The neurodiverse DJ who runs inclusive club nights in Bristol
A neurodiverse DJ has founded an event where autistic people can feel safe and "have a dance".Disco Neurotico is a club night series founded by autistic DJ Byron Vincent and, after a successful night at the Bristol Beacon, fundraising is under way for a further night in the city.The event is a "safe space" for anyone who feels anxious about "mainstream" club events, Mr Vincent said."I've put thought into every element. It's a welcoming and friendly space, a safe space for people who don't feel safe but still want to dance and socialise," Mr Vincent added.
"I started the event for selfish reasons," Mr Vincent said. "I'm neurodivergent myself, I'm autistic and have anxiety."I struggle with crowds and moving around the world is difficult."Mr Vincent used to run raves and said he enjoyed them but he always needed "a job to focus on".He added: "Eventually, moving in those environments became too much so I became a writer."Then, lockdown happened and I was invited to do online DJ sets. I really enjoyed them."After lockdown, Mr Vincent felt he wanted to recreate that environment."I remembered I hated events so I decided to create an event - selfishly - to my own needs," he said."I thought it was just me and nobody would come - but people said they felt the same way."
He said the event was a "broad church", welcoming autistic people and people with anxiety but also "anyone who doesn't feel comfortable in club environments".Organisers offer people a tour of the venue ahead of the event and introduce their staff.There are also multiple spaces at the events, including gaming areas, crafting tables and a recovery room."The main dance floor is a silent disco with two DJs," said Mr Vincent. "You get a choice of genre and ambient brown noise on the third channel."We try to make sure everyone is held."It's a unique space unlike anywhere else."
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Edinburgh Live
4 days ago
- Edinburgh Live
'I worked on Strictly Come Dancing and the show has lost its magic'
Our community members are treated to special offers, promotions and adverts from us and our partners. You can check out at any time. More info Strictly Come Dancing has been the jewel in the BBC's crown since it first graced our screens in 2004. However, in recent years, the much-loved programme has become somewhat of a headache for the broadcaster, having to navigate through a continuous flow of controversies. The latest incident involves Jamie Borthwick, known for his 19-year stint on EastEnders, who was suspended from the soap after using an offensive term towards disabled individuals. The 30-year-old actor, who danced with newcomer Michelle Tsiakkas on Strictly last year, has expressed regret over the incident that took place during filming for the show in Blackpool. This scandal follows closely on the heels of radio host Wynne Evans being dropped from the Strictly tour and subsequently from the BBC altogether, after he was filmed making an inappropriate comment. Although Wynne apologised at the time, he later stated he was "horrified" by how the BBC handled the release of his statement. Already last year, there were murmurs about Strictly's future amid an investigation into allegations of bullying among the professional dancers. This led to stricter regulations during rehearsals and resulted in the show featuring the smallest number of female celebrities in its two-decade run, reports the Mirror. (Image: PA) With all these events and the subsequent changes, the question remains: is there still hope for Strictly Come Dancing? Vincent Simone, a beloved professional dancer who graced the BBC show from 2006 to 2012, expressed his desire to see Strictly Come Dancing return to its original format in an interview with the Mirror. "Back in our day with Bruce [Forsyth], it was a very traditional Ballroom and Latin American show," Vincent elaborates. "Now it has developed so much and they've introduced so many different styles that me, myself, would be struggling to do like contemporary and all that stuff. "It didn't used to have any special effects - it was literally someone handing me over a CD with the music and saying good luck, off you go for next week. It's a much bigger team now with choreographers, helpers and cameras and so they juice it up a lot more. Sometimes I always feel like it's nice to strip it back to just two people dancing with the music. Like, really simple. I like that side of it." Brendan Cole, Strictly's legendary 'bad boy' pro from 2004 until 2017, concedes that he feels the show has lost some of its magic. However, unlike Vincent, he doesn't believe the show can revert to its simpler roots. (Image: PA) "With these big shows, the longer they run, the more bells and whistles," he comments. "Because every year a new producer steps in, they want to make the show their own. When [Strictly] first started there was a magic about it but if you watch that show now, it would probably seem very, very basic and very average compared to what you watch now. "But of its day, it had a magic and it had a beauty and it was very innocent. It's probably lost a little bit of that, but I don't think you could return to that format. I think shows have to improve and have to compete with other shows, otherwise they get left behind. "Strictly had an amazing 20 something years on television. I don't think you can compare the start to finish, but what you can do is admire the way the show has been produced over the years, and the fact that it still has a good family sort of value." He added: "So yes, it's had a couple of it may have had a couple of rocky years, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. It's just time." Meanwhile, Pasha Kovalev, who found love with his now-wife Rachel Riley while working on the show from 2011 until 2018, expressed that he misses the original VTs which showcased the relationships between the pro and celebrity develop in the training room as opposed to the skits that are filmed now. "You don't really speak much on the show," he says. "You stand next to your celebrity and listen to what the judges say. Those VTs before could show the actual friendship and relationship that develops between the two people on the dance floor in the dance room and you can get your personality across. That's why everyone loves Vincent now." Vincent cheekily interjected: "We had personality back in the day!"
The Guardian
17-05-2025
- The Guardian
‘My sadness is not a burden': author Yiyun Li on the suicide of both her sons
As the novelist Yiyun Li often observes, there is no good way to state the facts of her life and yet they are inescapable: she had two sons, and both died by suicide. After her elder son Vincent died in 2017, at the age of 16, Li wrote a novel for him. Where Reasons End is a conversation, sometimes an argument, between a mother and her dead son, and it is a work of fiction that doesn't feel fictional at all, because it's also an encounter between a writer in mourning and the son she can still conjure up on the page. 'With Vincent's book there was that joy of meeting him again in the book, hearing him, seeing him, it was like he was alive,' she says. The book had 16 chapters, one for each year of his life, and Li felt she could have spent the rest of her life writing it, and also that she could not linger. When her younger son James died in 2024, aged 19, Li wanted to write a book for him, too. James was harder to write for. Her sons were best friends but 'such different boys', she says. She and James did not argue in the same way as she did with Vincent, and he would hate to be thrust into the spotlight, or for her to write a 'sentimental' book. James had a mind so brilliant that his inner workings were often unreachable – by seven or eight he'd open meal-time conversations with 'apparently the Higgs boson …' or 'apparently the predatory tunicates …'. He did not speak often, but could converse in eight languages and his phone was set to Lithuanian, a ninth. He once described Daniel Tammet's Born on a Blue Day: Inside the Extraordinary Mind of an Autistic Savant as the only book that captured how he felt about the world. If Vincent lived 'feelingly', James lived 'thinkingly', Li says, and she wanted her book for him to be 'as clear as James, as logical and rational'. For months after his death, Li worried that she lacked the vocabulary to write about James, but then she began writing and realised 'of course I could do this, this is what I do'. Things in Nature Merely Grow, her memoir of losing her sons, is resolutely unsentimental, and yet it might wind you with its emotional force. She wrote it in less than two months. Often people ask her if writing the book was cathartic. 'No, never!' she replies. If it offered solace, 'it was the solace of thinking'. 'When I was writing the book it felt like I was at the centre of a hurricane. The eye of the hurricane is the stillest place. It's very quiet and clear,' she says. And then she finished writing, and she stepped back into the hurricane. 'My life goes on as a very strange woman,' she tells me, strange because her losses are so extreme: 'Going out, people will always look at me and say, 'Poor woman'.' We meet at her home in Princeton, where photographs of her sons and paintings by Vincent decorate the walls, and every bookshelf is stacked two-deep. It is early spring, still cold, and the trees remain bare, but Li planted 1,600 bulbs in autumn and in the garden are bright clusters of daffodils, hyacinths and tulips. Gardening, which requires a constant revision of ambitions, is good practice for novel-writing and for life, Li observes, but these flowers are not a metaphor. She rejects the idea that grief is a process, that there's light at the end of the tunnel. Even if she could 'turn the page', as the Chinese phrase goes, she would not want to. Li often looks up the etymology of words and notes that 'grief' derives from burden. 'My children were not my burden. My sadness is not my burden,' she says. Li is the author of 12 books – among them novels, short-story collections, memoirs and literary criticism – and in 2010 she won a MacArthur genius grant. She is 52, slight, with cropped hair and a gentle manner. Soon after I arrive, she asks if I have children, which I do, and she says she realises this interview must be hard for me, too. She makes tea and puts out a plate of biscuits and checks several times that I am not cold or hungry. Later, she cooks lunch. At Princeton University, where she is a professor of creative writing, she says she tries to cultivate the right distance with her students, neither aloof nor maternal – and then sometimes she finds herself asking whether they've drunk enough water that day. In her fiction classes, Li bans her students from writing about car crashes. In high emergencies people's feelings are always the same, she tells them, and these extreme emotions are almost impossible to describe. She agrees with the poet Marianne Moore that 'the deepest feeling always shows itself in silence; not in silence, but restraint'. Very occasionally in her writing, Li conveys a feeling directly, and then it is often startling, a highly contained explosion. 'Sometimes I am so sad I feel like a freak,' the mother tells her son in Where Reasons End. But mostly we understand something of Li's pain because she conveys it indirectly. 'I am in an abyss,' she writes in Things in Nature Merely Grow. 'If an abyss is where I shall be for the rest of my life, the abyss is my habitat.' Another reason extreme pain is so hard to convey is because everyone's abyss is different. She tells me that her husband is the only person who can ever understand hers. Li says she feels grateful if anyone finds comfort in her writing, but she knows some will not, and she does not want to become a figurehead for bereaved parents. 'I realise we all have our own pain, and I cannot represent anyone,' she says. After Vincent's death she received many messages from suicidal teenagers and parents who have outlived their children, and after James died, she received even more, this time from families who had lost twin boys, or multiple siblings, to suicide. She has recently removed her contact information from the internet. 'I have given my words, that's the only thing I can give,' she says; she is not a mental health professional, and she does not have the capacity to support strangers in severe distress. After her sons died, she reread Shakespeare, Grief Lessons (Euripides's plays translated by Anne Carson), CS Lewis's A Grief Observed and Joan Didion's accounts of losing her husband and daughter, The Year of Magical Thinking and Blue Nights. Li feels that Didion's approach to writing about bereavement is closest to her own: both focus on their thoughts, rather than their feelings. When Didion describes how after her husband died a hospital social worker called her a 'good customer', because she remained calm, Li recognised herself. Both times the police arrived at her home with bad news, Li remained composed and noticed every detail. 'Two things are good about me,' she tells me at one point. 'I'm sturdy and I'm low maintenance.' Li has always used reading as an 'escape'. 'Children of abusive parents might grow into rebels, or they might become escape artists,' she writes, and Li, who grew up in Beijing with an abusive mother, chose the latter. Her father was a nuclear physicist, and Li was a highly gifted mathematician. After completing a year's compulsory military service, she studied science at Peking University before moving to the US at the age of 23 to study immunology at the University of Iowa. Her husband, Dapeng Li, a software engineer whom she met at university in China, did not join her until a year later. Feeling bored, Li took an evening adult education class in fiction. She loved it. When she wrote her first story, about a military training exercise, her instructor asked her if she'd ever thought of publishing. Inspired, she joined undergraduate creative writing classes and then applied to the prestigious Iowa Writers' Workshop. The first time she applied she was rejected, but the story she had submitted was published in the Paris Review. After she got into Iowa, on the second attempt, she started publishing stories in the New Yorker. For many years, she continued her PhD in immunology, studying asthma in mice, and because she also had small children, she wrote from midnight to 4am each night. In 2005, she published her debut short story collection, A Thousand Years of Good Prayers, to critical acclaim. Li has always written in English, and she will not permit her books to be translated into Chinese. She describes this decision as so deeply personal that she resists any political interpretation. She and her husband speak to one another in Mandarin Chinese, but she now thinks and dreams in English and says she retains the advantage of not writing in her mother tongue. 'I'm very careful with my words. Every time I put down a word, I think through it and make sure it's the right word. But when you're a native speaker you sometimes just use it automatically, right?' She says she has 'a more precise personality' in English. Her writing, and her decision to do so in English, has made her a target in the Chinese media, and since her sons' deaths she has been subject to vicious coverage. In 2017, Li wrote a memoir, Dear Friend, from My Life I Write to You in Your Life, detailing how she was hospitalised twice with depression in 2012 after trying to kill herself. She believes her chronic sleep deprivation, as well as coming off psychiatric medication, played a role in her breakdown. In her new memoir, Li wonders how much her two suicide attempts, and her writing about them, affected her children. By trying to end her own life, did she also make them see suicide as a possibility to end their suffering? 'I ask that question without any self-incrimination. I ask that question because it's a very natural question,' she tells me. She is aware that people like to seek neat explanations for suicide and someone to blame, and usually they blame the parents. 'I am very realistic in that I would always acknowledge that I am limited as their mother. I was limited, and I am still limited as a mother, so I can only do my best.' She knows, however, that she parented them with thoughtfulness and care, and she fought to create space for them to live as they wanted and be fully themselves. She has been thinking a lot recently about how her son Vincent, who as a young teenager insisted on walking to school alone, a two-mile route through woodland, would often leave the house armed with pepper spray. The pepper spray would not protect him, she knew, but it gave him a sense of control and independence. 'That pepper spray is about how we brought up our children, or how people bring up their children. You have to let them be, but the world is so bad, right? It's not a safe place.' As hard as it is, she accepts her children's decision to end their lives. 'Respect and understanding are the two most important things I've given them,' she says. 'This is a very sad fact of our lives, they took their own lives knowing we would accept and respect their decision.' Since James's death, Li has published two New Yorker short stories featuring a protagonist named Lilian, who has also lost two children to suicide. 'I gave Lilian my life, but Lilian is not me,' she says. She has just completed a third Lilian story and there will probably be more. 'I'm still learning how to live as me,' she says, and by writing her experiences into fiction she can think through her life, but at a distance. The Lilian stories are a side project. She has also just completed a big, more than 500-page novel, the first of a trilogy set around the turn of the 19th century. When she is writing fiction, she can feel fully immersed in her work. 'It's just you and your characters and you can spend a lot of time away with them, sort of away from the world,' she says. She feels like she discovers her characters, rather than makes them. 'I believe God creates characters,' she says, and then she laughs at herself, 'but I don't believe in God.' Sometimes Li thinks that writing fiction helped her prepare for her own tragedies. In her first novel, The Vagrants, published in 2009, she writes of an older couple, both beggars, who adopted seven girls, all of whom were later taken from them by the government. Li's children were still young when she wrote the book, but when she reread it recently, she noticed how the elderly couple were always talking to one another about their lost children, in order to preserve their memories, just as she and her husband do now. 'Even when I was younger, maybe I was rehearsing,' she says. 'I think you have to be very clear-eyed to write fiction well, and that's also probably a very good rehearsal for meeting my life.' Then she adds, sounding for a moment surprised, 'It's very strange, isn't it?' A mother gives birth to a firstborn, and blunders through the baby's infanthood. Then she gives birth to another baby. The second time things are somewhat familiar, less daunting, and yet just as many things can go wrong. Losing a child for the second time, I knew some things to be important: sleep, hydration, small and frequent snacks, exercise every day. Get out of bed at the regular time and never ruminate while lying in bed. Make the effort to brew good coffee in the morning. Read – one act of Shakespeare is good enough, so is a page of Euclid's geometry, a chapter of Henry James's biography, or one poem – from Wallace Stevens's collection. Write – there is no reason to stop working and there is also no reason to strive for regular working hours. Anything that prevents agitation or rumination is good for the mind. And, most important of all, for me: radical acceptance. The death of a child realigns time and space. If an abyss is where I shall be for the rest of my life, the abyss is my habitat. One should not waste energy fighting one's habitat. I have only this abyss, which is my life. And an inevitable part of existing in this abyss is exhaustion, which the second time I learned to accept without protest. After James died, flowers arrived in front of our door. The flowers deserved attention, but I had to turn myself inside out to find the energy needed for that attention. (Here's a small thing I've learned: if one is to send flowers as a gesture of condolence, better to ensure the flowers arrive already arranged in a vase.) In that exhaustion, still there is some living to do. What was within my capacity I would not shy away from, as work is as essential as breathing and sleeping. I did not stop writing or take time off from teaching when Vincent died. Writing, teaching, gardening, grocery shopping, cooking, doing laundry – all these activities are time-bound, and they do not compete with my children, who are timeless now. There is no rush, as I will have every single day, for the rest of my life, to think about Vincent and James, outside time, outside the many activities of everyday life. And this, among other reasons, is why I am against the word 'grief,' which in contemporary culture seems to indicate a process that has an end point: the sooner you get there, the sooner you prove yourself to be a good sport at living, and the less awkward people around you will feel. Sometimes people ask me where I am in the grieving process, and I wonder whether they understand anything at all about losing someone. How lonely the dead would feel, if the living were to stand up from death's shadow, clap their hands, dust their pants, and say to themselves and to the world, I am done with my grieving; from this point on it's life as usual, business as usual. I don't want an end point to my sorrow. The death of a child is not a heatwave or a snowstorm, nor an obstacle race to rush through and win, nor an acute or chronic illness to recover from. What is grief but a word, a shortcut, a simplification of something much larger than that word? Thinking about my children is like air, like time. Thinking about them will only end when I reach the end of my life. Things in Nature Merely Grow by Yiyun Li is published by 4th Estate on 22 May. To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply. In the UK and Ireland, Samaritans can be contacted on freephone 116 123, or email jo@ or jo@ In the US, you can call or text the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline on 988, chat on or text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis counsellor. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international helplines can be found at
Metro
06-05-2025
- Metro
20 years since House of Wax was released this ugly reaction still crops up
With buckets of gore, a killer soundtrack, and a star-studded cast, 2005's House of Wax remains a beloved slasher film 20 years on. Directed by Orphan and The Shallows creator Jaume Collet-Serra, it was a remake of the 1953 film of the same name, itself a remake of the 1933 film Mystery of the Wax Museum. Starring Elisha Cuthbert, Chad Michael Murray, Brian Van Holt, Paris Hilton,and Jared Padalecki among others, a group of college friends en route to a football game become stranded in a ghost town when they get a flat tire. They seek help in the only place that's open in Ambrose – an impossibly creepy, seemingly abandoned wax museum. As they explore the terrifying property and the chilling works of 'art' on display, they soon discover all is not what it seems (of course, what else would you expect entering a creepy building in an almost abandoned town) as they are hunted by twin brothers Bo and Vincent (Van Holt in a dual role) who run the museum. House of Wax is filled with brutal kills, but none more vicious than that sustained by Hilton's character Paige, who is chased to the town's sugar mill and impaled on a metal pole by Vincent. In fact, the socialite's onscreen death was a large part of the film's marketing campaign, urging potential viewers to 'See Paris Die' in morbid promotional materials. Though the team behind the film assured audiences it was a tongue-in-cheek slogan, the villainisation of leading ladies deemed 'love to hate them' personalities in the public eye is a terrible trend horror cinema can't shake as House of Wax marks its 20th anniversary. Despite receiving mostly negative reviews, the film still amassed $70 million (£52.7 million) worldwide thanks to its viral marketing campaign, with the focus placed entirely on Paige's grisly death. The 2000s saw Hilton shoot to unprecedented heights of stardom, becoming the focus of several tabloid articles thanks to her party lifestyle and celebrity friends, which only intensified with the release of a sex tape featuring her in 2003. At the time of her casting, she was starring in the wildly popular reality TV show The Simple Life with Nicole Richie, which was a huge draw for audiences alongside 24's Cuthbert, One Tree Hill's Murray, and Gilmore Girls' Padalecki. But many slammed Hilton as being famous simply for being famous, and her mere existence in the public eye drew vitriolic hate from many, with the twisted 'See Paris Die' campaign appeasing the masses who wanted nothing more than to tear her down. The hatred didn't end when the credits rolled, with Hilton receiving a barrage of criticism and negative reviews for her performance, which also led to her receiving a Razzie for Worst Supporting Actress. Sure, the quality of Hilton's performance in House of Wax is debatable, but jibes were levied toward the star before the film had even hit cinema screens, showing that this negativity wasn't solely based on her acting chops. Speaking to Entertainment Tonight recently, Hilton described her death scene as 'iconic', continuing: 'People always talk about it as one of the most iconic scenes ever in a horror film. So, it makes me really proud that that film has just really stood the test of time.' But this same legacy is tainted by the terrible treatment of Hilton by horror fans simply for not fitting the mould of what many may expect from an actor, and an almost scolding approach to her personal life that isn't applied to Hollywood A-listers deemed more 'worthy' of these roles. Two years later, fellow it girl Lindsay Lohan appeared in I Know Who Killed Me, a much-loathed slasher that has gone on to garner a cult following. The year in which the film was made saw Lohan check into the Wonderland Center rehabilitation facility after her high-profile party girl lifestyle and trouble with the law 'caught up with her.' As such, much of the coverage of I Know Who Killed Me revolved around Lohan's personal life, and as she fell from stardom, every film she appeared in drew criticism from the masses simply due to the turning tides of her public perception. I Know Who Killed Me bombed at the box office and was trashed by critics, mostly focusing on Lohan's performance, which has since been praised as a dark gem in her filmography and strangely reflective of her real-life struggles with fame. In 2009, history repeated itself once more when Jennifer's Body, starring Megan Fox and Amanda Seyfried, hit the big screen, telling the story of the titular high school student who becomes a succubus following a botched sacrificial ritual. Despite the feminist narrative covering everything from violence against women and girls, to toxic masculinity and Queer relationships, the marketing for Jennifer's Body focused on one thing – Fox's sex appeal. Posters featured Jennifer scantily clad in a school uniform or a cheerleading outfit, and much of the promotional material around Jennifer's Body drew attention to one scene in the film that saw Fox and Seyfried kiss. Jennifer's Body has become a cult classic praised for its important themes, but at the time, the marketing missed the film's target audience and led to negative reviews, most of which were aimed at Fox, who had become a sex symbol following her stint in the Transformers franchise and felt constantly objectified by the media. Her performance was phenomenal, but as the film's leading lady and a popular figure at the time, attracting plenty of headlines, the brunt of the backlash was aimed squarely at her, leaving Fox feeling 'vilified.' She told CinemaBlend: 'I was being vilified a little bit when the movie was getting ready for its release, it was that interesting juxtaposition to shooting up to extreme heights of fame right before the movie was released and then… the tearing me down was starting to happen. Then I had this media fallout with someone I worked with in the industry. 'That happened right when I was on the press tour for Jennifer's Body. I think it all sort of exploded at once. I felt people definitely viewed me as negative or having bad intentions or just being really shallow and selfish, if it could be reduced and simplified even down to that.' Fox went as far as to say that the hatred she faced and the constant objectification she experienced at the time of Jennifer's Body's release almost led to a 'total breakdown' and her stepping back from the public eye. It's not just the 00s rife with this behaviour, with Kim Kardashian facing accusations of 'ruining' American Horror Story simply for being cast, long before any episodes had even aired. The Kardashian empire is well-known, with the reality TV family known across the globe and often described as the world's most famous family. Like Hilton, she was hit by intense backlash when a sex tape featuring the Skims businesswoman and Ray J was released in 2007, and she hasn't been far from headlines since, whether it be down to drama within her family, her ex-husband Kanye West, or her 2016 Paris robbery. Last year, Kardashian was cast in the 12th season of American Horror Story, titled Delicate, as Siobhan Corbyn, a publicist hired by protagonist Anna (Emma Roberts) who supports her through her IVF treatments, pregnancy, Oscar campaign, and career woes when scandal hits. Her character was eerily like her own 'momager', Kris Jenner, and Kardashian played the role expertly with enough charisma, sass, and terror to make her a standout of the season in what was her acting debut. But even before the season aired, many slated the programme for even considering casting the Keeping Up With The Kardashians star solely because of how she achieved fame, without considering her potential acting talents. In the same year, Sydney Sweeney's appearance became an unusual political symbol around the release of body horror film Immaculate with some social media users claiming her rise to fame marked an end to 'wokeness.' Why? She is a conventionally attractive blonde who occasionally shows off her sizable chest in low-cut dresses. While this isn't the same rampant negativity that Hilton, Lohan, and Kardashian faced, it still acts to show how horror's leading ladies are reduced to bodies to be objectified, whether its using their violent onscreen deaths as marketting fodder, or discussing their bodies in a vulgar manner as if they're not even human beings. More Trending It's not just the horror genre that sees the personal lives and perceptions of its stars affect a movie. Our obsession with celebrity culture often means that the world of showbiz and art collide. But our inability to detach these real-life humans from the characters they play, coupled with salacious headlines and our parasocial relationship with stars, means that celebrities face frightening reactions that could well lead to devastating consequences as we have seen time and time again. That's not to say people in the public eye can't be criticised, it's important to hold people with a platform to account when need be, but to levy such hatred towards people struggling with addiction, intimate material leaked without their consent, or simply for being famous seems a waste of time and energy that could be spent toward causes that justify it. If we mark the 25th anniversary of House of Wax with anything, it needs to be leaving the poor treatment of horror's leading ladies behind and judging a performance for exactly what it is without a star's celebrity status and personal life clouding our vision. House of Wax (2005) – available to rent on Prime Video, Apple TV+, and the Sky Store I Know Who Killed Me (2007) – Plex Jennifer's Body (2009) – Disney Plus American Horror Story: Delicate (2024) – Disney Plus Immaculate (2024) – Prime Video Got a story? If you've got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@ calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we'd love to hear from you. MORE: 'Chilling' horror film with 100% Rotten Tomatoes rating heading to streaming service MORE: Kim Kardashian shoots security guard fiery glare as he steps on her Met Gala dress MORE: First trailer launches for 'demented' new horror movie with 100% Rotten Tomatoes score
