Artists decry ‘irresponsible' plans to demolish brutalist Midlands tower
Artists and conservation groups have decried the 'irresponsible' plan to tear down a brutalist arts tower at a Midlands university, saying the proposed redevelopment is overlooking the 'massive historical significance' of the structure.
The University of Wolverhampton has earmarked the nine-storey School of Art, which is also known as the George Wallis building, for demolition as part of a 'radical' expansion proposal. But it has faced opposition from the Twentieth Century Society, which has submitted a listing application to Historic England that could prevent its destruction.
Built between 1966 and 1970 and designed by Diamond, Redfern & Partners, the building sits beside Wolverhampton Wanderers' Molineux Stadium and is one of a small number of brutalist buildings of its type that remain in good condition.
'This is an excellent surviving example of a postwar art school that has remained in its original use and survives in very good condition, and is loved by both staff and students,' a Twentieth Century Society spokesperson said. 'It clearly has abundant potential to be sympathetically upgraded or reconfigured to suit whatever plans the university may develop in the years to come. On the other hand, demolition would simply be wasteful, irresponsible and anti-growth.'
Historic England is assessing the School of Art and will submit its advice to the Department for Culture, Media and Sport, which will make the ultimate decision. A listing would mean the arts tower was of 'special architectural or historic interest' and would have legal protection from demolition.
Gavin Rogers, a senior lecturer in fine art and photography at the university, said many students were 'angry, confused and disappointed' by the demolition plan. 'Yes, it can get a bit cold in the winter and some double glazing would be nice, but any replacement would never match the spirit that this building offers,' he said.
The building was the site of the First National Black Art Convention in October 1982, where many of the most celebrated British artists of the last four decades congregated to discuss what black art was for in the early part of the Thatcher era. Sonia Boyce, who won the Golden Lion at the Venice Biennale in 2022 for her work Feeling Her Way, was in attendance, as was the Black Audio Film Collective, including John Akomfrah, who represented the UK at the Venice Biennale last year.
The Turner prize winner Lubaina Himid was present that day, as were other Turner nominees Ingrid Pollard (who also won the Hasselblad award in 2024) and Claudette Johnson, who had a studio in the building and was awarded an honorary doctorate by the university in 2022 for 'her contribution to the arts and creative industries sector'.
Other alumni include Cornelia Parker and the founder of the design website Dezeen, Marcus Fairs.
Johnson was part of the Blk Art Group, which formed in Wolverhampton and included Janet Vernon, Dominic Dawes, Wenda Leslie, Ian Palmer, Marlene Smith, Eddie Chambers and Donald Rodney, who is the subject of a major retrospective that comes to the Whitechapel Gallery this week.
Another member of the group, Keith Piper, who recently responded to the Rex Whistler mural at Tate Britain, said the building was a site of 'massive historical significance'.
He said: 'As the site of the First National Black Art Convention in October 1982, it will for ever be the location where artists who would become central to the development of British art of the following decades met for the first time and went on to form some of the most important collaborations of the decade and beyond.'
The event was commemorated at an anniversary conference in 2012 and a symposium in 2023, while a research project was set up by Piper and the rest of the Blk Art Group that includes audio recordings from the event in which Boyce, Johnson and Himid can be clearly heard.
A university spokesperson said that under the current redevelopment plan the School of Art and Creative Industries would be relocated to a different building 'where we will develop new, modern, inspiring teaching and learning spaces that help to foster creativity, collaboration, innovation and an enriched student experience.'This is a very exciting time for the University of Wolverhampton and we look forward to working with our staff, students and partners to deliver this ambitious and transformative programme.'
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- Los Angeles Times
‘Somebody hug me!' 7 Emmy hopefuls on staying calm, hitting their marks and more
The Emmys' limited series/TV movie acting categories have come to represent some of the best and most-talked-about shows on television, and this year's crop of contenders is no exception. The seven actors who joined the 2025 Envelope Roundtable were Javier Bardem, who plays father, victim and alleged molester Jose Menendez in Netflix's 'Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story'; Renée Zellweger, who reprises her role as the British romantic heroine in 'Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy'; Stephen Graham, who co-created and stars in 'Adolescence' as the father of a teenage boy who commits a heinous murder; Jenny Slate, who plays the best friend of a terminally ill woman in FX's 'Dying for Sex'; Brian Tyree Henry, who portrays a man posing as a federal agent in order to rip off drug dealers in Apple TV+'s 'Dope Thief'; Elizabeth Banks, who takes on the role of an estranged sibling and recovering alcoholic in Prime Video's 'The Better Sister'; and Sacha Baron Cohen, who appears as the deceived husband of a successful filmmaker in Apple TV+'s 'Disclaimer.' The Times' news and culture critic Lorraine Ali spoke to the group about the emotional fallout of a heavy scene, the art of defying expectations and more. Read highlights from their conversation below and watch video of the roundtable above. Many of you move between drama and comedy. People often think, 'Drama's very serious and difficult, comedy's light and easy.' Is that true? Banks: I think the degree of difficulty with comedy is much higher. It's really hard to sustainably make people laugh over time, whereas [with] drama, everyone relates to loss and pining for love that's unrequited. Not everybody has great timing or is funny or gets satire. Henry: There's something fun about how closely intertwined they are. In my series, I'm playing a heroin addict running for my life, and I have this codependency with this friend … There's a scene where I've been looking for him, and I'm high out of my mind, and I find him in my attic, and all he's talking about is how he has to take a s—. And I'm like, 'But they're trying to kill us.' You just see him wincing and going through all these [groans]. It is so funny, but at the same time, you're just terrified for both. There's always humor somewhere in the drama. Banks: There's a reason why the theater [symbol] is a happy face/sad face. They're very intertwined. Renée, with Bridget Jones — how has she changed over the last 25 years and where is she now with 'Mad About the Boy'? Zellweger: Nobody's the same from one moment to the next, one chapter to the next and certainly not from one year to the next. It's been a really interesting sort of experiment to revisit a character in the different phases of her life. What I'm really grateful for is that the timing runs in parallel to the sort of experiences that you have in your early 20s, 30s and so on. With each iteration, I don't have to pretend that I'm less than I am, because I don't want to be the character that I was, or played, when she was 29, 35. I don't want to do that, and I certainly don't want to do that now. So it was really nice to meet her again in this place of what she's experiencing in the moment, which is bereavement and the loss of her great love, and being a mom, and trying to be responsible, and reevaluating what she values, and how she comports herself, and what's important and all of that, because, of course, I relate to that in this moment. Stephen, 'Adolescence' follows a family dealing with the fallout of their 13-year-old son being accused of a brutal murder. You direct and star in the series. What was it like being immersed in such heavy subject matter? Did it come home with you? Graham: We did that first episode, the end of it was quite heavy and quite emotional. When we said, 'Cut,' all of us older actors and the crew were very emotional. There were hugs and a bit of applause. And then everyone would be like, 'Where's Owen?' [Cooper, the teenage actor who plays Graham's character's son]. 'Is Owen OK? Is he with his child psychologist?' No, Owen's upstairs playing swing ball with his tutor. It was like OK, that's the way to do this — not to take myself too seriously when we say, 'Cut,' but when I am there, immerse myself in it. Let's be honest, we can all be slightly self-obsessed. My missus, she's the best for me because I'd phone her and say, 'I had a really tough day. I had to cry all day. My wife's died of cancer, and it was a really tough one.' She goes, 'The dog s— all over the living room. I had to go shopping and the f— bag split when I got to Tesco. There was a flat tire. They've let the kids out of school early because there's been a flood. And you've had a hard day pretending to be sad?' Bardem: I totally agree with what Stephen says. You have a life with your family and your children that you have to really pay attention to. This is a job, and you just do the job as good as you can with your own limitations. You put everything into it when they say, 'Action,' and when you're out, you just leave it behind. Otherwise, it's too much. Certain scenes, certain moments stay with you because we work with what we are. But I think it doesn't make you a better actor to really stay in character, as they say, for 24 hours. That doesn't work for me. It actually makes me feel very confused if I do that. On the show 'Monsters' I tried to protect Cooper [Koch] and Nicholas [Alexander Chavez], the actors who play the children, because they were carrying the heavy weight on the show every day. I was trying to make them feel protected and loved and accompanied by us, the adults, and let them know that we are there for them and that this is fiction. Because they were going really deep into it, and they did an amazing job. Elizabeth, in 'The Better Sister,' you portray Nicky, a sister estranged from her sibling who's been through quite a bit of her own trauma. Banks: I play a drunk who's lost her child and her husband, basically, to her little sister, played by Jessica Biel. She is grappling with trauma from her childhood, which she's trying not to bring forward. She's been working [with] Alcoholics Anonymous, an incredible program, to get through her stuff. But she's also a fish out of water when she visits her sister, who [lives in a] very rarefied New York, literary, fancy rich world. My character basically lives in a trailer park in Ohio. There's a lot going on. And there's a murder mystery. I loved the complication … but it brought up all of those things for me. I do think you absolutely leave most of that [heaviness] on set. You are mining it all for the character work, so you've got to find it, but I don't need to then infect my own children with it. Sacha, you have played and created these really gregarious characters like Ali G or Borat. Your character in 'Disclaimer,' he's not a character you created, but he is very understated. Was that a challenge? Cohen: It took me a long time to work out who the character was. I said to [director] Alfonso [Cuarón], 'I don't understand why this guy goes on that journey from where we see him in Act 1.' For me it was, how do you make this person unique? We worked a lot through the specificity of what words he uses and what he actually says to explain and give hints for me as an actor. A lot of that was Alfonso Cuarón saying, 'Take it down.' And there was a lot of rewriting and loads of drafts before I even understood how this guy reacts to the news and information that he believes about his wife. Jenny, 'Dying for Sex' is based on a true story about two friends. One has terminal cancer, and the other — your character — supports her right up until the end. Talk about what it was like to play that role in a series that alternates between biting humor and deep grief. Slate: Michelle Williams, who does a brilliant job in this show, her energy is extending outward and [her character] is trying to experiment before she does the greatest experiment of all, which is to cross over into the other side. My character is really out there, not out there willy-nilly, but she will yell at people if they are being rude, wasteful or if she feels it's unjust. [And she's] going from blasting to taking all that energy and making it this tight laser, and pointing it right into care, and knowing more about herself at the end. I am a peppy person, and I felt so excited to have the job that a lot of my day started with calming myself down. I'm at work with Michelle Williams and Sissy Spacek and Liz Meriwether and Shannon Murphy and being, like, 'Siri, set a meditation timer for 10 minutes,' and making myself do alternate nostril breathing [exercises]. Brian, many people came to know you from your role as Paper Boi in 'Atlanta.' The series was groundbreaking and like nothing else on television. What was it like moving out of that world and onto other projects? Henry: People really thought that I was this rapper that they pulled off the street from Atlanta. To me, that's the greatest compliment … When I did 'Bullet Train,' I was shocked at how many people thought I was British. I was like, 'Oh, right. Now I've twisted your mind this way.' I was [the voice of] Megatron at one point, and now I've twisted your mind that way. My path in is always going to be stretching people's imaginations, because they get so attached to characters that I've played that they really believe that I'm that person. People feel like they have an ownership of who you are. I love the challenge of having to force the imaginations of the viewers and myself to see me in a departure [from] what they saw me [as] previously. Because I realize that when I walk in a room, before I even open my mouth, there's 90 different things that are put on me or taken away from me because of how I look and how I carry myself. Javier, since doing the series are you now frequently asked about your own opinions on the Menendez case? The brothers claim their father molested them, and that is in part what led to them murdering their parents. Bardem: I don't think anybody knows. That's the point. That was the great thing about playing that character, is you have to play it in a way that it's not obvious that he did those things that he was accused of, because nobody knows, but at the same time you have to make people believe that he was capable. I did say to Ryan [Murphy] that I can't do a scene with a kid. Because in the beginning, they do drafts, and there were certain moments where I said, 'I can't. It's not needed.' The only moment that I had a hard time was when [Jose] has to face [his] young kid. It was only a moment where Jose was mean to him. That's not in my nature. Henry: I discovered, while doing my series, 'My body doesn't know this isn't real.' There's an episode where I'm shot in the leg, and I'm bleeding out and I'm on all this different morphine and drugs and all this stuff, and I'm literally lying on this ground, take after take, having to mime this. To go through the delusion of this pain ... in the middle of the takes, it was just so crazy. I would literally look at the crew and say, 'Somebody hug me! Somebody!' Stephen, that scene where you confront the boys in the parking lot with the bike, I was just like, 'Oh, my God, how many times did he have to do that?' This kid gets in your face, and I was like, 'Punch the kid!' My heart went out to you, man, not just as the character but as you being in there. Graham: Because we did it all in one take, we had that unique quality. You're using the best of two mediums. You've got that beauty and that spontaneity and that reality of the theater, and then you have the naturalism and the truth that we have with film and television. So by the time I get to that final bit, we've been through all those emotions. When I open the door and go into [Jamie's] room, everything's shaken. But it's not you. It's an out-of-body experience and just comes from somewhere else. Bardem: Listen, we don't do brain surgery, but let's give ourselves some credit. We are generous in what we do because we are putting our bodies into an experience. We are doing this for something bigger than us, and that is the story that we're telling. What have been some of the more challenging or difficult moments for you, either in your career or your recent series? Zellweger: Trying not to do what you're feeling in the moment sometimes, because it's not appropriate to what you're telling. That happens in most shows, most things that you do. I think everybody experiences it where you're bringing something from home and it doesn't belong on the set. It's impossible to leave it behind when you walk in because it's bigger than you are in that moment. Banks: I would say that the thing that I worked on the most for 'The Better Sister' was [understanding] sobriety. I'm not sober. I love a bubbly rosé. So it really did bring up how much I think about drinking and how social it is and what that ritual is for me, and how this character is thinking about it every day and deciding every day to stay sober or not. I am also a huge fan of AA and sobriety programs. I think they're incredible tools for everybody who works those programs. I was grateful for the access to all of that as I was making the series. But that's what you get to do in TV. You get to explore episode by episode. You get to play out a lot more than just three acts. Stephen, about the continuous single shot. It seems like it's an incredibly difficult and complex way to shoot a series. Why do it? Graham: It's exceptionally difficult, I'm not going to lie. It's like a swan glides across the water beautifully, but the legs are going rapidly underneath. A lot of it is done in preparation. We spend a whole week learning the script, and then the second week is just with the camera crew and the rest of the crew. It's a choreography that you work out, getting an idea of where they want the camera to go, and the opportunity to embody the space ourselves. Cohen: That reminds me of a bit of doing the undercover movies that I do because you have one take. ... I did a scene where I'm wearing a bulletproof vest. There were a lot of the people in the audience who'd gone to this rally, a lot of them had machine guns. We knew they were going to get angry, but you've got to do the scene. You've got one time to get the scene right. But you also go, 'OK, those guys have got guns. They're trying to storm the stage. I haven't quite finished the scene. When do I leave?' But you've got to get the scene. I could get shot, but that's not important. Henry: There's a certain level of sociopathy. Slate: I feel like I'm never on my mark, and it was always a very kind camera operator being like, 'Hey, Jenny, you weren't in the shot shoulder-wise.' I feel like such an idiot. Part of it is working through lifelong, longstanding feelings of 'I'm a fool and my foolishness is going to make people incredibly angry with me.' And then really still wanting to participate and having no real certainty that I'm going to be able to do anything but just make all of my fears real. Part of the thing that I love about performance is I just want to experience the version of myself that does not collapse into useless fragments when I face the thing that scares me the most. I do that, and then I feel the appetite for performance again. Do you see yourself in roles when you're watching other people's films or TV show? Graham: At the end of the day, we're all big fans of acting. That's why we do it. Because when we were young, we were inspired by people on the screen, or we were inspired by places where we could put ourselves and lose our imaginations. We have a lot of t— in this industry. But I think if we fight hard enough, we can come through. Do you know what I mean? It's people that are here for the right reasons. It's a collective. Acting is not a game of golf. It's a team. It's in front and it's behind the camera. I think it's important that we nourish that. Henry: And remember that none of us are t—. Bardem: What is a t—? I may be one of them and I don't know it. Graham: I'll explain it to you later.
Yahoo
2 hours ago
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‘Dragonfly' Review: Andrea Riseborough And Brenda Blethyn Give Wings To Paul Andrew Williams' Poignant Neighborhood Drama
Paul Andrew Williams's feature debut was called London to Brighton (2006), but the British director has never been much interested in capital cities. His latest, Dragonfly, is another example of this, being a dark, low-key drama about the ways in which the unnoticed lives of suburban people can make surprising headlines. In a direct way, it's a sister piece to his provocative 2010 home invasion film Cherry Tree Lane, in which—pre-empting Adolescence—a middle-class couple's humdrum live is turned upside down when they are inexplicably attacked by violent teenage rebels without any apparent cause. In reality, though—and despite the blood spilt both onscreen and off—it turns out to be more like the film Williams made in 2012. Called Song for Marion, it starred Terence Stamp as an emotionally shut-down widower who joins a choir to pay homage to his late wife (Vanessa Redgrave). It wasn't a commercial success, and Dragonfly may not be either, but the new film makes better use of that film's ingredients: themes of loneliness, regret, bereavement, self-worth and family. And like Song for Marion, it has quite the cast: two Oscar nominees playing just outside their age range and beyond their comfort zones. More from Deadline Editors Guild Protests Against Nonfiction Producer Story Syndicate At Tribeca Premiere Of OceanGate Submersible Documentary 'Titan' As Tribeca Kicks Off, Toppers Weigh In On Their Growing Festival & Standing Up To Donald Trump Banijay Appoints Factual Drama Chief There's little to no vanity here in the central pairing of Brenda Blethyn, as the elderly widow Elsie, and Andrea Riseborough, as her unemployed neighbor Colleen, and the two very different actors' styles work perfectly together. The film's opening ten minutes sets up the two women's lives with a poignant economy: living in back-to-back bungalows, they lead eerily similar lives, like ghosts. Elsie had a life once and misses it bitterly now, but Colleen never had a life at all. 'So weird,' says Colleen, quite intuitively, when she first visits Elsie's home. 'It's exactly like mine, just the other way round.' Colleen has lived next door to Elsie for some 13 years before the story starts, and it's not quite immediately clear why she should suddenly pop round to offer her services—does Elsie want anything from the shop? But Colleen has been watching the procession of carers that visit Elsie from day to day, and she sees a woman who deserves more than the clock-watching agency nurses who come to give her showers she doesn't need and food that isn't doing her any good at all. There is, as they say, a gap in the market, and Colleen moves fast to fill it, something Elsie appreciates and which helps the once dowdy woman blossom. Compared even to the slow-burn of Williams' last film Bull (2021), the film takes baby steps to reveal itself as a genre film, but the score by Raffertie is ahead of the action at every turn. Nothing will ever really be revealed or explained by the end, but Williams' script sets up so many fascinating ways in which these two very different women — the relatively posh Elsie and the definitely struggling-class Colleen — strike a chord. And key to that is the introduction of Elsie's son John (Jason Watkins). Middle-aged and yet still pathetically upwardly mobile, John is the harbinger here, and his nasty bourgeois values, coming between Elsie and Colleen, turn out to the be the meat in the sandwich. Instead of Chekhov's gun in this scenario we have a dog, and Colleen's inability to control her 'mentalist' crossbreed Sabre does not go well for either of them, leading to a very violent denouement. But Williams' film is not so much concerned with the tension of getting to that and more about the understanding; Andrea Riseborough is just so good at this, bringing the A-game she brought to 2022's To Leslie, but this time with a more jarring child-like innocence, reflected in her pasty, wan complexion. The same goes for Brenda Blethyn, so effortlessly affecting as a wife and mother reduced to becoming a client to the welfare state, a degradation that Colleen just can't begin to tolerate. Williams' films often end with a question mark, and that doesn't always satisfy. With Dragonfly, however, the questions posed are moral and timely, and they will hang around in your head long after as you think about women like Colleen and Elsie and the things in their lives that are missing. It's a mother of a story. Title: DragonflyFestival: Tribeca (International Narrative Competition)Director/screenwriter: Paul Andrew WilliamsCast: Andrea Riseborough, Brenda Blethyn, Jason WatkinsUS Sales: AMP InternationalRunning time: 1 hr 38 mins Best of Deadline Broadway's 2024-2025 Season: All Of Deadline's Reviews Sundance Film Festival U.S. Dramatic Grand Jury Prize Winners Through The Years Deadline Studio At Sundance Film Festival Photo Gallery: Dylan O'Brien, Ayo Edebiri, Jennifer Lopez, Lily Gladstone, Benedict Cumberbatch & More
Yahoo
2 hours ago
- Yahoo
‘Dragonfly' Review: Andrea Riseborough And Brenda Blethyn Give Wings To Paul Andrew Williams' Poignant Neighborhood Drama
Paul Andrew Williams's feature debut was called London to Brighton (2006), but the British director has never been much interested in capital cities. His latest, Dragonfly, is another example of this, being a dark, low-key drama about the ways in which the unnoticed lives of suburban people can make surprising headlines. In a direct way, it's a sister piece to his provocative 2010 home invasion film Cherry Tree Lane, in which—pre-empting Adolescence—a middle-class couple's humdrum live is turned upside down when they are inexplicably attacked by violent teenage rebels without any apparent cause. In reality, though—and despite the blood spilt both onscreen and off—it turns out to be more like the film Williams made in 2012. Called Song for Marion, it starred Terence Stamp as an emotionally shut-down widower who joins a choir to pay homage to his late wife (Vanessa Redgrave). It wasn't a commercial success, and Dragonfly may not be either, but the new film makes better use of that film's ingredients: themes of loneliness, regret, bereavement, self-worth and family. And like Song for Marion, it has quite the cast: two Oscar nominees playing just outside their age range and beyond their comfort zones. More from Deadline Editors Guild Protests Against Nonfiction Producer Story Syndicate At Tribeca Premiere Of OceanGate Submersible Documentary 'Titan' As Tribeca Kicks Off, Toppers Weigh In On Their Growing Festival & Standing Up To Donald Trump Banijay Appoints Factual Drama Chief There's little to no vanity here in the central pairing of Brenda Blethyn, as the elderly widow Elsie, and Andrea Riseborough, as her unemployed neighbor Colleen, and the two very different actors' styles work perfectly together. The film's opening ten minutes sets up the two women's lives with a poignant economy: living in back-to-back bungalows, they lead eerily similar lives, like ghosts. Elsie had a life once and misses it bitterly now, but Colleen never had a life at all. 'So weird,' says Colleen, quite intuitively, when she first visits Elsie's home. 'It's exactly like mine, just the other way round.' Colleen has lived next door to Elsie for some 13 years before the story starts, and it's not quite immediately clear why she should suddenly pop round to offer her services—does Elsie want anything from the shop? But Colleen has been watching the procession of carers that visit Elsie from day to day, and she sees a woman who deserves more than the clock-watching agency nurses who come to give her showers she doesn't need and food that isn't doing her any good at all. There is, as they say, a gap in the market, and Colleen moves fast to fill it, something Elsie appreciates and which helps the once dowdy woman blossom. Compared even to the slow-burn of Williams' last film Bull (2021), the film takes baby steps to reveal itself as a genre film, but the score by Raffertie is ahead of the action at every turn. Nothing will ever really be revealed or explained by the end, but Williams' script sets up so many fascinating ways in which these two very different women — the relatively posh Elsie and the definitely struggling-class Colleen — strike a chord. And key to that is the introduction of Elsie's son John (Jason Watkins). Middle-aged and yet still pathetically upwardly mobile, John is the harbinger here, and his nasty bourgeois values, coming between Elsie and Colleen, turn out to the be the meat in the sandwich. Instead of Chekhov's gun in this scenario we have a dog, and Colleen's inability to control her 'mentalist' crossbreed Sabre does not go well for either of them, leading to a very violent denouement. But Williams' film is not so much concerned with the tension of getting to that and more about the understanding; Andrea Riseborough is just so good at this, bringing the A-game she brought to 2022's To Leslie, but this time with a more jarring child-like innocence, reflected in her pasty, wan complexion. The same goes for Brenda Blethyn, so effortlessly affecting as a wife and mother reduced to becoming a client to the welfare state, a degradation that Colleen just can't begin to tolerate. Williams' films often end with a question mark, and that doesn't always satisfy. With Dragonfly, however, the questions posed are moral and timely, and they will hang around in your head long after as you think about women like Colleen and Elsie and the things in their lives that are missing. It's a mother of a story. Title: DragonflyFestival: Tribeca (International Narrative Competition)Director/screenwriter: Paul Andrew WilliamsCast: Andrea Riseborough, Brenda Blethyn, Jason WatkinsUS Sales: AMP InternationalRunning time: 1 hr 38 mins Best of Deadline Broadway's 2024-2025 Season: All Of Deadline's Reviews Sundance Film Festival U.S. Dramatic Grand Jury Prize Winners Through The Years Deadline Studio At Sundance Film Festival Photo Gallery: Dylan O'Brien, Ayo Edebiri, Jennifer Lopez, Lily Gladstone, Benedict Cumberbatch & More