Latest news with #CommonPeople
India.com
16 hours ago
- Entertainment
- India.com
Who is Rukmini Devi from Mandala Murders, champion swimmer, now stealing spotlight with her...; net worth is Rs...
When the trailer of Mandala Murders dropped, it promised darkness, myth, and blood. But what no one saw coming was how a flashback cameo would haunt the audience even after the credits rolled. Shriya Pilgaonkar, known for picking characters with teeth, steps into the shadows as Rukmini Devi—a mysterious woman tied to a forgotten cult in a forgotten town. No, she's not the lead. And yes, she's barely there. But somehow, everyone is talking about her. That's Shriya for you. Why is a blink-and-miss role stealing the spotlight? Mandala Murders is crawling with suspense and heavy names, Vaani Kapoor, Surveen Chawla, and Vaibhav Raj Gupta all in the fray. Yet it's Shriya, in a 1950s flashback, dressed in a maroon saree and carrying ancient secrets in her eyes, who's got the web buzzing. Played with chilling restraint, Shriya's Rukmini sets the tone for the series, which peels away layers of rituals, bloodlines, and karmic justice in a fictional town named Charandaspur. Why does Shriya Pilgaonkar feel oddly familiar? Because you've probably seen her before, just in many different roles. She began her acting journey at five with Tu Tu Main Main, but her real break came with Shah Rukh Khan's Fan in 2016. Since then, she's done everything from Mirzapur to Guilty Minds, Taaza Khabar to The Broken News, always shape-shifting. She's also a director, producer, and former trained swimmer who once dreamt of becoming a Japanese translator. And yes, she's the daughter of legends, Sachin and Supriya Pilgaonkar. What's her story off-camera? Born in 1989 in Mumbai, Shriya grew up with cinema in her DNA. But she carved her path, first studying Sociology, dabbling in language, then returning to films. Her stage credits include Internal Affairs and Common People, showing early signs of a layered performer. Even her dad, veteran actor-director Sachin Pilgaonkar, couldn't hold back and posted a proud note after her performance in Mandala Murders caught fire. She once told Hindustan Times, 'I haven't dated much. I like my space and my work.' That sums her up—focused, private, relentless. How much does she earn? According to Marathi BioDotCom, Shriya charges Rs 10–12 lakhs per project. As of 2021, her net worth hovered between Rs 10–12 crores. But her value in the streaming world? Likely way higher now. About Mandala Murders Created by Gopi Puthran and co-directed by Manan Rawat, the Netflix series dives into ancient beliefs colliding with modern crime. Murders take place that don't follow logic, but rituals. It's a grim spiral into mythology, psychology, and buried truths. And right in the eye of this storm is Shriya's Rukmini, tied to a secret society that existed decades ago and still pulls the strings. If Mandala Murders proves anything, it's this: Shriya doesn't need loud roles to leave a mark. She's the kind of actor whose silence speaks volumes. A look, a pause, a half-smile, and you're drawn in.
Spectator
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Spectator
Forget Oasis – we should celebrate Pulp's legacy
It begins with an electric swish sound that makes you feel like you are falling backwards, followed by an arresting synthesiser da-da-dum drumbeat. Then we get the voice, in double-time: 'She came from Greece, she had a thirst for knowledge. She studied sculpture at St Martin's College…' With those words, singer Jarvis Cocker and his fellow members of Pulp caught the attention of a nation. And chances are, three decades on from the release of 'Common People', this musical intro will still send a tingle down your spine, particularly if you're aged anywhere between 40 and 70. Forget the record-marketing buzz of 'Blur vs Oasis' (always less entertaining than the Blair vs Brown story anyway), or the extraordinary hype surrounding this summer's Oasis reunion tour (Pulp have been there, done that already) – the fact is that nothing and no one defines the enormously fecund musical era of Britpop quite like Pulp. And at the pulsating bullseye of the band's creative output is 'Common People', a song so rageful and bitter and yet so joyous and beguiling that you can't help but love it. Steeped in more gallows humour than a Pierrepont family funeral and offering a wealth of cynicism over the destitution in our society, the song put the 'Brit' at the heart of Britpop too. Yet for all its sublime anger on behalf of those whom we would now call the left-behind, 'Common People', released in May 1995, was a song that strangely unified the nation. From the sweaty, smoke-filled nightclubs and student unions of Sheffield, Manchester or Newcastle to trendy London nightspots, this was a song that got everyone dancing. Reaching number two in the charts, it had toffs and Sloanes in their red jeans and loafers strutting their stuff on the dancefloor, even if they only mouthed along ironically with the bitter incantation of the economically disenfranchised. And they loved it. 'Common People' was the demotic anthem of the decade, one that chimed with the unintended social legacy of Margaret Thatcher's economic policies – namely three million unemployed (10.6 per cent of workers were on the dole in 1993) and the unfathomable social cost that scores of pit and factory closures brought on the communities relying on them. This lurks at the core of the song's critique of rich people slumming it for fun or 'class tourism'. 'You will never understand,' Cocker sings, 'How it feels to live your life/ With no meaning or control/ And with nowhere left to go/ You are amazed that they exist.' He was talking of the woman from Greece (who may or may not, apparently, have been inspired by Danae Stratou – daughter of a Greek industrialist and now wife of left-wing economist Yanis Varoufakis – who studied sculpture at St Martin's at the same time as Cocker was there), but he could easily have been referring to anybody from one of southern England's prosperous districts in the mid-1990s. Looking back you can see that 'Common People' – and the accompanying album Different Class – signalled the cultural and political reset of the 1990s, when Britain consciously threw off the stricter social mores of the 1980s and 1970s and also turned its back on the harder edges of that Thatcherite settlement, if not the settlement altogether. Whichever it was, as well as dropping their aitches on breakfast television, they let themselves be seen kicking footballs towards nets, something no political heavyweight would have countenanced before. 'Sing along with the common people/ Sing along and it might just get you through,' Pulp said in 'Mis-Shapes', the opening track on Different Class, another song which embraced the language of class war and promised that the revenge would be sweet. 'What's the point in being rich,' sings Cocker with delicious rage, 'If you can't think what to do with it?/ Cause you're so bleeding thick.' You may recall that it was as if overnight – well, from 1997, anyway – that politicians could suddenly be openly gay, while the last vestiges of deference – declining fast since Virginia Woolf's cook asked to borrow her newspaper in 1910 – were stripped back. 'Call me Tony,' said Blair, who was among the first of a generation of politicians who really started to either be passionate about or pretend to be passionate about football in order to appeal to the footie-loving masses. But it wasn't just Pulp's anger in 1995, it was the anger of a generation and society which felt that the promise of our social contract had been unfulfilled or broken, one in which too many were excluded from the wealth of the nation. 'Now we can't help but see / That the future that you've got mapped out / Is nothing much to shout about.' The worry is they really could be singing about our own times, couldn't they? Pulp, of course, was not the agent of change, but along with other cultural pointers – think 1996's Trainspotting or 1994's Parklife – it was a herald of the coming times, and it stands out from the crowd. Which why, 30 years on, 'Common People' and Different Class are truly in a class of their own. If you don't believe me, dig out one of your old CDs and give it a listen, or find it online. And once you've done that, listen to the William Shatner version of 'Common People'. It really will make you like the song all the more.
Times
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Times
‘I was photographing Noel Gallagher in Moscow — then the KGB showed up'
I f you religiously read NME before the turn of the millennium, the chances are you've seen one of your favourite musicians through Lawrence Watson's lens. For the past 45 years, the Londoner has been behind the scenes at album shoots, recording sessions and record label meetings that helped to shape the sound and style of the century, shooting everyone from Oasis and Blur to Snoop Dogg and David Bowie. From a nonchalant Liam Gallagher swathed in a Union Jack flag to Grace Jones lounging across the famous light-up dance floor at Stepney's nightclub (once featured in Pulp's Common People music video), many music fans will recognise some of the defining shots in his extensive archive. At the time Watson began his career at the NME in the early 1980s, he'd already set his sights on becoming a documentary photographer. 'I went to a scrappy comprehensive school on the Cally Road in north London — the same one as John Lydon from the Sex Pistols,' he tells The Times. 'After passing my art O-level, I managed to get a job in a darkroom in Old Street on the government's Youth Opportunity Scheme. All my heroes were Magnum photographers, so I spent my free time shooting the H-Block marches and the National Front.'
Vancouver Sun
17-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Vancouver Sun
Vancouver's beautiful people get suited and booted for a day at the races on Saturday
Vancouver's cool set descends on Hastings Park on Saturday for the 15th annual Cup Day, a gathering described by organizers as, 'A day at the races, where old-world elegance meets a debaucherous day party'. More than 10,000 people are expected to attend and, if the weather holds, it promises to be an afternoon more akin to an Ibiza day club than a celebration of the 'Sport of Kings' — although there will be hats aplenty and some of the smartest-dressed folks seen this side of Royal Ascot, as Vancouver's party people vie for the $1,000 on offer for the best dressed person. There are also plenty of food and drink options, including the return of the Cocktail Jockey, a 1970s-inspired pop-up speakeasy, melding top mixologists with classic DJ sets. Music plays a central role in making sure Cup Day goes with a swing. This year sees British hitmaker Jonas Blue headline with a live DJ set. Edmonton party band, Brasstactics and Vancouver powerhouse DJ duo, Common People, are also on the bill. Dealing with a rise in decibels apart, it's business as usual for Hastings' horsemen and women, although there remains some irony that B.C.'s racing industry will, over and above its normal cut of the betting revenue, earn nothing from the event. B.C. racing's relatively small cut of that turnover is significantly larger on the portion bet on-track (approximately 16 per cent on track, versus just three per cent of 'offtrack' money bet on Hastings), so the more partygoers bet on the tarmac at Hastings, the more the racing industry benefits. However, while the cash boost is certainly welcome on an afternoon that traditionally generates one of the year's biggest betting 'handles' of the Hastings' season, it is another perfect example of how the sport, by the way it is structured in B.C., is not the master of its own destiny. Cup Day is run by a marketing company which pays track operators Great Canadian for the privilege of hosting what is essentially a private event. The people and horses putting on the show, receive nothing extra. 'It's frustrating,' admits Gary Johnson, chair of Thoroughbred Racing British Columbia. 'We put on the show, but we don't share in its success — a success racing has helped to create.' Cup Day has grown into one of the summer's social highlights in Vancouver and, in the 15 years since its inception, that growth can be seen clearly through the rise in betting on the big day. Ten years ago, horse players generated just over $500,000 in betting turnover. In 2024, the figure was nudging $974,000, with almost $250,000 of that bet by people attending the event. However, cold hard cash aside, Cup Day remains a positive experience for the backstretch community and one it looks forward to. Trainer Steve Henson agrees that, from the horsemen's side, Cup Day remains one of the year's highlights. He said: 'I love Cup Day. It's a great, fun day out. We live for the excitement this sport generates, and that excitement is certainly heightened when the grandstands are so full. It's also a day when we get to show people, who may not be regular racegoers, what the sport is all about.' First race Saturday , (2:30 p.m.) Hastings Race 1 (2:30pm PT): Tex Hanley made merry at this level just two startsago and he can get the Cup Day party swinging early. Hastings Race 4 (5:27 p.m.): Run Rudolf, who returns to action for the first time since beating today's rival Lucky Force over this distance back in June, can land The Cup.
The Herald Scotland
05-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Herald Scotland
Olivia Rodrigo, Gracie Abrams and 'hard launch summer'
Rodrigo had subtly posted photos of British actor Louis Partridge in previous photo dumps, but never his face. But towards the end of a Glastonbury recap post on July 2, Rodrigo shared a clip of her dancing on Partridge's shoulders, smiling and singing along to Pulp's "Common People." The comment section exploded. "The hard launch I was waiting for I'm so happy," one fan wrote. Abrams also shared a photo of herself dancing on Irish actor Paul Mescal's shoulders over the weekend on her Instagram stories, followed by a selfie in a photo dump on her feed on July 2. "I'm so happy for two people I don't even know," one fan commented. "Both you and Olivia hard launching on the feed is really special to me," wrote another. So what is the art of the "hard launch"? The term made waves last summer when Taylor Swift finally posted Travis Kelce on her Instagram feed. Both Abrams and Rodrigo's rumored relationships have also been in the spotlight already. Early kisses caught by paparazzi, gossip circulating social media, songs seemingly written about their partners (have you listened to Rodrigo's "so american"?). But the "hard launch" is about telling the world you're together, on your terms. Therapists say celebrities have myriad reasons for pulling that proverbial trigger. But whether it's a carefully curated moment or an impulsive expression of love, you can't unring that bell. "Every aspect of the relationship can become fodder for public consumption and scrutiny, putting a spotlight on the couple and creating pressure to be seen as a healthy match," Jeff Guenther, licensed professional counselor and author of "Big Dating Energy," previously told USA TODAY. "You're also leaving yourself open to increased criticism." The 'hard launch' and controlling the narrative Dating is tricky no matter who you are, especially early on before you decide to start telling people. With celebrities, not only are they opening themselves to scrutiny from their family and friends, but often the whole world. In the beginning stages, it may also seem too good to be true, and shouting your love from the rooftops can feel like jinxing it. Last summer, when Sabrina Carpenter featured then-rumored beau, Irish actor Barry Keoghan, in the music video for "Please, Please, Please," the song begged him not to "embarrass" her. We can't speculate how Carpenter feels after that allegedly fizzled, but her newest single, "Manchild," may give listeners a clue. "When we introduce someone as our partner, there is an expectation that we've vetted this person," Kimberly Vered Shashoua, a licensed clinical social worker, previously told USA TODAY. "It can be embarrassing to have to go back to friends, family and Instagram and update them with a breakup." Think about all the couples, celebrities or otherwise, who never announce a thing. Often, it's a matter of self-preservation. All that said, it's easy to see why celebrities might want to shout about their relationships anyway. They're just like anyone else. It feels good to be in love. "When we feel confident in our partner, it can feel great to show them off," Shashoua said. "It's a lot easier to be honest with our friends and family than sneaking around. If we're active on social media, it can feel strange to have such a big part of your life hidden." Sabrina Carpenter, hookup culture and why the way we talk about sex is changing Risks, benefits of authenticity People must weigh the benefits and risks of authenticity when publicizing a private relationship. These "depend on what celebrities are getting out of it, the impact on their personal and professional lives and whether their choices are in line with their personality and core values," Cecille Ahrens, a licensed clinical social worker, previously told USA TODAY. No matter who you are, you give up pieces of yourself during a hard launch. Ahrens adds you may receive "unwanted attention" or face "constant boundary violations." Just ask Abrams, who faced criticism as rumors swirled about her and Mescal's relationship after his apparent breakup from Phoebe Bridgers. But with enough time passed, Abrams' "hard launch" has been met with support. The "hard launch" can even be a business strategy: "By being open about their relationships, celebrities can connect more deeply with their fans, boosting their parasocial relationships and most likely leading to more sales or followers," Guenther said. It's a decision that requires care and conversation. But at the end of the day, at least the decision is theirs. Contributing: David Oliver
