
Travis Kelce skips Happy Gilmore 2 premiere as Adam Sandler sends him a message from New York
The Chiefs star landed a role in the film as a hotel employee, with one scene giving him the chance to share the screen with Bad Bunny.
And while Kelce skipped out on the premiere with Kansas City's training camp beginning on Tuesday, it's clear he made an impression on Sandler during the filming of the movie.
'They were both so confident and so funny. They're gonna go on and do whatever the hell they want,' Sandler told The Hollywood Reporter of Kelce and Bad Bunny.
'But I'd love to do something with them again, because I got very friendly with them, and I love them both.'
Sandler also joked to Extra TV that he 'didn't want to bother' Kelce's pop star girlfriend, Taylor Swift about a potential role in the film.
'Just let Taylor entertain the world like she does... she's done a lot for our planet.'
Bad Bunny, meanwhile, teased a 'honey scene' with Kelce, which he called 'crazy' in an interview with Extra.
Aside from the Puerto Rican musician, there were plenty more big names in attendance at the Lincoln Center in New York.
Jimmy Fallon, John Cena, Margaret Qualley and Bennie Safdie (the latter two have cameos in the film) were all in attendance, as was influencer Alix Earle.
From the sports world, Kelce's fellow football player Derrick Henry was in attendance too, and Sandler could be heard telling the bruising running back that the pair were 'doing a movie together' on the red carpet.
Former Steelers star Ryan Clark was in attendance as well.
Of course, there were plenty of names from the golf world as well, including Scottie Scheffler - fresh off of his win at The Open - Colin Morikawa, Fred Couples, Tony Finau, Bryson DeChambeau and John Daly.
All will have cameo films in the movie - which will mark a second appearance in the 'Happy Gilmore' franchise for Couples.
Kid Cudi and Sandler embraced on the red carpet as they posed for a photo together
Justin Thomas and Jack Nicklaus also reportedly have roles in the film, though they were not in attendance on Monday night.
Golf influencer Paige Spiranac also scored a cameo in the film and graced the red carpet on Monday.
And rapper Kid Cudi appears in the movie, too, and smiled for a picture with Sandler on Monday.
The film is a sequel to Sandler's 1996 comedy classic which follows an ex-hockey player turned golfer with anger issues.
Despite the many newcomers in the film, fans will be pleased to see Julie Bowen and Christopher McDonald reprise the roles of Virginia Venit and Shooter McGavin respectively.
The film will be released to Netflix on Friday.
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Daily Mail
37 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
Iconic comedian reveals jaw-dropping cost of playing Taylor Swift song at his show
Comedian Marc Maron has revealed the eye-watering sum he paid to use Taylor Swift 's music in his stage show. The 61-year-old star revealed the five-digit figure while appearing on Vulture 's Good One podcast this week. 'I think it came out to $50K, around that. I did everything I could to get the joke in front of her,' he said about spoofing the 35-year-old singer's 2022 song Bigger Than the Whole Sky. He said he initially reached out to Swift's longtime collaborator, musician Jack Antonoff. 'I know Jack Antonoff enough to text him — and he's the cowriter on that song,' Maron explained. 'I said, "I don't know what's proper or how to do this, but we're running out of money on this thing. It's probably going to come out of my pocket. Is there anything you can do about this song or talk to Taylor?"' has contacted Taylor's representatives for comment regarding Maron's payment claim but have yet to hear back. Maron said that Antonoff directed him to 'go through the proper channels' to obtain a license for the song, which was featured on Swift's Midnights album. He said about the cost, 'It was doable. We made enough money. It was tight, but because of the ticket sales for the [televised version of the] special, we are able to get that song.' The fee allowed him to sing just 'a minute' of the tune, with financial consequences if he were to extend it. 'If I would have gone over the minute, it would have been more money,' he divulged. 'We couldn't even let it, like, play out the special or anything. So, I got together with a band and wrote that music as the opening and closing. Yeah, it was under a minute,' the entertainer recalled. Maron emphasized his 'history' with the song, and said he felt that he needed to play it during his standup set. 'It had to happen,' he insisted. 'The real fear is, like, she doesn't let you use it, and then what do you do? You can't do the bit on the special. That's why I was, like, [manifesting] "I think she'll like the bit."' The star noted that while Swift's team gave him the ok to use the music, he doesn't know if the Cruel Summer hitmaker has actually heard his bit. Maron has hosted the podcast WTF With Marc Maron since 2009, making him one of the original podcasters. He said about the cost, 'It was doable. We made enough money. It was tight, but because of the ticket sales for the [televised version of the] special, we are able to get that song'; pictured in 2019 In June he announced that he and producer Brendan McDonald are ending the show later this year, per Variety. 'WTF' is coming to an end, and it's our decision,' he told listeners during an episode featuring comedian John Mulaney as a guest. 'We'll have our final episode sometime in the fall.' He added candidly, 'It was not some kind of difficult decision, necessarily. Neither me nor Brendan — who are the only people in charge of this operation on every level — we both realized together that we were done.' Marc is currently promoting the animated family comedy The Bad Guys 2, in theaters August 1.


Daily Mail
an hour ago
- Daily Mail
Jay Leno blasts late-night comedy hosts
Jay Leno is taking aim at modern late-night comedy shows, claiming the hosts are isolating half their viewers in an interview released just days after Stephen Colbert got the boot from CBS. The former Tonight Show host, 75, reflected on the shift in late-night culture during a sit-down interview with Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation president David Trulio. The candid conversation was taped two weeks ago but was recently shared and quickly circulated online. They spoke openly about comedy, politics, and what's changed in the late-night world. Trulio began by mentioning to Leno that his jokes had a reputation of being equally balanced in his time on air. 'I read that there was an analysis done of your work on "The Tonight Show" for the 22 years and that your jokes were roughly equally balanced between going after Republicans and taking aim at Democrats. Did you have a strategy?' Trulio asked. 'I got hate letters saying, "You and your Republican friends," and another saying, "I hope you and your Democratic buddies are happy" – over the same joke,' Leno said. 'That's how you get a whole audience. Now you have to be content with half the audience, because you have to give your opinion.' 'Rodney Dangerfield and I were friends,' continued Leno. 'I knew Rodney 40 years and I have no idea if he was a Democrat or Republican. We never discussed politics, we just discussed jokes.' 'I like to think that people come to a comedy show to get away from the pressures of life. I love political humor – don't get me wrong. But people wind up cozying too much to one side or the other.' 'Funny is funny,' Leno said. 'It's funny when someone who's not... when you make fun of their side and they laugh at it, you know, that's kind of what I do.' 'I just find getting out – I don't think anybody wants to hear a lecture,' he continued. 'When I was with Rodney, it was always in the economy of words – get to the joke as quickly as possible.' He criticized comedians who inject their political opinions into every monologue and said he preferred making the whole audience laugh rather than pushing an agenda. 'I don't think anybody wants to hear a lecture … Why shoot for just half an audience? Why not try to get the whole? I like to bring people into the big picture,' he said. 'I don't understand why you would alienate one particular group, you know, or just don't do it at all. I'm not saying you have to throw your support or whatever, but just do what's funny.' His comments come in the wake of Colbert's dramatic departure from The Late Show. A media frenzy engulfed The Late Show after Colbert publicly slammed the CBS show's parent corporation, Paramount Global, for settling a defamation lawsuit with Trump for $16 million, calling it a 'big, fat, bribe,' in his opening monologue. Just days after the searing call-out, Colbert told his studio audience that the network was ending The Late Show in May 2026. Speculation has loomed over why the show was canceled, with A-listers and fellow talk-show hosts coming to the comedian's defense. Colbert won an Emmy for his work on The Colbert Report, a satirical show that ran on Comedy Central from 2005 to 2014. After he replaced David Letterman on The Late Show, the program was nominated for the most Outstanding Talk Series at the Emmys from 2017 to 2022. Meanwhile, other late-night legends have rallied behind Colbert in the wake of his show's cancellation. Jimmy Fallon said: 'I don't like it. I don't like what's going on one bit. These are crazy times,' Fallon said, referencing how 'everybody [was] talking about' the decision. 'And many people are now threatening to boycott the network', he said, setting up another punchline. 'Yeah – CBS could lose millions of viewers, plus tens of hundreds watching on Paramount+.' David Letterman also backed his successor and suggested CBS canceled The Late Show because he was 'always shooting his mouth off' about Donald Trump. The 78-year-old late-night legend created The Late Show in 1993 after NBC denied him the chance to succeed Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show. In his first comment on the show's cancellation, Letterman noted that his show was more about political satire than his version of The Late Show but was still complimentary, calling the decision by CBS 'pure cowardice.' 'I think one day, if not today, the people at CBS who have manipulated and handled this, they're going to be embarrassed, because this is gutless,' he told former Late Show producers Barbara Gaines and Mary Barclay.


Times
an hour ago
- Times
Tom Lehrer obituary: devilish musical satirist
Before Tom Lehrer opened his mouth, he seemed the image of decency. Sitting at the piano in a tux as sharp as his jawline, looking a little nerdy with his slicked-back hair, large-framed glasses and bow tie, he could have fooled his listeners into thinking that they were about to hear a mild selection of show tunes. Yet as soon as his fingers hit the keys he revealed himself as the imp he really was, gleefully mocking staid mid-century morals, goading his listeners to clutch their pearls. He sang The Masochism Tango, exclaiming that 'I ache for the touch of your lips, dear/ But much more for the touch of your whips, dear.' And he sang about that bucolic way to spend a Sunday afternoon: Poisoning Pigeons in the Park. In I Got It From Agnes, he sang about the transmission of 'it', a venereal disease, through a series of increasingly depraved couplings. Masterfully avoiding recourse to a single rude word, he made eyes bulge with tell of how 'Max got it from Edith, who gets it every spring/ She got it from her daddy who just gives her everything/ She then gave it to Daniel, whose spaniel has it now/ Our dentist even got it and we're still wondering how.' He won renown among those of discerning bad taste in the Fifties and early Sixties for 37 such songs. They also included I Hold Your Hand In Mine — the seemingly sweet murmurs of a lover who has in fact murdered his darling and kept her hand as a souvenir — and When You are Old and Gray, in which, inverting Yeats's poem, he pleaded: 'So say you love me here and now, I'll make the most of that/ Say you love and trust me, for I know you'll disgust me, when you're old and getting fat.' He sang such lyrics with blithe zest and remarkable vocal dexterity, wending his way through the most tangled tongue-twisters. As if to prove a point, he arranged all the known elements to the tune of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Major General's Song. Part of the joy of listening to him sing was the thrill of hearing him vault such high hurdles as 'Europium, zirconium, lutetium, vanadium/ And lanthanum and osmium and astatine and radium/ And gold, protactinium and indium and gallium/ And iodine and thorium and thulium and thallium.' Lehrer was such a confident performer that his songs could seem like spontaneous outbursts, but really he laboured over them intently, shaving off spare words and notes until they were as elegant as equations. A Harvard mathematician who retreated from the limelight back to his alma mater, he found the same satisfaction in fitting a satirical message into verse as he did in solving such abstruse mathematical problems as 'the number of locally maximal elements in a random sample'. Many of his songs originated as party pieces to play to his friends at Harvard, where he matriculated in 1943 at only 15. He made a record of a dozen of his songs to give to them as a memento, hoping to sell the rest of the 400 copies at gigs. Having managed to sell them in a couple of days, he printed more, and employed freshmen to help him to dispatch them by mail order. His fame spread by word of mouth, and by 1954 he had sold 10,000 records. He also began playing in nightclubs such as The Blue Angel in Manhattan and the Hungry I in San Francisco, and at benefits for liberal and anti-war groups. A left-winger of the strait-laced sort who would soon be drowned out by the hippy movement, he endeared himself to his comrades with an 'uplifting song in the tradition of the great old revival hymns' about nuclear annihilation. It went: 'We will all go together when we go/ What a comforting fact that is to know/ Universal bereavement, an inspiring achievement/ Yes we will all go together when we go.' By 1957 he was performing at Carnegie Hall. Lehrer's fame reached Britain that year, when Professor JR Sutherland, awarding an honorary music degree to Princess Margaret from the University of London, let it be known that she was a fan of his music. Talk of his songs spread through university papers and record shops, prompting the BBC to ban most of them from the airwaves the following year. In 1959 he recorded a second album, More of Tom Lehrer, and sold out several venues in the United Kingdom. Yet it was at this moment that he began to tell his friends he wanted to stop performing. He had never gone out of his way to seek fame. At Harvard, once inundated with invitations to perform at parties, he had doubled his fee. The number of invitations halved, which suited him just fine. At the end of 1959, having toured Australia, and the UK once more, he decided to let his records earn his living for him, and return to Harvard to try to finish his PhD. He soon concluded, however, that he had nothing original to offer academia, and gave up on the PhD in 1965. He continued to dabble with songwriting, submitting tapes of his music to That Was the Week That Was — a precursor to Saturday Night Live — and releasing a third album, That Was the Year That Was. But it tired him to tour the world, playing the same songs over and over, and he all but gave it up. On a short tour of Scandinavia in 1967 he joked that all of his songs were 'part of a huge scientific project to which I have devoted my entire life, namely, the attempt to prolong adolescence beyond all previous limits', but it seemed that experiment had reached its conclusion. It was not only out of weariness that he retreated from the limelight, but out of a sense that popular culture had left him behind. His brand of dissent — droll, insouciant, recognisably an undergraduate parlour game — seemed an anachronism to the earnest and righteous rebels of the counterculture. About them he joked, 'It takes a certain amount of courage to get up in a coffee house or a college auditorium and come out in favour of the things everybody else is against, like peace and justice and brotherhood and so on.' Contrary to a biographical note on one of his LPs, Thomas Andrew Lehrer was not 'raised by a yak, by whom he was always treated as one of the family', but born in Manhattan in 1928, the son of Morris Lehrer, a non-practising Jew and necktie manufacturer whose Gilbert and Sullivan records he would listen to constantly, and Anna (née Waller). He began piano lessons at the age of eight, and spent the summers of his boyhood at Camp Androscoggin in Maine, where he bumped into a younger boy whose music he would later idolise: Stephen Sondheim (obituary, November 27, 2021). Educated at Horace Mann, a private high school in the Bronx, Lehrer skipped three years to keep himself amused. His application to Harvard took the form of a poem, the last stanza of which ran: 'But although I detest/ Learning poems and the rest/ Of the things one must know to have 'culture',/ While each of my teachers/ Makes speeches like preachers/ And preys on my faults like a vulture/ I will leave movie thrillers/ And watch caterpillars/ Get born and pupated and larva'ed/ And I'll work like a slave/ And always behave/ And maybe I'll get into Harvard.' He chose to study mathematics, judging that English involved too much reading and chemistry too much grubbing around in foul-smelling laboratories. Once there he began writing scurrilous songs with which to entertain his peers, and surrounded himself with pranksters who would later become eminences in their respective fields: Philip Warren Anderson, who won the Nobel prize in physics; Lewis Branscombe, who became the chief scientist at IBM, and David Robinson, who became the executive director of the Carnegie Corporation. In 1951 he staged the Physical Revue (a play of words on the Physical Review, a scientific publication), a musical drama incorporating 21 of his songs. Invitations to perform at parties poured in, and steadily he acquired a following. By 1954 he was selling records from the second floor of his house, and working as a defence contractor to avoid being conscripted. Despite his best efforts, the following year he was drafted into the Defence Department's cryptography division, which would later become the National Security Agency. He maintained that his only contribution to the NSA was a way to get around its prohibition against staff drinking alcohol at parties — jelly vodka shots. Lehrer gave his last public performance for many years at a fundraiser for the Democratic presidential candidate George McGovern in 1972. Looking for a sunny climate and a quieter life, he began teaching a course in musical theatre at the University of California, Santa Cruz. He would later teach mathematics there too. It was tacitly understood in his classes that nobody was to mention his career as a performer. Despite his on-stage effervescence he was a deeply reticent man, whose friends hardly got a glimpse into his private life. Once asked whether he had a wife or children, he replied 'not guilty on both counts'. Lehrer claimed that he stopped writing satire partly because 'things I once thought were funny are scary now. I often feel like a resident of Pompeii who has been asked for some humorous comments on lava.' Indeed, he famously said a year after he retired from performing that 'political satire became obsolete when Kissinger was awarded the Nobel peace prize'. Having relinquished fame so flippantly, he affected to care little about his legacy. When one would-be biographer came knocking, he rebuffed his offer to write his life story, but gave him the original recordings of his second album as though they were worthless to him. He felt no need to give an answer to those who wondered why one of the great lyricists of the 20th century would seem so indifferent to the fate of his own art. In 2020 he put his songs in the public domain. Yet as a younger man he did claim to feel a degree of emotional investment in the reception of his work, saying:'If, after hearing my songs, just one human being is inspired to say something nasty to a friend, or perhaps to strike a loved one, it will all have been worth the while.' Tom Lehrer, musical satirist, was born on April 9, 1928. He died on July 27, 2025, aged 97