Latest news with #HeartbreakHotel
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
Loneliness as deadly as obesity and smoking pack a day, top health expert warns
Elvis Presley sang it in Heartbreak Hotel and now a top voice in American health says the classic song's chorus has become an alarming reality: Americans are feeling so lonely, they could die. Vivek Murthy, the former U.S. Surgeon General, is warning that the negative health impacts of chronic loneliness are comparable to some of the nation's biggest killers. 'The overall mortality increase that can be related to social disconnection is comparable to the mortality impact of smoking and obesity,' he told NBC's 'Meet the Press' on Sunday. 'That's how powerful and how important loneliness is.' He cautioned that loneliness and isolation can raise people's risk for dangerous health conditions Murthy astonishingly said he found that chronic loneliness is equivalent to smoking 15 cigarettes a day. 'Well, it turns out that our connection with one another, this is not just a nice thing to have, it's biologically an imperative for us,' he said. 'It's something we need for survival, just like we need food and water.' Raising awareness about the loneliness and isolation epidemic was a large part of his work during the Biden administration, releasing an advisory to call attention to the issue in 2023. The guidance included a six-pronged plan of action, including to enact pro-connection policies, reform digital environments, conduct more related research, and cultivate a culture of connection. Murthy said then that the consequences of poor social connection with others include a 29 percent increased risk of heart disease, a 32 percent increased risk of stroke, a 50 percent increased risk of developing dementia for older adults, and a 60 percent increased risk of premature death. It is also connected to an increased risk of type 2 diabetes. Those were only some of the physical repercussions. In addition, the risk of depression among people who report feeling lonely is more than twice that of those who rarely or never feel lonely. Loneliness and social isolation in childhood also increase the risk of depression and anxiety. In the U.S., about one in three adults report feeling lonely and around one in four report not having social and emotional support, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Certain people and groups are more at-risk, including low-income adults, young adults, older adults, adults living alone, immigrants, people with a mental or physical challenge, people who are victims of violence or abuse, people facing the loss of a love one or unemployment, and people in the LGBTQIA+ community. Murthy said that kids struggle the most. 'We tend to think, 'Oh. Kids are on social media. That's great because they're connected to one another.' But, no, we have to recognize there's a difference between the connections you have online and the connections you have in person,' Murthy said. As more relationships have shifted online, more kids are struggling with an 'intense' culture of comparison, are trying to be people they're not, and don't have as many in-person friendships as we need. 'One student [who] I talked to at a college, as I was traveling the country, he said to me ... 'How are we supposed to connect with one another when it's no longer the culture for people to talk to each other?'' Murthy recalled. 'And, I saw that on college campuses,' he said. A national survey from Harvard University previously found that 73 percent of those surveyed selected technology as contributing to loneliness in the country. 'Parents do have good reason to be worried right now,' Murthy added.


The Independent
6 days ago
- Health
- The Independent
Loneliness as deadly as obesity and smoking pack a day, top health expert warns
Elvis Presley sang it in Heartbreak Hotel and now a top voice in American health says the classic song's chorus has become an alarming reality: Americans are feeling so lonely, they could die. Vivek Murthy, the former U.S. Surgeon General, is warning that the negative health impacts of chronic loneliness are comparable to some of the nation's biggest killers. 'The overall mortality increase that can be related to social disconnection is comparable to the mortality impact of smoking and obesity,' he told NBC's 'Meet the Press' on Sunday. 'That's how powerful and how important loneliness is.' He cautioned that loneliness and isolation can raise people's risk for dangerous health conditions Murthy astonishingly said he found that chronic loneliness is equivalent to smoking 15 cigarettes a day. 'Well, it turns out that our connection with one another, this is not just a nice thing to have, it's biologically an imperative for us,' he said. 'It's something we need for survival, just like we need food and water.' Raising awareness about the loneliness and isolation epidemic was a large part of his work during the Biden administration, releasing an advisory to call attention to the issue in 2023. The guidance included a six-pronged plan of action, including to enact pro-connection policies, reform digital environments, conduct more related research, and cultivate a culture of connection. Murthy said then that the consequences of poor social connection with others include a 29 percent increased risk of heart disease, a 32 percent increased risk of stroke, a 50 percent increased risk of developing dementia for older adults, and a 60 percent increased risk of premature death. It is also connected to an increased risk of type 2 diabetes. Those were only some of the physical repercussions. In addition, the risk of depression among people who report feeling lonely is more than twice that of those who rarely or never feel lonely. Loneliness and social isolation in childhood also increase the risk of depression and anxiety. In the U.S., about one in three adults report feeling lonely and around one in four report not having social and emotional support, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Certain people and groups are more at-risk, including low-income adults, young adults, older adults, adults living alone, immigrants, people with a mental or physical challenge, people who are victims of violence or abuse, people facing the loss of a love one or unemployment, and people in the LGBTQIA+ community. Murthy said that kids struggle the most. 'We tend to think, 'Oh. Kids are on social media. That's great because they're connected to one another.' But, no, we have to recognize there's a difference between the connections you have online and the connections you have in person,' Murthy said. As more relationships have shifted online, more kids are struggling with an 'intense' culture of comparison, are trying to be people they're not, and don't have as many in-person friendships as we need. 'One student [who] I talked to at a college, as I was traveling the country, he said to me ... 'How are we supposed to connect with one another when it's no longer the culture for people to talk to each other?'' Murthy recalled. 'And, I saw that on college campuses,' he said. A national survey from Harvard University previously found that 73 percent of those surveyed selected technology as contributing to loneliness in the country. 'Parents do have good reason to be worried right now,' Murthy added.

Sydney Morning Herald
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
What becomes of the broken-hearted? This show breaks it to you gently
What's it like to have your heart broken? It's a bit like looking into the face of a predator. Things get physical very quickly. Your body is flooded with a fear hormone in a process commonly known as 'fight or flight'. Weeks or even months later, in those very rare cases where heartbreak changes the shape of someone's heart, some people will literally die of a broken heart. New Zealand writer and performer Karin McCracken was so fascinated by this that she made a show called Heartbreak Hotel with creative partner Eleanor Bishop, co-director of their contemporary theatre company, EBKM. Part of this year's Rising festival, it is the most affirming, original and compassionate exploration of heartbreak you'll likely ever see. McCracken plays the show's hero, who explains the science of heartbreak to us and sings classic break-up songs. The old myths start being toppled in the first five minutes as she repeats advice from her mother: 'Exercise. Try something new … but the idea that time is a great healer should not be used, because for many people time stops … and it's a terrible thing,' she tells the audience. McCracken, standing behind a synth (something new) on a stage lit like a shabby club, then launches into a cover of the Elvis song that lends the show its title. Later, there'll be other covers, from It's All Coming Back to Me Now by Celine Dion and Dreams by the Cranberries. The show immerses us — with utmost tenderness — in the story of a painful breakup. As this story unfolds, Simon Leary plays every other character: a bad Tinder date, a wise doctor, a supermarket employee, the best friend, and finally, the ex-boyfriend, whose invisible presence has haunted the show right up until the point when we finally meet him. McCracken began writing the show in 2021 when it felt, to her, as if the whole world was heartbroken. COVID provided a timely moment to explore the corners of grief. She and Bishop 'wanted to make a show about heartbreak that was useful,' she says. They were interested in a contradiction: how we have a huge pool of heartbreak stories to draw from, but often these books, movies and songs are built from the same 'four ideas' about how to heal. Let time soothe you. Meet someone new. Drink water and go running. Find a hobby. Her own experiences of heartbreak had led McCracken to think about whether the received wisdom was inadequate, so she returned to first principles. 'I'd been thinking [about] what happens to your body, because anyone who goes through a heartbreak will tell you that it's a huge period of change, and often, you get sick or you feel really unwell. A lot of people lose weight or look different.' She became fascinated by the physiology of a separation, from the minute you get dumped, to the weeks, months and years afterwards. What she found is consistently intriguing. In the first moments — when you're still sitting with the person who was, seconds ago, your long-term boyfriend — the body is flooded with norepinephrine, the fear hormone. This kicks off a cascading response from white blood cells, RNA (ribonucleic acid), and inflammatory proteins. Loading 'Our bodies think we can literally outrun or fight off a break-up at this point,' says McCracken, because physiologically we can't tell the difference between being dumped and, say, being attacked by a bear. The most startling thing is that the RNA that protects us from viruses is also stood down to funnel resources towards fighting the bear. Usually 'stars of the show', they now clog the system. McCracken points out the absurdity of this situation, which might last for months. 'So we're primed to punch through a wall, but more vulnerable to flu.' Weeks later the body is in its 'resignation' stage; 'if someone's going to die of heartbreak, it's in this phase,' says McCracken. There is even a rare syndrome whereby 'someone is under so much emotional distress their heart literally changes shape'. The show is carefully researched and, on one level, is a masterclass in science communication. It's also wildly entertaining. The challenge, says McCracken, was to bridge the gap between hard science, social science, popular accounts of heartbreak and 'anecdata'. The stage design adds clarity. Every time we return to the science, informative section titles flow along 21 LED panels behind McCracken, like neon headlines in Times Square. This light installation gives the show the lingering texture of a Las Vegas chapel at night. 'There is something relentless about neon to me, which feels appropriate for heartbreak,' she says. The power of Heartbreak Hotel also lies in the fact that it's drawn from experience; McCracken's vulnerability holds space for ours. I winced when McCracken's 'I love you' is met with Leary's pristine 'you too'. We have likely all been McCracken (or Leary) in this exchange. The show is serious about heartbreak, but it's also warm and silly. 'Some of the things we all do [in a break-up] are totally unhinged, so there should be a space where you can laugh about that,' says McCracken. 'Or, a space where you can manage to take the bits that are funny as funny, because there are plenty of bits that aren't.' Humour also underpins the pastoral care McCracken and Leary provide for the audience. Their performance is so naturalistic that audiences often mistake them for the couple they play. But they're actually long-term friends and collaborators. 'I love Simon on stage because he can drop into a character really easily and he also knows how to be with an audience,' McCracken says.

The Age
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
What becomes of the broken-hearted? This show breaks it to you gently
What's it like to have your heart broken? It's a bit like looking into the face of a predator. Things get physical very quickly. Your body is flooded with a fear hormone in a process commonly known as 'fight or flight'. Weeks or even months later, in those very rare cases where heartbreak changes the shape of someone's heart, some people will literally die of a broken heart. New Zealand writer and performer Karin McCracken was so fascinated by this that she made a show called Heartbreak Hotel with creative partner Eleanor Bishop, co-director of their contemporary theatre company, EBKM. Part of this year's Rising festival, it is the most affirming, original and compassionate exploration of heartbreak you'll likely ever see. McCracken plays the show's hero, who explains the science of heartbreak to us and sings classic break-up songs. The old myths start being toppled in the first five minutes as she repeats advice from her mother: 'Exercise. Try something new … but the idea that time is a great healer should not be used, because for many people time stops … and it's a terrible thing,' she tells the audience. McCracken, standing behind a synth (something new) on a stage lit like a shabby club, then launches into a cover of the Elvis song that lends the show its title. Later, there'll be other covers, from It's All Coming Back to Me Now by Celine Dion and Dreams by the Cranberries. The show immerses us — with utmost tenderness — in the story of a painful breakup. As this story unfolds, Simon Leary plays every other character: a bad Tinder date, a wise doctor, a supermarket employee, the best friend, and finally, the ex-boyfriend, whose invisible presence has haunted the show right up until the point when we finally meet him. McCracken began writing the show in 2021 when it felt, to her, as if the whole world was heartbroken. COVID provided a timely moment to explore the corners of grief. She and Bishop 'wanted to make a show about heartbreak that was useful,' she says. They were interested in a contradiction: how we have a huge pool of heartbreak stories to draw from, but often these books, movies and songs are built from the same 'four ideas' about how to heal. Let time soothe you. Meet someone new. Drink water and go running. Find a hobby. Her own experiences of heartbreak had led McCracken to think about whether the received wisdom was inadequate, so she returned to first principles. 'I'd been thinking [about] what happens to your body, because anyone who goes through a heartbreak will tell you that it's a huge period of change, and often, you get sick or you feel really unwell. A lot of people lose weight or look different.' She became fascinated by the physiology of a separation, from the minute you get dumped, to the weeks, months and years afterwards. What she found is consistently intriguing. In the first moments — when you're still sitting with the person who was, seconds ago, your long-term boyfriend — the body is flooded with norepinephrine, the fear hormone. This kicks off a cascading response from white blood cells, RNA (ribonucleic acid), and inflammatory proteins. Loading 'Our bodies think we can literally outrun or fight off a break-up at this point,' says McCracken, because physiologically we can't tell the difference between being dumped and, say, being attacked by a bear. The most startling thing is that the RNA that protects us from viruses is also stood down to funnel resources towards fighting the bear. Usually 'stars of the show', they now clog the system. McCracken points out the absurdity of this situation, which might last for months. 'So we're primed to punch through a wall, but more vulnerable to flu.' Weeks later the body is in its 'resignation' stage; 'if someone's going to die of heartbreak, it's in this phase,' says McCracken. There is even a rare syndrome whereby 'someone is under so much emotional distress their heart literally changes shape'. The show is carefully researched and, on one level, is a masterclass in science communication. It's also wildly entertaining. The challenge, says McCracken, was to bridge the gap between hard science, social science, popular accounts of heartbreak and 'anecdata'. The stage design adds clarity. Every time we return to the science, informative section titles flow along 21 LED panels behind McCracken, like neon headlines in Times Square. This light installation gives the show the lingering texture of a Las Vegas chapel at night. 'There is something relentless about neon to me, which feels appropriate for heartbreak,' she says. The power of Heartbreak Hotel also lies in the fact that it's drawn from experience; McCracken's vulnerability holds space for ours. I winced when McCracken's 'I love you' is met with Leary's pristine 'you too'. We have likely all been McCracken (or Leary) in this exchange. The show is serious about heartbreak, but it's also warm and silly. 'Some of the things we all do [in a break-up] are totally unhinged, so there should be a space where you can laugh about that,' says McCracken. 'Or, a space where you can manage to take the bits that are funny as funny, because there are plenty of bits that aren't.' Humour also underpins the pastoral care McCracken and Leary provide for the audience. Their performance is so naturalistic that audiences often mistake them for the couple they play. But they're actually long-term friends and collaborators. 'I love Simon on stage because he can drop into a character really easily and he also knows how to be with an audience,' McCracken says.


Tom's Guide
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Tom's Guide
'Lilo & Stitch' is a heartwarming live-action remake that respects the original magic — and it transported me back to my childhood
I grew up with 'Lilo & Stitch,' like a lot of people in my generation probably did. It was one of those movies I played on repeat until the DVD became overused and started skipping. Lilo felt like the kind of kid you didn't see often in animated movies: messy, misunderstood and completely herself. And Stitch was pure chaotic charm. So when Disney invited me to an early screening of the new live-action remake, I knew I had to go. Admittedly, I was a little skeptical. Like many fans of the original, I've seen how live-action remakes can sometimes miss the mark. But here's the surprise: not only does this version honor the soul of the original, it actually strengthens some of the emotional beats. It's still about family, loss and belonging, but told in a way that feels slightly more grounded, without sacrificing the fun. Hannah Waddingham (who voices the Ground Councilwoman) actually popped up at the early screening of 'Lilo & Stitch' and called the movie a 'juicy berry,' which felt like the perfect way to describe something so sweet, lively, and full of heart. The real question: Does it work? Is it worth the trip back to the islands with a new cast, new look, and new energy? Here's my full take on Disney's latest reimagining — what it gets right, where it takes creative swings, and why it might just be one of Disney's strongest live-action remakes to date. From the opening notes of Elvis Presley's 'Heartbreak Hotel' played by Lilo when she was having a tantrum to the familiar sight of the ice cream man's cone meeting its inevitable fate, Disney's live-action 'Lilo & Stitch' is a heartfelt homage to the 2002 original. Watching it with my dad (who introduced me to the animated classic when I was little), I found us both discreetly wiping away tears by the time the credits rolled. Clearly, this movie did something right. 'Lilo & Stitch' pretty much follows the same plot beats as the original. We start off by seeing the Galactic Federation, led by Ground Councilwoman (Waddingham), convicting Dr. Jumba for illegal experiments after he creates Experiment 626 — a 'destructive, intelligent creature.' When 626 escapes and crash-lands in Hawaii, he's mistaken for a dog and taken to a shelter. It's there that Lilo ends up adopting him and naming him Stitch after he accidentally rips the leather seats in Nani's car. Fans of the original will be pleased to know that the remake doesn't venture far from the classic in terms of storytelling. This remake actually has fun introducing new scenes, and they don't detract from the experience at all. When Stitch explores his new surroundings after crashing on Earth, he ends up unintentionally gate-crashing a wedding when he smells the cake, and it's a hilariously fun watch. There are also wholesome moments between Lilo and Stitch, including splashing each other with lemonade, her teaching him how not to break things and a sweet moment where she teaches him a form of hula dancing. At the center of this emotional journey, and the reason why the remake works so well, is newcomer Maia Kealoha, whose portrayal of Lilo is nothing short of impressive. She brings so much warmth and honesty to the character, capturing all the things that made Lilo so special in the original: the mischief, the loneliness, the stubbornness, and that deep need to feel like she belongs. The movie thoughtfully preserves the original's core themes — grief, identity, and the unbreakable bonds of family — while introducing them to a new generation. It hits that sweet spot where kids can enjoy the fun and chaos, but adults will feel the emotional weight, too. What really got me, though (and why you need tissues), was Lilo and Nani's relationship. Their dynamic has always been the heart of the story, but this version made it feel even more real. Sydney Agudong brings a grounded, emotional weight to Nani that makes their bond feel even more powerful than I remember. You can feel the love and frustration between them, and it gives the story substance. Director Dean Fleischer Camp (of 'Marcel the Shell with Shoes On' fame) brings that same mix of tenderness and humor here, and it works beautifully. And the decision to have Chris Sanders reprise his role as the voice of Stitch adds a layer of continuity that fans will appreciate. Like most live-action remakes, 'Lilo & Stitch' makes a few changes along the way, but luckily, none of them take away from the story's emotional core. In fact, most of the updates feel more like clever workarounds than major detours. One of the biggest changes is that Jumba and Pleakley appear as humans while on Earth. This was clearly a budget decision since animating two aliens for the entire movie would've been a major challenge. Surprisingly, it works, as the aliens use a device on two tourists at the resort, allowing them to take their physical form. Their personalities are still totally intact, and it was actually pretty fun watching Zach Galifianakis and Billy Magnussen bounce off each other in these roles. Their chemistry adds a lot of humor and heart, even if their appearances are more grounded than fans might expect. Another noticeable absence is Captain Gantu. He's a towering alien military officer originally tasked with capturing Experiment 626 after Jumba and Pleakley fail their mission. Again, this was probably due to CGI constraints, but the movie finds a smart way around it. Instead of introducing another alien presence to introduce the conflict in the third act, the story leans more heavily into Jumba's arc. He essentially steps into the antagonist role near the end. His motivations are still tied to retrieving Stitch, and it gives his character a little more depth in the process. The movie also slips in some fun nods for long-time fans. Tia Carrere, who originally voiced Nani, now appears as the social worker. There's also a live-action version of Tūtū (Amy Hill), the neighbor from the 'Lilo & Stitch' series and grandmother of David (Kaipo Dudoit). Speaking of David, I felt as though his performance got a little lost in this remake, and that was likely due to the heavy focus on Lilo and Nani's sibling conflict (which fortunately paid off). These cameos don't shift the story much, but they're nice touches. The only change that raised an eyebrow was turning Cobra Bubbles (Courtney B. Vance) into a CIA agent hunting the aliens, but even that felt like it fit into this version's slightly more grounded tone. All in all, the tweaks are noticeable, but they don't mess with the spirit of the movie. It's still 'Lilo & Stitch' at its core, just with a few new tricks to please a new generation. 'Lilo & Stitch' proves that a live-action remake can honor the original while still feeling fresh. It keeps the heart, humor, and emotional depth that made the 2002 movie so beloved, all while introducing smart updates for a new generation. The cast is excellent, especially Maia Kealoha and Sydney Agudong, and the movie's thoughtful changes (though not perfect) never take away from its soul. It's nostalgic without being hollow, emotional without being forced, and funny in all the right ways. Overall, it feels like this remake was made by people who genuinely get what 'Lilo & Stitch' means to so many of us. It adds something new and somehow makes the magic feel fresh all over again. Final warning, though: You'll definitely need tissues.