Latest news with #MarcMaron
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
'Stick' on Apple TV+: Marc Maron helped shape most emotional scene with Owen Wilson, pushing for fewer jokes
For weeks, the most popular show on Apple TV+ has be Stick, starring Owen Wilson, Peter Dager, Marc Maron, Lilli Kay and Mariana Treviño. It's a story about a washed-up ex-golf pro, Pryce Cahill (Wilson), who sees potential in young protégé Santi Wheeler (Dager), and wants to train him to be the next great golf superstar. Many have found similarities between Stick and another Apple TV+ hit, Ted Lasso, with both shows including an appealing mix of heartwarming moments, hysterical comedy and sports. Stick adds to the existing catalogue of shows that are simply sweet and hopeful stories. Additionally, it features a robust ensemble cast, each with their own interesting character arcs to explore. But of course, the show comes with the added pressure for much of its cast to beef up their golf skills. "I love being bad at things, and I love growing and getting better at things," Dager told Yahoo Canada. "As an actor, that's kind of what you dream about. You want to go somewhere else to portray a certain character. You want to learn." That includes a particularly fun moment when Owen's character Pryce is trying to teach Zero (Kay) about golf, to become Peter's caddie. "I was along for the ride with Zero there. I was really just learning, learning about golf," Kay said. "I think for me, it was just so much fun because that was the beginning of my falling in love with golf, and I think it was the start for Zero as well." Santi reconnects with his estranged father As we approach the season finale this week, the penultimate episode ends with Santi's estranged father, Gary (Mackenzie Astin) showing up at the PGA tournament, opening up space to really dive into the trauma that Santi holds from his father, who we know is the person who both initially made Santi interested in golf, and also resulted in him staying away from the sport for so long. "That was the most exciting part ... to earn your way to those last episodes, to be able to go and live through that as Santi," Dager shared. "The cool thing about the show is you learn all the way up until the end. It's entertainment, but you're also being informed about these characters, and everything is getting deeper and deeper and deeper, and you get to learn a whole new layer about all of them." And of course a core part of this relationship is how it impacts Santi's mother Elena (Mariana Treviño), and how she responds. "Peter was very engaging, ... since the beginning, day one, he had sent [me texts]," Treviño said. "He was like, 'Hey, I'm going be your son. Let's have coffee.' So he really made an effort to connect ... and to introduce himself." "And in my case it was wonderful, because I arrived late because of a problem I had with my passport, it was lost right before getting into the plane. So I was a bit nervous and flustered. And once I got to set and there was Peter, and he's so mature and he's so loving, and we just connected instantly." Establishing a 'believable' friendship with 'organic' comedy A particularly entertaining element of the show is the friendship between Pryce and Mitts (Marc Maron), brilliantly established at the beginning of the season by a great scene after they orchestrate their betting scheme at a local bar. The two have a conversation in Pryce's car, where Pryce tells Mitts he can "ease up" talking about his as a failure, but Mitts says the details are important. It's a really effective bit of banter to understand this relationship. "Owen and I, we connected pretty quickly," Maron said. "And the interesting thing about that scene is that I'm him a little bit, I'm getting out my own petty anger at my best friend." "There was a lot weighing on that scene, because when we entered it the big question was, is it going to be believable that these guys have known each other for over 20 years? And there was just something that we clicked into. ... I'm glad you like that scene, because they were all, I wouldn't say worried about it, but it was a big test of the believability." The balance that Stick strikes between comedy and emotional moments is an aspirational goal for many, as it's executed so successfully in this show. Reflecting on that achievement, Maron really saw that combination the first time he read the scripts and looked at the characters Pryce and Mitts. "These guys are traumatized by grief, and ... a lot of what defines them as aging friends is this unspoken connection to a true sadness. ... I think both of them ... are doing all they can to to avoid those feelings," he said. "The reason it works is because it's organic, because there's a tension within them that seeks release, and the process of them doing that together is comedic." "When we end up having this fight that is almost ridiculous, the arc of that fight, where I'm pushing him to own his grief, and then for us to get into this scuffle, and then just end up laying there, ... that is funny. But it's not a joke funny, it's all sort of true to the characters. And I was very vigilant about the writing in that and making suggestions around beats that were diminished by a joke. There were a couple of scenes where I'm like, you don't have to button this with a joke, you can let this feeling be its own thing, and it's going to be enough. So I was aware of that because the comedy was organic."


The Guardian
12-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
There's an art to staging a comeback. But the best artists know when it's time to take a pause
When the comedian Marc Maron announced he would soon end his pioneering interview podcast WTF – famed over nearly 16 years for hosting fellow comedians, wider celebrities and even Barack Obama (when he was more president than content creator) in his garage – he said something you don't often hear: 'It's OK for things to end.' In the time of the relentless scroll, culture often feels like it is drowning in cynical money grabs, nostalgia, franchises and 'IP rentierism'. Bands, TV shows and film concepts are either never-ending or ever-repeating. It was refreshing, then, to see something stop in such a poised manner rather than descend into irrelevance and indifference. Maron gave no major reason for quitting beyond that he and his producer were a bit burnt out and it was the right moment. 'I don't think we live in a time where people of my generation and slightly older know how to move on from anything or stop,' he said. Regardless of the manner of the ending, though, there is often an urge to return – be it out of financial need, creative desire, sheer boredom or some sense of unfinished business. Maron's guest when the departure was announced was the comedian John Mulaney, who responded: 'If you miss it and you want to come back … just come back,' he said. 'I sometimes feel bad for people that feel trapped by their finale.' No one is really keeping score of the comings and goings, though for a long time I think I was overly invested. I wanted to resist the plethora of reunions, particularly in music and TV, that have littered the last two decades. There has been a deadening sense of stagnation. More directly, the comebacks could often be dispiriting: a group of tired-faced older people vainly chasing their shadows to cash a cheque. But as Mulaney suggested, the comeback offers new possibilities. And even if it falls flat, intrigue abounds. I asked a few friends what they made of the Sex and the City reboot, And Just Like That, which, now in its third season, elicits unusual responses. They all say it is absolutely terrible, a shadow of its former self, and yet perplexingly compelling. They are watching every new episode. Many reunion audiences, meanwhile, just want to relive the magic – or experience it for the first time. It's hard to quibble with the sentiment. Even the most fervent Britpop idealist doesn't think Liam and Noel Gallagher revived Oasis because the brothers missed spending time together. As many pointed out, the starting pistol for the band's reunion might have been fired when Noel announced his divorce in January 2023. There is a lot of money to be made in their tour. Though, given the price gouging, a little bit too much money. But as the mass singalongs and pints-in-the-air hysteria at their first gigs in Cardiff last week showed, there is a huge amount of fun to be had in communing together, singing along to songs that, while 30-odd years old, remain timeless. My own resolve about comebacks softened sometime after LCD Soundsystem returned in 2016. James Murphy's group had initially disbanded in 2011 with a grand farewell concert at Madison Square Garden (the moment was preserved in a lavish documentary). For a band so self-reflexive and studied in its references, a 'hell freezes over' reunion tour was probably inevitable. But the speed at which this was happening – only five years! – seemed cynical, almost insulting. It looked like a blot on what they had previously achieved. Reluctantly I went to one of their 2017 reunion shows, and well, it was great. What I realised was that being overly precious about reunions and revivals was ultimately pointless: the whole rhythm of how they came, went and then came back again was a bit of an artificial construct anyway. If new shows give lots of fans a chance to see them play and provide pleasure, there's nothing wrong with that. LCD Soundsystem released a 'comeback' album in 2017. It's fine. There is a handful of strong songs on it, but their vital moment had passed. However, the idea of tarnishing an earlier legacy is somewhat arbitrary – one great piece of art doesn't necessarily get diminished because a later related piece of art isn't at the same level. I have no interest in watching a second of the Frasier revival that emerged in 2023, somehow including Nick Lyndhurst. It has now been cancelled, but regardless, it couldn't spoil any Channel 4 morning commune with the original series of Seattle's finest radio psychotherapist (itself, of course, a spin-off from Cheers). Often when a band returns, their new music sounds like some required throat-clearing to help justify further tours. I was surprised then to find I loved Pulp's recent comeback single, Spike Island. It was a track of wit and invention that stood comfortably alongside their best work. The ensuing album More stands up to repeated listens too. A well-timed revival can offer something new. And yet I remain drawn to the elegant and elongated pause. By all accounts Maron has no intention of retiring, with various projects on the boil beyond his podcast. But there is a certain grace in calmly walking away from the work that defined you. The once-behemoth alt-rock band REM amicably called it a day in 2011 after a series of albums with diminishing returns. It's striking how absent the band are from culture now, given how big they were just a few decades earlier. Amid constant rounds of 80s and 90s nostalgia, surely there have been some lucrative reunion tour offers. Yet aside from the occasional interview and impromptu performance, there has been nothing. For me, the group's frontman, Michael Stipe, has had one of the great post-band semi-retirements. If Instagram is a guide – and that platform is an entirely accurate representation of life – he seems to have spent the last decade doing assorted creative projects, some political activism, visiting friends' art shows around the world and generally just having a lovely old time (although he did delete all his posts in early 2025). Granted, there's been a more vexed attempt to make a solo album, long in gestation. But he's a model of the form – if you can afford it, of course. Perhaps the key isn't whether you return or not – it's knowing when to pause when you've run out of creative energy, space or time. The audience can decide on the rest. Larry Ryan is a freelance writer and editor


The Guardian
12-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
There's an art to staging a comeback. But the best artists know when it's time to take a pause
When the comedian Marc Maron announced he would soon end his pioneering interview podcast WTF – famed over nearly 16 years for hosting fellow comedians, wider celebrities and even Barack Obama (when he was more president than content creator) in his garage – he said something you don't often hear: 'It's OK for things to end.' In the time of the relentless scroll, culture often feels like it is drowning in cynical money grabs, nostalgia, franchises and 'IP rentierism'. Bands, TV shows and film concepts are either never-ending or ever-repeating. It was refreshing, then, to see something stop in such a poised manner rather than descend into irrelevance and indifference. Maron gave no major reason for quitting beyond that he and his producer were a bit burnt out and it was the right moment. 'I don't think we live in a time where people of my generation and slightly older know how to move on from anything or stop,' he said. Regardless of the manner of the ending, though, there is often an urge to return – be it out of financial need, creative desire, sheer boredom or some sense of unfinished business. Maron's guest when the departure was announced was the comedian John Mulaney, who responded: 'If you miss it and you want to come back … just come back,' he said. 'I sometimes feel bad for people that feel trapped by their finale.' No one is really keeping score of the comings and goings, though for a long time I think I was overly invested. I wanted to resist the plethora of reunions, particularly in music and TV, that have littered the last two decades. There has been a deadening sense of stagnation. More directly, the comebacks could often be dispiriting: a group of tired-faced older people vainly chasing their shadows to cash a cheque. But as Mulaney suggested, the comeback offers new possibilities. And even if it falls flat, intrigue abounds. I asked a few friends what they made of the Sex and the City reboot, And Just Like That, which, now in its third season, elicits unusual responses. They all say it is absolutely terrible, a shadow of its former self, and yet perplexingly compelling. They are watching every new episode. Many reunion audiences, meanwhile, just want to relive the magic – or experience it for the first time. It's hard to quibble with the sentiment. Even the most fervent Britpop idealist doesn't think Liam and Noel Gallagher revived Oasis because the brothers missed spending time together. As many pointed out, the starting pistol for the band's reunion might have been fired when Noel announced his divorce in January 2023. There is a lot of money to be made in their tour. Though, given the price gouging, a little bit too much money. But as the mass singalongs and pints-in-the-air hysteria at their first gigs in Cardiff last week showed, there is a huge amount of fun to be had in communing together, singing along to songs that, while 30-odd years old, remain timeless. My own resolve about comebacks softened sometime after LCD Soundsystem returned in 2016. James Murphy's group had initially disbanded in 2011 with a grand farewell concert at Madison Square Garden (the moment was preserved in a lavish documentary). For a band so self-reflexive and studied in its references, a 'hell freezes over' reunion tour was probably inevitable. But the speed at which this was happening – only five years! – seemed cynical, almost insulting. It looked like a blot on what they had previously achieved. Reluctantly I went to one of their 2017 reunion shows, and well, it was great. What I realised was that being overly precious about reunions and revivals was ultimately pointless: the whole rhythm of how they came, went and then came back again was a bit of an artificial construct anyway. If new shows give lots of fans a chance to see them play and provide pleasure, there's nothing wrong with that. LCD Soundsystem released a 'comeback' album in 2017. It's fine. There is a handful of strong songs on it, but their vital moment had passed. However, the idea of tarnishing an earlier legacy is somewhat arbitrary – one great piece of art doesn't necessarily get diminished because a later related piece of art isn't at the same level. I have no interest in watching a second of the Frasier revival that emerged in 2023, somehow including Nick Lyndhurst. It has now been cancelled, but regardless, it couldn't spoil any Channel 4 morning commune with the original series of Seattle's finest radio psychotherapist (itself, of course, a spin-off from Cheers). Often when a band returns, their new music sounds like some required throat-clearing to help justify further tours. I was surprised then to find I loved Pulp's recent comeback single, Spike Island. It was a track of wit and invention that stood comfortably alongside their best work. The ensuing album More stands up to repeated listens too. A well-timed revival can offer something new. And yet I remain drawn to the elegant and elongated pause. By all accounts Maron has no intention of retiring, with various projects on the boil beyond his podcast. But there is a certain grace in calmly walking away from the work that defined you. The once-behemoth alt-rock band REM amicably called it a day in 2011 after a series of albums with diminishing returns. It's striking how absent the band are from culture now, given how big they were just a few decades earlier. Amid constant rounds of 80s and 90s nostalgia, surely there have been some lucrative reunion tour offers. Yet aside from the occasional interview and impromptu performance, there has been nothing. For me, the group's frontman, Michael Stipe, has had one of the great post-band semi-retirements. If Instagram is a guide – and that platform is an entirely accurate representation of life – he seems to have spent the last decade doing assorted creative projects, some political activism, visiting friends' art shows around the world and generally just having a lovely old time (although he did delete all his posts in early 2025). Granted, there's been a more vexed attempt to make a solo album, long in gestation. But he's a model of the form – if you can afford it, of course. Perhaps the key isn't whether you return or not – it's knowing when to pause when you've run out of creative energy, space or time. The audience can decide on the rest. Larry Ryan is a freelance writer and editor


Time of India
23-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Marc Maron's new comedy special to stream in August
Actor and musician Marc Maron's new comedy special will be available to stream on HBO Max starting August 1, according to The Hollywood Reporter. Actor and musician Marc Maron 's new comedy special will be available to stream on HBO Max starting August 1, according to The Hollywood Reporter. The special, entitled Marc Maron: Panicked, will be Maron's second special for HBO and his sixth stand-up special overall. Details about the content of the special are sparse, but it describes the show saying "comedian and podcaster Marc Maron offers up his nuanced perspective on our increasingly uncertain world. " Maron is also the host of the long-running podcast WTF with Marc Maron (which he announced will end this fall after a 16-year run), as well as an actor in Netflix's Glow, the scripted series Maron, and the Apple TV+ golf comedy series Stick, in which he currently stars, as per The Hollywood Reporter. "I feel that this is the best work I've done. Everything came together. The direction, the production design, the shirt and the bits. HBO gets me and I'm thrilled to be presented by them," Maron said. "Marc is one of the all-time greats. His standup has a way of making you laugh while also cutting right to the bone -- he's funny, raw, and entirely one of a kind. We're so happy to work with him on his second HBO special," said Nina Rosenstein, executive vice president, HBO Programming, Late Night and Specials. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like 임플란트 29만원 이벤트 임플란트 더 알아보기 Undo The comedy special will air at 8:00 p.m. on HBO and will be available to stream on HBO Max. The show is performed, written and executive produced by Marc Maron, executive produced by David Martin, produced by Avalon and directed by Steven Feinartz, according to The Hollywood Reporter.


Geek Tyrant
21-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Geek Tyrant
Great Trailer For Documentary ANXIETY CLUB Explores the Cross Section Between Anxiety and Comedy — GeekTyrant
A great trailer has been released for the documentary feature Anxiety Club , which explores anxiety within the comedy community. It features interviews, stand-up, and even therapy sessions with comedians Tiffany Jenkins, Joe List, Marc Maron, Aparna Nancherla, Mark Normand, Baron Vaughn, and Eva Victor. The doc is directed by Wendy Lobel ( Bold Visions: Women in Science & Technology ). The synopsis reads: 'Anxiety Club provides an intimate and humorous look at anxiety through the eyes & minds of some of the most brilliant comedians today. Marc Maron, Tiffany Jenkins, Baron Vaughn, Aparna Nancherla, Mark Normand, Eva Victor, and Joe List offer candid reflections on their relationship with anxiety in exclusive interviews, standup performances, sketch videos, therapy sessions, and everyday life. 'With rare access to private therapy sessions, the film follows comedian Tiffany Jenkins (a content creator with over 9 million followers) as she undergoes behavioral therapy, capturing the profound changes her treatment brings about. 'Others find support in alternative sources, such as world-renowned meditation expert Tara Brach, PhD, or the psychologist-in-residence at The Laugh Factory, or other mentors in the comedy community.' This looks like a great watch. We've all been touched by anxiety in one way or another, and I like looking at it through the perspective of comedy. Check out the trailer below, and watch Anxiety Club when it's released on the streaming service Jolt on August 15th.