logo
'I Don't Understand You': Nick Kroll, Andrew Rannells movie inspired by adoption fraud story from filmmakers

'I Don't Understand You': Nick Kroll, Andrew Rannells movie inspired by adoption fraud story from filmmakers

Yahoo4 hours ago

While Nick Kroll and Andrew Rannells voice some pretty hysterical characters in Big Mouth, they're now sharing the screen in the horror-comedy I Don't Understand You (now in theatres). Written and directed by married filmmakers David Joseph Craig and Brian Crano, the movie had a particularly interesting starting point.
In I Don't Understand You Kroll and Rannells play a couple, Dom and Cole, who have just fallen victim to adoption fraud, but things are looking up. A pregnant woman named Candace (Amanda Seyfried) thinks they're the right fit for the family to adopt her child.
But just before that happens, Dom and Cole take a romantic Italian vacation. Things take a turn when they get lost outside of Rome, trying to find a restaurant. As their stranded in an unknown location, the trip turns to bloody Italian chaos.
As Craig and Crano identified, the first portion of the movie, up until the couple gets stuck going to the restaurant, is quite close to the real experience the filmmakers had.
"We were adopting a child. We had been through an adoption scam, which was heartbreaking, and then had a completely different experience when we matched with the birth mother of our son," Crano told Yahoo. "But we found out that we were going to have him literally like two days before we were going on our 10th anniversary trip."
"And we were like, 'Shit, should we not go?' But we decided to do it, and you're so emotionally opened up and vulnerable in that moment that it felt like a very similar experience to being in a horror movie, even though it's a joyful kind of situation."
A key element of I Don't Understand You is that feeling of shock once the story turns from a romance-comedy to something much bloodier. It feels abrupt, but it's that jolt of the contrast that also makes that moment feel particularly impactful to watch.
"Our sense of filmmaking is so ... based on surprise," Craig said. "As a cinephile, my main decade to go to are outlandish '90s movies, because they just take you to a different space, and as long as you have a reality to the characters that are already at hand, you can kind of take them wherever."
"Personally, the situation of adoption was a constant jolt [from] one emotion to another that we felt like that was the right way to tell a story like this, which was literally, fall in love with a couple and then send them into a complete nightmare. And I think you can only get that if you do it abruptly, and kind of manically."
While Rannells and Kroll have that funny and sweet chemistry the story needs, these were roles that weren't written for them. But it works because Crano and Craig know how to write in each other's voices so well, that's where a lot of the dialogue is pulled from.
Additionally, the filmmakers had the "creative trust" in each other to pitch any idea, as random as it may have seemed, to see if it could work for the film.
"When you're with somebody you've lived with for 15 years, there is very little that I can do that would embarrass me in front of David," Crano said. "So that level of creative freedom is very generative."
"We were able to screw up in front of each other a lot without it affecting the rest of our day," Craig added.
Of course, with the language barrier between the filmmakers and the Italian cast, it was a real collaboration to help make the script feel authentic for those characters.
"All of the Italian actors and crew were very helpful in terms of being like, 'Well I feel like my character is from the south and wouldn't say it in this way.' And helped us build the language," Crano said. "And it was just a very trusting process, because neither of us are fluent enough to have that kind of dialectical specificity that you would in English."
"It was super cool to just be watching an actor perform a scene that you've written in English that has been translated a couple of times, but you still completely understand it, just by the generosity of their performance."
For Craig, he has an extensive resume of acting roles, including projects like Boy Erased and episodes of Dropout. Among the esteemed alumni of the Upright Citizens Brigade, he had a writing "itch" for a long time, and was "in awe" of Crano's work as a director.
"Truthfully, in a weird way, it felt like such a far off, distant job, because everything felt really difficult, and I think with this project it just made me understand that it was just something I truly love and truly wanted to do," Craig said. "I love the idea of creative control and being in a really collaborative situation. Acting allows you to do that momentarily, but I think like every other job that you can do on a film is much longer lasting, and I think that's something I was truly seeking."
For Crano, he also grew up as a theatre kid, moving on to writing plays in college.
"The first time I got laughs for jokes I was like, 'Oh, this is it. Let's figure out how to do this,'" he said. "I was playwriting in London, my mom got sick in the States, so I came back, and I started writing a movie, because I was living in [Los Angeles] and I thought, well there are no playwrights in L.A., I better write a movie.'"
That's when Crano found a mentor in Peter Friedlander, who's currently the head of scripted series, U.S. and Canada, at Netflix.
"I had written this feature and ... we met with a bunch of directors, great directors, directors I truly admire, and they would be like, 'It should be like this.' And I'd be like, 'Yeah, that's fine, but maybe it's more like this.' And after about five of those Peter was like, 'You're going to direct it. We'll make some shorts. We'll see if you can do it.' He just sort of saw it," Crano recalled.
"It's nice to be seen in any capacity for your ability, but [I started to realize] this is not so different from writing, it's just sort of writing and physical space and storytelling, and I love to do it. ... It is a very difficult job, because it requires so much money to test the theory, to even see if you can."
But being able to work together on I Don't Understand You, the couple were able to learn things about and from each other through the filmmaking process.
"David is lovely to everyone," Crano said. "He is much nicer than I am at a sort of base level, and makes everyone feel that they can perform at the best of their ability. And that's a really good lesson."
"Brian literally doesn't take anything personally," Craig added. "Almost to a fault."
"And it's very helpful in an environment where you're getting a lot of no's, to have a partner who's literally like, 'Oh, it's just no for now. Great, let's move on. Let's find somebody who's going to say yes, maybe we'll come back to that no later.' I'm the pessimist who's sitting in the corner going, 'Somebody just rejected me, I don't know what to do.' ... It just makes you move, and that's very helpful for me."

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Bruce Springsteen's European tour comes with a warning about the battle for America's soul
Bruce Springsteen's European tour comes with a warning about the battle for America's soul

Yahoo

time40 minutes ago

  • Yahoo

Bruce Springsteen's European tour comes with a warning about the battle for America's soul

They know all about glory days on the Kop – the fabled terrace that is the spiritual home of fans of Liverpool – England's Premier League champions. But they're more used to legends like Kenny Dalglish or Mohamed Salah banging in goals than political cries for help. So, it was surreal to watch alongside thousands of middle-aged Brits as Bruce Springsteen bemoaned America's democracy crisis on hallowed footballing ground. 'The America that I love … a beacon of hope and liberty for 250 years, is currently in the hands of a corrupt, incompetent and treasonous' administration, Springsteen said at Anfield Stadium on Wednesday night. The Boss's latest warnings of authoritarianism on his European tour were impassioned and drew large cheers. But they did seem to go over the heads of some fans who don't live in the whirl of tension constantly rattling America's national psyche. Liverpudlians waited for decades for Springsteen to play the hometown of The Beatles, whose 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' set his life's course when he heard it on the radio as a youngster in New Jersey. Most had a H-H-H-Hungry heart for a party. They got a hell of a show. But also, a lesson on US civics. 'Tonight, we ask all of you who believe in democracy and the best of our American experiment to rise with us, raise your voices, stand with us against authoritarianism and let freedom ring!' Springsteen said. His European odyssey is unfolding as Western democracies are being shaken again by right-wing populism. So, his determination to engage with searing commentary therefore raises several questions. What is the role of artists in what Springsteen calls 'dangerous times?' Can they make a difference, or should stars of entertainment and sports avoid politics and stick to what they know? Fox News polemicist Laura Ingraham once told basketball icon LeBron James, for instance, that he should just 'shut up and dribble.' Springsteen's gritty paeans to steel towns and down-on-their-luck cities made him a working-class balladeer. But as blue-collar voters stampede to the right, does he really speak for them now? Then there's this issue that Springsteen emphatically tried to answer in Liverpool this week: Does the rough but noble America he's been mythologizing for 50 years even exist anymore? Trump certainly wants to bring the arts to heel – given his social media threats to 'highly overrated' Springsteen, Taylor Swift and other superstars and his takeover of the Kennedy Center in Washington. Any center of liberal and free thought from pop music to Ivy League universities is vulnerable to authoritarian impulses. But it's also true that celebrities often bore with their trendy political views, especially preaching at Hollywood awards ceremonies. Springsteen, however, has been penning social commentary for decades. And what's the point of rock 'n' roll if not rebellion? Rockers usually revolt in their wild-haired youth, rather than in their mid-70s, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Oddly, given their transatlantic dialogue of recent weeks, Trump and Springsteen mine the same political terrain – globalization's economic and spiritual hollowing of industrial heartlands. 'Now Main Street's whitewashed windows, And vacant stores, Seems like there ain't nobody, Wants to come down here no more,' Springsteen sang in 1984 in 'My Hometown' long before Trump set his sights on the Oval Office. The White House sometimes hits similar notes, though neither the Boss nor Trump would welcome the comparison. 'The main street in my small town, looks a heck of a lot worse than it probably did decades ago before I was alive,' Trump's press secretary Karoline Leavitt said rather less poetically in March. Political fault lines are also shifting. In the US and Europe, the working class is rejecting the politics of hope and optimism in dark times. And the Democratic politicians that Springsteen supported – like defeated 2004 nominee John Kerry, who borrowed Springsteen's 'No Surrender' as his campaign anthem, and former President Barack Obama – failed to mend industrial blight that acted as a catalyst to Trumpism. There are warning signs in England too. The Boss's UK tours often coincided with political hinge moments. In the 1970s he found synergy with the smoky industrial cities of the North. In his 'Born in the USA' period, he sided with miners clashing with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. A new BBC documentary revealed this week he gave $20,000 in the 1980s to a strikers' support group. Liverpool, a soulful, earthy city right out of the Springsteen oeuvre is a longtime Labour Party heartland. But in a recent by-election, Nigel Farage's populist, pro-Trump, Reform Party overturned a Labour majority of nearly 15,000 in Runcorn, a decayed industrial town, 15 miles upstream from Liverpool on the River Mersey. This stunner showed Labour's working class 'red wall' is in deep peril and could follow US states like Ohio in shifting to the right as workers reject progressives. Labour Cabinet Minister Lisa Nandy, whose Wigan constituency is nearby, warned in an interview with the New Statesman magazine this month that political tensions were reaching a breaking point in the North. 'People have watched their town centers falling apart, their life has got harder over the last decade and a half … I don't remember a time when people worked this hard and had so little to show for it,' Nandy said, painting a picture that will be familiar to many Americans. In another sign of a seismic shift in British politics last week, Reform came a close third in an unprecedented result in a parliamentary by-election in a one-time industrial heartland outside Glasgow. Scotland has so far been immune to the populist wave – but the times are changing. Still, there's not much evidence Trump or his populist cousins in the UK will meaningfully solve heartland pain. They've always been better at exploiting vulnerability than fixing it. And Trump's 'big, beautiful bill' would hurt the poor by cutting access to Medicaid and nutrition help while handing the wealthy big tax cuts. 'When conditions in a country are ripe for a demagogue, you can bet one will show up,' Springsteen told the crowd in Liverpool, introducing 'Rainmaker' a song about a conman who tells drought-afflicted farmers that 'white's black and black is white.' As the E Street Band struck up, Springsteen said: 'This is for America's dear leader.' Springsteen has his 'Land of Hope and Dreams.' But Trump has his new 'Golden Age.' He claims he can 'Make America Great Again' by attacking perceived bastions of liberal power like elite universities and the press, with mass deportations of undocumented immigrants and by challenging due process. Springsteen implicitly rejected this as un-American while in Liverpool, infusing extra meaning into the lyrics of 'Long Walk Home,' a song that predates Trump's first election win by a decade: 'Your flag flyin' over the courthouse, Means certain things are set in stone. Who we are, what we'll do and what we won't.' Sending fans into a cool summer night, the Boss pleaded with them not to give up on his country. 'The America I've sung to you about for 50 years now is real, and regardless of its many faults, is a great country with a great people and we will survive this moment,' he said. But his fight with Trump for America's soul will go on. The contrast would be driven home more sharply to Americans if he tours on US soil at this, the most overtly politicized phase of a half-century-long career. Perhaps in America's 250th birthday year in 2026?

Analysis: Bruce Springsteen and the battle for America's soul
Analysis: Bruce Springsteen and the battle for America's soul

CNN

timean hour ago

  • CNN

Analysis: Bruce Springsteen and the battle for America's soul

They know all about glory days on the Kop – the fabled terrace that is the spiritual home of fans of Liverpool – England's Premier League champions. But they're more used to legends like Kenny Dalglish or Mohamed Salah banging in goals than political cries for help. So, it was surreal to watch alongside thousands of middle-aged Brits as Bruce Springsteen bemoaned America's democracy crisis on hallowed footballing ground. 'The America that I love … a beacon of hope and liberty for 250 years, is currently in the hands of a corrupt, incompetent and treasonous' administration, Springsteen said at Anfield Stadium on Wednesday night. The Boss's latest warnings of authoritarianism on his European tour were impassioned and drew large cheers. But they did seem to go over the heads of some fans who don't live in the whirl of tension constantly rattling America's national psyche. Liverpudlians waited for decades for Springsteen to play the hometown of The Beatles, whose 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' set his life's course when he heard it on the radio as a youngster in New Jersey. Most had a H-H-H-Hungry heart for a party. They got a hell of a show. But also, a lesson on US civics. 'Tonight, we ask all of you who believe in democracy and the best of our American experiment to rise with us, raise your voices, stand with us against authoritarianism and let freedom ring!' Springsteen said. His European odyssey is unfolding as Western democracies are being shaken again by right-wing populism. So, his determination to engage with searing commentary therefore raises several questions. What is the role of artists in what Springsteen calls 'dangerous times?' Can they make a difference, or should stars of entertainment and sports avoid politics and stick to what they know? Fox News polemicist Laura Ingraham once told basketball icon LeBron James, for instance, that he should just 'shut up and dribble.' Springsteen's gritty paeans to steel towns and down-on-their-luck cities made him a working-class balladeer. But as blue-collar voters stampede to the right, does he really speak for them now? Then there's this issue that Springsteen emphatically tried to answer in Liverpool this week: Does the rough but noble America he's been mythologizing for 50 years even exist anymore? Trump certainly wants to bring the arts to heel – given his social media threats to 'highly overrated' Springsteen, Taylor Swift and other superstars and his takeover of the Kennedy Center in Washington. Any center of liberal and free thought from pop music to Ivy League universities is vulnerable to authoritarian impulses. But it's also true that celebrities often bore with their trendy political views, especially preaching at Hollywood awards ceremonies. Springsteen, however, has been penning social commentary for decades. And what's the point of rock 'n' roll if not rebellion? Rockers usually revolt in their wild-haired youth, rather than in their mid-70s, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Oddly, given their transatlantic dialogue of recent weeks, Trump and Springsteen mine the same political terrain – globalization's economic and spiritual hollowing of industrial heartlands. 'Now Main Street's whitewashed windows, And vacant stores, Seems like there ain't nobody, Wants to come down here no more,' Springsteen sang in 1984 in 'My Hometown' long before Trump set his sights on the Oval Office. The White House sometimes hits similar notes, though neither the Boss nor Trump would welcome the comparison. 'The main street in my small town, looks a heck of a lot worse than it probably did decades ago before I was alive,' Trump's press secretary Karoline Leavitt said rather less poetically in March. Political fault lines are also shifting. In the US and Europe, the working class is rejecting the politics of hope and optimism in dark times. And the Democratic politicians that Springsteen supported – like defeated 2004 nominee John Kerry, who borrowed Springsteen's 'No Surrender' as his campaign anthem, and former President Barack Obama – failed to mend industrial blight that acted as a catalyst to Trumpism. There are warning signs in England too. The Boss's UK tours often coincided with political hinge moments. In the 1970s he found synergy with the smoky industrial cities of the North. In his 'Born in the USA' period, he sided with miners clashing with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. A new BBC documentary revealed this week he gave $20,000 in the 1980s to a strikers' support group. Liverpool, a soulful, earthy city right out of the Springsteen oeuvre is a longtime Labour Party heartland. But in a recent by-election, Nigel Farage's populist, pro-Trump, Reform Party overturned a Labour majority of nearly 15,000 in Runcorn, a decayed industrial town, 15 miles upstream from Liverpool on the River Mersey. This stunner showed Labour's working class 'red wall' is in deep peril and could follow US states like Ohio in shifting to the right as workers reject progressives. Labour Cabinet Minister Lisa Nandy, whose Wigan constituency is nearby, warned in an interview with the New Statesman magazine this month that political tensions were reaching a breaking point in the North. 'People have watched their town centers falling apart, their life has got harder over the last decade and a half … I don't remember a time when people worked this hard and had so little to show for it,' Nandy said, painting a picture that will be familiar to many Americans. In another sign of a seismic shift in British politics last week, Reform came a close third in an unprecedented result in a parliamentary by-election in a one-time industrial heartland outside Glasgow. Scotland has so far been immune to the populist wave – but the times are changing. Still, there's not much evidence Trump or his populist cousins in the UK will meaningfully solve heartland pain. They've always been better at exploiting vulnerability than fixing it. And Trump's 'big, beautiful bill' would hurt the poor by cutting access to Medicaid and nutrition help while handing the wealthy big tax cuts. 'When conditions in a country are ripe for a demagogue, you can bet one will show up,' Springsteen told the crowd in Liverpool, introducing 'Rainmaker' a song about a conman who tells drought-afflicted farmers that 'white's black and black is white.' As the E Street Band struck up, Springsteen said: 'This is for America's dear leader.' Springsteen has his 'Land of Hope and Dreams.' But Trump has his new 'Golden Age.' He claims he can 'Make America Great Again' by attacking perceived bastions of liberal power like elite universities and the press, with mass deportations of undocumented immigrants and by challenging due process. Springsteen implicitly rejected this as un-American while in Liverpool, infusing extra meaning into the lyrics of 'Long Walk Home,' a song that predates Trump's first election win by a decade: 'Your flag flyin' over the courthouse, Means certain things are set in stone. Who we are, what we'll do and what we won't.' Sending fans into a cool summer night, the Boss pleaded with them not to give up on his country. 'The America I've sung to you about for 50 years now is real, and regardless of its many faults, is a great country with a great people and we will survive this moment,' he said. But his fight with Trump for America's soul will go on. The contrast would be driven home more sharply to Americans if he tours on US soil at this, the most overtly politicized phase of a half-century-long career. Perhaps in America's 250th birthday year in 2026?

Analysis: Bruce Springsteen and the battle for America's soul
Analysis: Bruce Springsteen and the battle for America's soul

CNN

timean hour ago

  • CNN

Analysis: Bruce Springsteen and the battle for America's soul

They know all about glory days on the Kop – the fabled terrace that is the spiritual home of fans of Liverpool – England's Premier League champions. But they're more used to legends like Kenny Dalglish or Mohamed Salah banging in goals than political cries for help. So, it was surreal to watch alongside thousands of middle-aged Brits as Bruce Springsteen bemoaned America's democracy crisis on hallowed footballing ground. 'The America that I love … a beacon of hope and liberty for 250 years, is currently in the hands of a corrupt, incompetent and treasonous' administration, Springsteen said at Anfield Stadium on Wednesday night. The Boss's latest warnings of authoritarianism on his European tour were impassioned and drew large cheers. But they did seem to go over the heads of some fans who don't live in the whirl of tension constantly rattling America's national psyche. Liverpudlians waited for decades for Springsteen to play the hometown of The Beatles, whose 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' set his life's course when he heard it on the radio as a youngster in New Jersey. Most had a H-H-H-Hungry heart for a party. They got a hell of a show. But also, a lesson on US civics. 'Tonight, we ask all of you who believe in democracy and the best of our American experiment to rise with us, raise your voices, stand with us against authoritarianism and let freedom ring!' Springsteen said. His European odyssey is unfolding as Western democracies are being shaken again by right-wing populism. So, his determination to engage with searing commentary therefore raises several questions. What is the role of artists in what Springsteen calls 'dangerous times?' Can they make a difference, or should stars of entertainment and sports avoid politics and stick to what they know? Fox News polemicist Laura Ingraham once told basketball icon LeBron James, for instance, that he should just 'shut up and dribble.' Springsteen's gritty paeans to steel towns and down-on-their-luck cities made him a working-class balladeer. But as blue-collar voters stampede to the right, does he really speak for them now? Then there's this issue that Springsteen emphatically tried to answer in Liverpool this week: Does the rough but noble America he's been mythologizing for 50 years even exist anymore? Trump certainly wants to bring the arts to heel – given his social media threats to 'highly overrated' Springsteen, Taylor Swift and other superstars and his takeover of the Kennedy Center in Washington. Any center of liberal and free thought from pop music to Ivy League universities is vulnerable to authoritarian impulses. But it's also true that celebrities often bore with their trendy political views, especially preaching at Hollywood awards ceremonies. Springsteen, however, has been penning social commentary for decades. And what's the point of rock 'n' roll if not rebellion? Rockers usually revolt in their wild-haired youth, rather than in their mid-70s, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Oddly, given their transatlantic dialogue of recent weeks, Trump and Springsteen mine the same political terrain – globalization's economic and spiritual hollowing of industrial heartlands. 'Now Main Street's whitewashed windows, And vacant stores, Seems like there ain't nobody, Wants to come down here no more,' Springsteen sang in 1984 in 'My Hometown' long before Trump set his sights on the Oval Office. The White House sometimes hits similar notes, though neither the Boss nor Trump would welcome the comparison. 'The main street in my small town, looks a heck of a lot worse than it probably did decades ago before I was alive,' Trump's press secretary Karoline Leavitt said rather less poetically in March. Political fault lines are also shifting. In the US and Europe, the working class is rejecting the politics of hope and optimism in dark times. And the Democratic politicians that Springsteen supported – like defeated 2004 nominee John Kerry, who borrowed Springsteen's 'No Surrender' as his campaign anthem, and former President Barack Obama – failed to mend industrial blight that acted as a catalyst to Trumpism. There are warning signs in England too. The Boss's UK tours often coincided with political hinge moments. In the 1970s he found synergy with the smoky industrial cities of the North. In his 'Born in the USA' period, he sided with miners clashing with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. A new BBC documentary revealed this week he gave $20,000 in the 1980s to a strikers' support group. Liverpool, a soulful, earthy city right out of the Springsteen oeuvre is a longtime Labour Party heartland. But in a recent by-election, Nigel Farage's populist, pro-Trump, Reform Party overturned a Labour majority of nearly 15,000 in Runcorn, a decayed industrial town, 15 miles upstream from Liverpool on the River Mersey. This stunner showed Labour's working class 'red wall' is in deep peril and could follow US states like Ohio in shifting to the right as workers reject progressives. Labour Cabinet Minister Lisa Nandy, whose Wigan constituency is nearby, warned in an interview with the New Statesman magazine this month that political tensions were reaching a breaking point in the North. 'People have watched their town centers falling apart, their life has got harder over the last decade and a half … I don't remember a time when people worked this hard and had so little to show for it,' Nandy said, painting a picture that will be familiar to many Americans. In another sign of a seismic shift in British politics last week, Reform came a close third in an unprecedented result in a parliamentary by-election in a one-time industrial heartland outside Glasgow. Scotland has so far been immune to the populist wave – but the times are changing. Still, there's not much evidence Trump or his populist cousins in the UK will meaningfully solve heartland pain. They've always been better at exploiting vulnerability than fixing it. And Trump's 'big, beautiful bill' would hurt the poor by cutting access to Medicaid and nutrition help while handing the wealthy big tax cuts. 'When conditions in a country are ripe for a demagogue, you can bet one will show up,' Springsteen told the crowd in Liverpool, introducing 'Rainmaker' a song about a conman who tells drought-afflicted farmers that 'white's black and black is white.' As the E Street Band struck up, Springsteen said: 'This is for America's dear leader.' Springsteen has his 'Land of Hope and Dreams.' But Trump has his new 'Golden Age.' He claims he can 'Make America Great Again' by attacking perceived bastions of liberal power like elite universities and the press, with mass deportations of undocumented immigrants and by challenging due process. Springsteen implicitly rejected this as un-American while in Liverpool, infusing extra meaning into the lyrics of 'Long Walk Home,' a song that predates Trump's first election win by a decade: 'Your flag flyin' over the courthouse, Means certain things are set in stone. Who we are, what we'll do and what we won't.' Sending fans into a cool summer night, the Boss pleaded with them not to give up on his country. 'The America I've sung to you about for 50 years now is real, and regardless of its many faults, is a great country with a great people and we will survive this moment,' he said. But his fight with Trump for America's soul will go on. The contrast would be driven home more sharply to Americans if he tours on US soil at this, the most overtly politicized phase of a half-century-long career. Perhaps in America's 250th birthday year in 2026?

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store