. I really don’t. I guess it’s what the late, great Hannibal Lecter would’ve wanted. Sonic, the illegal immigrant hedgehog, is a national security threat and he must be stopped!” Kimmel also mocked actor Jon Voight’s role in Trump’s thinking, saying: “This is where he reportedly got the tariff movies idea – from Angelina Jolie’s 86-year-old father she won’t talk to. What a great idea. Next year, The White Lotus is gonna be set at a Hampton Inn.” Fallon also took aim at Trump’s implication that foreign locations were somehow taboo, saying: “Gonna be fun seeing the next Lord of the Rings filmed in Bayonne, New Jersey,” adding: “If you don’t like that, you can also watch Emily in Des Moines [instead of Emily in Paris]. It’s just as charming.” Explore more on these topics Film Film industry Donald Trump Trump tariffs Gavin Newsom Jimmy Kimmel Jimmy Fallon news Share Reuse this content Most viewed Live German parliament votes again on Merz’s bid to be chancellor after humiliating first round – Europe live Trump and Carney to meet at White House in closely watched encounter Mushroom lunch’s sole surviving guest details deadly meal and its aftermath as trial of Erin Patterson continues ‘It’s the misogyny slop ecosystem!’ How Candace Owens and the American right declared war on Blake Lively Wisconsin woman missing for more than 60 years found ‘alive and well’

Auteur Theory is a way of looking at films that state that the director is the “author” of a film. A film is a reflection of the director’s artistic vision; so, a movie directed by a given filmmaker will have recognizable, recurring themes and visual queues that inform the audience who the director is (think a Hitchcock or Tarantino film) and shows a consistent artistic identity throughout that director’s filmography. The 3 Components of Auteur Theory Andrew Sarris, film critic for The New York Times, expanded on Truffaut’s writing and set out a more comprehensive definition for auteurs according to three main criteria: technical competence, distinguishable personality, and interior meaning. 1. Technical competence: Auteurs must be at the top of their craft in terms of technical filmmaking abilities. Auteurs always have a hand in multiple components of filmmaking and should be operating at a high level across the board. 2. Distinguishable personality: What separates auteurs from other technically gifted directors is their unmistakable personality and style. When looking at an auteur’s collected works, you can generally see shared filming techniques and consistent themes being explored. One of the primary tenets of auteur theory is that auteurs make movies that are unmistakably theirs. This is in sharp contrast with the standard studio directors of the era who were simply translating script to screen with little interrogation of the source material or editorial input. 3. Interior meaning: Auteurs make films that have layers of meaning and have more to say about the human condition. Films made by auteurs go beyond the pure entertainment-oriented spectacles produced by large studios, to instead reveal the filmmakers unique perspectives and ruminations on life. https://www.masterclass.com/articles/film-101-what-is-an-auteur#3ClNjwO6Gkgjd8ix2Cm5qI Who is the author of a TV program? It seems like it ought to be an easy question to answer, but it is not. There are, of course, scriptwriters, who are the literal authors of episodes in the sense of generating words that an actor eventually speaks, but in a soap opera or a sitcom there may be a dozen or more scriptwriters working on dialogue as the months go by. Is any one of them truly responsible for the overall tenor of the show, or are they just following rigid guidelines set down by other scriptwriters ahead of them? And the script is just the blueprint of an episode anyway. Actors, production designers, directors, videographers, editors, and on and on, are all necessary to construct an episode from that blueprint. Should we call one of them the author? And, at a more basic level, should we even bother looking for authors in television? Do viewers need to know who created a program in order to enjoy it? What does it add to our appreciation or understanding of television if we assign authorship of a program to an individual? In the closely related medium of the cinema, questions such as these have been answered by the auteur theory, which stems from the French word for “author,” auteur. Its basic precept is that a single individual is, and should be, the “author” of a work in order for it to be a good, artistically valuable work. A book, poem, film, or television show should express this individual’s personality, his “vision” (the masculine pronoun is significant; auteurist studies almost all focus on men). This notion stems from the nineteenth-century Romantic image of the author as a figure who sits alone in a dingy room, scratching out angst-ridden poems with a quill pen. The tormented, misunderstood author or artist is a cherished character type that can be traced back to the poet Lord Byron (1788–1824) and observed in numerous portrayals of demented painters, musicians, and writers in television programs and other media. Consider this: Have you ever seen or read a story about a creative person who wasn’t somehow strange or crazy? The auteur theory originated in French film criticism of the 1950s, where it was initially theorized that auteurs could be drawn from the ranks of producers, directors, scriptwriters, actors, and other filmmaking personnel.1 However, the vast bulk of auteurist film criticism has been about directors: Alfred Hitchcock, John Ford, and Quentin Tarantino, among many others.

The Pedestrian (adapted) by Ray Bradbury Mr. Leonard Mead loved to walk outside at night. The city was quiet at eight o’clock on a misty November evening. He liked to put his hands in his pockets and stroll along the cracked sidewalks, stepping over grass that grew between the concrete. He would stop at the corners, look down the empty streets, and choose which way to go. It didn’t really matter which way he picked, because he was always alone in the year 2053. Sometimes, Mr. Mead would walk for hours and miles, coming home only at midnight. As he walked, he saw houses with their windows dark, like he was walking through a graveyard. Sometimes, he saw tiny flashes of light from behind curtains or heard soft voices from open windows. Mr. Mead wore sneakers so his footsteps wouldn’t make noise. If he wore shoes with hard heels, the dogs would bark and people might look out their windows. He liked being quiet and unnoticed as he walked in the cool November air. On this night, Mr. Mead walked west, toward the sea. The air was cold and frosty, making his nose sting and his lungs feel fresh. He listened to the sound of his shoes in the fallen leaves and sometimes picked up a leaf to look at it under the streetlights. As he walked, he whispered to the houses, “Hello in there. What’s on TV tonight? Where are the cowboys? Is the cavalry coming?” But the street was silent and empty, with only his shadow moving. He checked his watch. “Eight-thirty. Is it time for a quiz show? Or a funny show?” He thought he heard laughter from a house, but nothing else happened. He kept walking, sometimes stumbling over the broken sidewalk. In all his years of walking, he had never seen another person out at night. He reached a big intersection where two highways crossed. During the day, it was full of cars, but now it was empty and quiet, like a dry riverbed. Mr. Mead turned onto a side street, heading home. Suddenly, a police car turned the corner and shined a bright light on him. He stood still, surprised by the light. A metallic voice from the car said, “Stand still. Don’t move! Put up your hands!” Mr. Mead obeyed. The police car asked, “What’s your name?” “Leonard Mead,” he answered. “What’s your job?” “I guess I’m a writer,” Mr. Mead said. The police car replied, “No profession.” Mr. Mead hadn’t written anything in years, since people didn’t buy books or magazines anymore. People just stayed inside their houses, watching TV. The car asked, “What are you doing out?” “I’m walking,” Mr. Mead said. “Walking? Just walking?” the car repeated. “Yes,” he said. “Where are you walking? Why?” “For air. To see things,” Mr. Mead answered. “Your address?” “Eleven South Saint James Street.” “Do you have air in your house? An air conditioner?” “Yes.” “Do you have a TV?” “No.” “No?” The car was quiet for a moment. “Are you married?” “No,” Mr. Mead said. “Not married,” the car said. The night was cold and quiet. “Just walking, Mr. Mead?” “Yes.” “But why?” “I told you. For air, to see, and just to walk.” “Do you do this often?” “Every night for years.” The police car was silent for a moment. Then it said, “Get in.” The back door opened. “Wait, I haven’t done anything!” Mr. Mead protested. “Get in,” the car repeated. Mr. Mead looked into the car. There was no one inside, just an empty front seat. The back seat was like a small jail cell, cold and hard. “Where are you taking me?” he asked. The car answered, “To the Psychiatric Center for Research on Regressive Tendencies.” Mr. Mead got in. The door closed, and the car drove away through the empty streets. As they passed his house, he saw that all the lights were on. “That’s my house,” he said, but no one answered. The car drove off into the night, leaving the streets empty and silent for the rest of the cold November night.

A BAD CASE OF THE STRIPES By David Shannon Parts(18): Camilla Narrator 1 Narrator 2 Narrator 3 Narrator 4 Mr. Harms Mother Father Dr. Bumble Old Woman Environmental Therapist Dr. Grop Dr. Gourd Dr. Sponge Mr. Mellon Dr. Cricket Dr. Young <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Narrator 1: A BAD CASE OF THE STRIPES By David Shannon Narrator 2: Camilla Cream loved lima beans. But she never ate them. Narrator 3: All of her friends hated lima beans, and she wanted to fit in. Camilla always worried about what other people thought of her. Narrator 4: Today she was fretting even more than usual. It was the very first day of school, and she couldn't decide what to wear. There were so many people to impress! Narrator 1: She tried on forty-two outfits, but none seemed quite right. She put on a pretty red dress and looked in the mirror. Then she screamed. Narrator 2: Her mother ran into the room, and she screamed, too. Mother: "Oh my heavens! You're completely covered with stripes!" Narrator 3: she cried. This was certainly true. Camilla was striped from head to toe. She looked like a rainbow. Narrator 4: Mrs. Cream felt Camilla's forehead. Mother: "Do you feel all right?" Narrator 1: she asked. Camilla: "I feel fine, but just look at me!" Narrator 2: Camilla answered. Mother: "You get back in bed this instant. You're not going to school today." Narrator 3: her mother ordered. Camilla was relieved. She didn't want to miss the first day of school, but she was afraid of what the other kids would say. And she had no idea what to wear with those crazy stripes. Narrator 4: That afternoon, Dr. Bumble came to examine Camilla. Dr. Bumble: "Most extraordinary! I've never seen anything like it! Are you having any coughing, sneezing, runny nose, aches, pains, chills, hot flashes, dizziness, drowsiness, shortness of breath, or uncontrollable twitching?" Narrator 1: he asked. Camilla: "No, I feel fine." Narrator 2: Camilla told him. Dr. Bumble: "Well then, I don't see any reason why she shouldn't go to school tomorrow. Here's some ointment that should help clear up those stripes in a few days. If it doesn't, you know where to reach me." Narrator 3: Dr. Bumble said, turning to Mrs. Cream. And off he went. Narrator 4: The next day was a disaster. Everyone at school laughed at Camilla. They called her "Camilla Crayon" and "Night of the Living Lollipop." Narrator 1: She tried her best to act as if everything were normal, but when the class said the Pledge of Allegiance, her stripes turned red, white, and blue, and she broke out in stars! Narrator 2: The other kids thought this was great. One yelled out, Narrator 3: "Let's see some purple polka dots!" Narrator 4: Sure enough, Camilla turned all purple polka-dotty. Someone else shouted, Narrator 1: "Checkerboard!" Narrator 4: and a pattern of squares covered her skin. Soon everyone was calling out different shapes and colors, and poor Camilla was changing faster than you can change channels on a T.V. Narrator 2: That night, Mr. Harms, the school principal, called. Mr. Harms: "I'm sorry, Mrs. Cream, I'm going to have to ask you to keep Camilla home from school. She's just too much of a distraction, and I've been getting phone calls from the other parents. They're afraid those stripes may be contagious." Narrator 3: he said. Camilla was so embarrassed. She couldn't believe that two days ago everyone liked her. Now, nobody wanted to be in the same room with her. Narrator 1: Her father tried to make her feel better. Father: "Is there anything I can get you, sweetheart?" Narrator 2: he asked. Camilla: "No, thank you," Narrator 3: sighed Camilla. What she really wanted was a nice plate of lima beans, but she had been laughed at enough for one day. Dr. Bumble: "Hmm, well, yes, I see. I think I'd better bring in the Specialists. We'll be right over.” Narrator 4: said Dr. Bumble to Mr. Cream on the phone. About an hour later, Dr. Bumble arrived with four people in long white coats. He introduced them to the Creams. Dr. Bumble: "This is Dr. Grop, Dr. Sponge, Dr. Cricket, and Dr. Young." Narrator 1: Then the Specialists went to work on Camilla. They squeezed and jabbed, tapped and tested. It was very uncomfortable. Dr. Grop: "Well, it's not the mumps." Dr. Sponge: "Or the measles." Dr. Cricket:"Definitely not chicken pox." Dr. Young: "Or sunburn." Narrator 2: replied the Specialists. Specialists:"Try these. Take one of each before bed." Narrator 4: said the specialists. They each handed her a bottle filled with different colored pills. Then they filed out the front door followed by Dr. Bumble. Narrator 1: That night, Camilla took her medicine. It was awful. Narrator 2: When she woke up the next morning, she did feel different, but when she got dressed, her clothes didn't fit right. She looked in the mirror, and there, staring back at her, was a giant, multi-colored pill with a face on it. Narrator 3: Dr. Bumble rushed over as soon as Mrs. Cream called. But this time, instead of the Specialists, he brought the Experts. Narrator 4: Dr. Gourd and Mr. Mellon were the finest scientific minds in the land. Once again, Camilla was poked and prodded, looked at and listened to. Narrator 1: The Experts wrote down lots of numbers. Then they huddled together and whispered. Dr. Gourd finally spoke. Dr. Gourd: "It might be a virus," Narrator 2: he announced with authority. Suddenly, fuzzy little virus balls appeared all over Camilla. Mr. Mellon: "Or possibly some form of bacteria," Narrator 3: said Mr. Mellon. Out popped squiggly little bacteria tails. Dr. Gourd: "Or it could be a fungus," Narrator 4: added Dr. Gourd. Instantly, Camilla was covered with different colored fungus blotches. The experts looked at Camilla, then each other. Experts: "We need to go over these numbers again back at the lab. We’ll call you when we know something," Narrator 1: said the Experts. But the Experts didn't have a clue, much less a cure. Narrator 2: By now, the T.V. news had found out about Camilla. Reporters from every channel were outside her house, telling the story of "The Bizarre Case of the Incredible Changing Kid." Narrator 3: Soon a huge crowd was camped out on the front lawn. Narrator 4: The Creams were swamped with all kinds of remedies from psychologists, allergists, herbalists, nutritionists, psychics, an old medicine man, a guru, and even a veterinarian. Narrator 1: Each so-called cure only added to poor Camilla's strange appearance until it was hard to even recognize her. She sprouted roots and berries and crystals and feathers and a long furry tail. But nothing worked. Narrator 2: One day, a woman who called herself an Environmental Therapist claimed she could cure Camilla. She said, Environmental Therapist: "Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and become one with your room." Camilla: "I wish you hadn't said that," Narrator 3: Camilla groaned. Slowly, she started to melt into the walls of her room. Her bed became her mouth, her nose was a dresser, and two paintings were her eyes. The therapist screamed and ran from the house. Mother: "What are we going to do? It just keeps getting worse and worse!" Narrator 4: cried Mrs. Cream. She began to sob. Narrator 1: At that moment, Mr. Cream heard a quiet little knock at the front door. He opened it, and there stood an old woman who was just as plump and sweet as a strawberry. Old Woman: "Excuse me, but I think I can help." Narrator 2: she said brightly. Narrator 3: She went into Camilla's room and looked around. Old Woman: "My goodness, what we have here is a bad case of the stripes. One of the worst I've ever seen!" Narrator 4: she said with a shake of her head. She pulled a container of small green beans from her bag. She said, Old Woman: "Here. These might do the trick." Mother: "Are those magic beans?" Narrator 1: asked Mrs. Cream. The old woman replied, Old Woman: "Oh my, no, there's no such thing. These are just plain old lima beans. I'll bet you'd like some, wouldn't you?" Narrator 2: she asked Camilla. Camilla wanted a big, heaping plateful of lima beans more than just about anything, but she was still afraid to admit it. She said, Camilla: "Yuck! No one likes lima beans, especially me!" Old Woman: "Oh, dear, I guess I was wrong about you." Narrator 3: said the old woman sadly. She put the beans back in her bag and started toward the door. Narrator 4: Camilla watched the old woman walk away. Those beans would taste so good. And being laughed at for eating them was nothing, compared to what she'd been going through. She finally couldn't stand it. Camilla: "Wait! The truth is...I really love lima beans." Narrator 1: she cried. The old woman smiled, popping a handful of beans into Camilla's mouth, and said, Old Woman: "I thought so." Camilla: "Mmmmmmm," Narrator 2: said Camilla. Suddenly the branches, feathers, and squiggly tails began to disappear.Then the whole room swirled around. When it stopped, there stood Camilla, and everything was back to normal. Camilla: "I'm cured!" Narrator 3: she shouted. The old woman said, Old Woman: "Yes, I knew the real you was in there somewhere." Narrator 4: She patted Camilla on the head and went outside and vanished into the crowd. Narrator 1: Afterward, Camilla wasn't quite the same. Narrator 2: Some of the kids at school said she was weird, but she didn't care a bit. Narrator 3: She ate all the lima beans she wanted, and she never had even a touch of stripes again.

In a small town, the local TV station was at the center of a **scandal**. A critical news report about the mayor had been mistakenly **broadcast**, leading to widespread **disruption** in the community. People were filled with **anxiety** as they waited for the station to **schedule** a retraction. The station's new manager had to **familiarize** herself quickly with the situation to **tackle** the fallout. She decided to **tailor** a special segment to address the viewers' concerns directly. The pressure was **overwhelming**, but she knew it was the only way to restore trust and calm the chaos.

TECH FREE! by Sam Winton Have you ever wondered what it would be like to give up technology? I'm a TV journalist and I spend a lot of my working life in front of a computer or a TV. I decided to conduct my own private experiment: I would spend a day trying to manage without technological devices. What a scary thought! The first thing I usually do every day is reach for my smartphone to check the time and read any messages or emails. But I'd locked it away in a drawer the night before. Already I was feeling very cut off from the world, and it was only... actually, I had no idea what time it was! After breakfast, I needed to get some cash. Inevitably, this meant a trip to the bank because cash points are technological devices. I had to queue, but I had a very nice conversation with a woman whilst I was waiting. Not surprisingly, the bank teller thought I was a bit strange withdrawing money this way. I think she thought I was a robber! Then it was on to the supermarket. You may be wondering what's technological about that. Well, I had to make sure I avoided the self-service check-out and joined the queue for a normal one - with a real person. Naturally, it took longer, but I had a great chat with the guy who served me, and he told me about a new club that is opening up nearby. Would I have found out about that if I'd gone to the self- service check-out? No. Afterwards, I came home to have a go at writing a news story by hand. Strangely, I found it easier to concentrate on my writing. But my hand and fingers got really sore! And I have to confess - by this stage, I was having to make a real effort not to get my phone out and check my messages. I was starting to wonder what my friends were doing. Maybe they were making plans to go to that new club, and I would never know! All in all, I wouldn't say I could live without technology. Predictably, I really missed my phone all day. The worst part was not being able to check updates in the news or from my friends. I felt very out of touch. However, I kept to my promise of a tech-free day and I did have more face-to-face interaction. Undoubtedly, it made me realise just how addicted to technology we all are.

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