Latest news with #MaryPoppins'
New York Post
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Post
Dick Van Dyke, 99, reveals the heartbreaking ‘curse' of living to almost 100
Dick Van Dyke has experienced heartache in aging. The 99-year-old Hollywood legend spoke about how he's lost special people in his life during a recent Q&A where he reflected on Ed Asner's death in 2021 before they could make a remake of 'The Odd Couple.' 'That would've been such fun, and we lost it,' said Van Dyke, per People. 'I've lost a lot of friends.' Advertisement 8 Dick Van Dyke hosts the second 'Vandy Camp' to aid fire relief in Malibu on April 20. BACKGRID 8 Dick Van Dyke steps out in Malibu in April 2025. BACKGRID 8 Dick Van Dyke in 1960. Michael Ochs Archives Advertisement 'He's outlived everybody,' Van Dyke's wife, Arlene Silver, added at the event in Malibu, Calif. 'That's the curse of living to almost 100,' she shared. 8 Arlene Silver and Dick Van Dyke at the CBS Original Special 'Dick Van Dyke: 98 Years of Magic' in 2023. CBS via Getty Images But Silver, 53, also noted that Van Dyke is 'still so positive' despite the deaths of so many of his friends and former co-stars. Advertisement When asked how he maintains a positive outlook on life, Van Dyke replied, 'Well, life's been good to me. I can't complain.' The 'Mary Poppins' star has been married to Silver since 2012. 8 Arlene Silver and Dick Van Dyke at the AMD British Academy Britannia Awards in 2017. REUTERS Van Dyke revealed last month how the couple make their marriage work despite their 46-year age gap. Advertisement 'We get along so well,' he told People, as Silver added, 'We just care about each other so much.' 'Everybody said it wouldn't work,' Van Dyke recalled. 8 Dick Van Dyke on his sitcom in 1961. Courtesy Everett Collection Along with a happy marriage, Van Dyke has kept up a healthy lifestyle that he's said involves going to the gym multiple times a week. 'Somebody said, 'To what do you attribute your age and physical condition?' I've always exercised three days a week,' he shared in January on Ted Danson's podcast, 'Where Everybody Knows Your Name.' 8 Dick Van Dyke attends the 43rd Annual Kennedy Center Honors in 2021. Getty Images 'We go to the gym still, and I think that's why I'm not stove up like my equals,' Van Dyke said. Danson, 77, told Van Dyke: 'I would go to the same gym you did, and if I got there early enough, I would see you literally work out on some weight machine. And then, almost like you were doing circuit training, you would not walk to the next machine, you'd dance. You literally danced to the next machine.' Advertisement 8 Dick Van Dyke at the 19th Annual Screen Actors Guild Awards in 2013. WireImage While his health is fine, Van Dyke faced a scary incident earlier this year when his home was threatened by the deadly Palisades Fire. He and Silver did not evacuate their $8 million house despite the blaze destroying other celebrity mansions in Malibu and adjacent areas. When the fires hit the couple's neighborhood, Van Dyke tried to crawl to the car to escape. Luckily, his neighbors came to his aid at the time.
Perth Now
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
Dick Van Dyke admits he has ‘lost a lot of friends' while discussing toll of living until near 100
Dick Van Dyke has spoken candidly about the emotional toll of nearing 100, saying: 'I've lost a lot of friends.' The 99-year-old star of 'Mary Poppins' and 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang' made the comments during a question and answer event in Malibu, California, alongside his wife, Arlene Silver, 53, while he reflected on the death of his long-time friend and co-star Ed Asner in 2021, which halted plans for a remake of 'The Odd Couple'. He was quoted by People saying about the stalled project: 'That would've been such fun, and we lost it. '(But) I've lost a lot of friends.' Arlene, who has been married to Dick since 2012, responded: 'He's outlived everybody. That's the curse of living to almost 100.' The couple appeared at the event to discuss Dick's career, health, and their relationship, which has drawn attention due to their 46-year age gap. Despite the difference in age, both described their bond as strong and enduring. 'We get along so well. Everybody said it wouldn't work,' Dick said. Arlene agreed: 'We just care about each other so much. It's eerie how well [the marriage] works. People the same age don't last,' she added with a laugh. Dick, whose birthday is on 13 December, has often credited his long life and good health to a steady exercise routine. 'I've always exercised, three days a week,' he said in January on the 'Where Everybody Knows Your Name' podcast. He added: 'I get down and do a lot of stretching and yoga,' before noting he uses workout equipment to achieve a full-body sweat. Despite the sorrow of outliving many close friends and co-stars, Arlene noted that Dick has remained 'so positive'. 'Well, life's been good to me. I can't complain,' Dick said. He also said he's looking forward to marking his centennial birthday with a celebration. During his podcast interview, he also said he was planning a 'big party' to commemorate turning 100.
Los Angeles Times
13-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Disneyland reopens ‘It's a Small World' ride with new additions from ‘Coco'
Two beloved characters from the Pixar movie 'Coco' will join the international ensemble of 'It's a Small World' at Disneyland, which is reopening Tuesday after a five-month renovation. The popular attraction has been closed since January for a standard maintenance refurbishment, Disneyland officials said. The characters Miguel and his sidekick and alebrije, Dante, from the 2017 movie 'Coco' are now prominently featured as riders pass through the Mexico scenes in the attraction, which features figures of people and animals from across the world. Miguel and Dante are the only physical additions or changes riders can expect, Disneyland officials confirmed Tuesday. But the familiar tune 'It's a Small World' will soon include a new verse by songwriter and frequent Walt Disney collaborator Richard M. Sherman. Beginning July 17, riders will hear the third and final verse of the tune during the attraction's finale. Sherman, who died last May, wrote the new lyrics in his final of many contributions to Disney, which, along with his brother and songwriting partner, Robert, included music for 'Mary Poppins' and 'The Jungle Book.' As a part of the celebration of Disneyland's 70th Anniversary, park visitors at the Main Street Cinema can watch a three-minute film called 'The Last Verse,' which celebrates the iconic song's 60th anniversary and unveils the new verse. Another anniversary celebration bonus, a nighttime projection show called 'Tapestry of Happiness,' will project animations of Disneyland experiences and beloved characters onto the facade of the 'It's a Small World' attraction. The show's animation and visual effects are inspired by the work of legendary Disney artist Mary Blair. All of Disneyland's 70th anniversary celebrations and new experiences will kick off July 17.
Budapest Times
03-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Budapest Times
Tragedies, triumphs of a life off and on stage and screen
It's a bit of a relief to read in British actor David Tomlinson's autobiography his recognition that he was known for 'my dimwitted upper-class twit performances' – a relief because if you had asked us here at The Budapest Times to describe Tomlinson, we would have been tempted to say, 'You know, that bloke who often used to play dimwitted upper-class twits in films', but we certainly would have hesitated to do so, for risk of 1) causing offence to the family, and 2) failing to recognise a career wider than that. So, if Tomlinson was self-aware enough, good for him, and us, and if we think back to British films of his peak period in the 1940s-1970s we can do so without guilt, because you'd have to agree that he and Ian Carmichael had basically cornered the market when it came to topping casting directors' lists of candidates to fill the parts of dimwitted upper-class twits. Tomlinson made 50 films and we haven't seen a whole lot of them, partly because he seems to be primarily remembered for three roles in Walt Disney films, and this is the sort of soppy family fare that we tend to avoid. He made a big name for himself in Disney's huge hit 'Mary Poppins' (1964), appearing as Glynis Johns' husband and singing 'Let's Go Fly a Kite'. His other two successes in the Disney trio were 'The Love Bug' in 1968 and 'Bedknobs and Broomsticks' in 1971. But rather we prefer to think of him in 'The Wooden Horse' (1950) tunnelling out of Stalag Luft III, a German POW camp for officers. Also, he was one of the 'Three Men in a Boat' (1956), based on Jerome K. Jerome's 1889 novel (a book we love) containing non-stop twittishness not just from Tomlinson, as Jerome, but from all three bods. Another was 'The Chiltern Hundreds' (1949), in which Tomlinson was again a trademark genial high-born ass, playing Tony, Viscout Pym, the son of a lord who becomes a Labour candidate for Member of Parliament, and we've also seen him in two of the four old-fashioned but enjoyable Huggetts films, 'Here Come the Huggetts' in 1948 and 'Vote for Huggett' in 1949. Jack Warner, later of 'Dixon of Dock Green' TV fame, and Kathleen Harrison starred in these family-friendly British efforts, with a young Petula Clark. Such films give a fair idea of the Tomlinson niche. However, as he points out he did play a wide range of characters, from heroes and amiable silly asses to dignified old gentlemen. For good measure, he was even a wicked villain, dying with a bullet in his chest in the back of a plane, the only time, as far as he could recall, when he wasn't basically a 'nice guy'. And he had a solid stage craeer too, often filming during the day and working in the theatre at night. With a growing family of four sons he was rather keen on money, and one of the boys was autistic, presenting considerable problems. Here, good people helped cope. Actors usually lead very fascinating lives, engrossing to we in the common herd, and Tomlinson's memories are entertaining for sure. Here are encounters to satisfy any cinephile, with Anthony Asquith, Ralph Richardson, Robert Morley, Errol Flynn, Peter Sellers, Walt Disney, Vanessa Redgrave, Noël Coward and other luminaries. Also King George VI and Queen Elizabeth, and later the Princess Royal, plus adventures on foreign lands with good times in Hollywood and bad times witnessing the appalling apartheid of South Africa. Whether its people were black or white, they were good to Tomlinson. David Cecil MacAlister Tomlinson was born on May 7, 1917 in Henley-on-Thames and died aged 83 on June 24, 2000 in King Edward VII's Hospital, London, after a stroke. It was a joke of his that he wanted the words 'David Tomlinson, an actor of genius, irresistible to women' on his headstone. (He was buried in the grounds of his home in Buckinghamshire, wording unknown.) The autobiography was published in 1990 and is now available again in a new edition from Dean Street Press, a publisher 'devoted to uncovering and revitalizing good books'. Tomlinson's is well worthy of such attention. From his earliest remembered family days to the world of films it is a winner, with unusual tales nicely told. Some would make good plots. These don't come much odder than that of Tomlinson's father Clarence, an outwardly respectable solicitor but given to rages at home. He horrified even himself when once he burned David's hand with a domestic iron, to teach the boy, aged about 8, a lesson after he had turned it on. But most incredibly he somehow managed to successfully juggle two entirely separate families for decades. He told his wife Florence and four children in Folkestone that for work purposes he needed to stay at his London club on weekdays, while actually living with his mistress and their seven – seven! – illegitimate children. The subterfuge was eventually uncovered when David's brother Peter was on his way to Heathrow on a double-decker airport bus that stopped unexpectedly in Chiswick, whereupon Peter found himself gazing through a top-deck window at his father sitting up in bed in a strange house drinking tea. In fact his wife had known of her husband's double life for 60 years because during the First World War in France he was writing to both women but once put the letters in the wrong envelopes. She never mentioned it until, 86 years old, she was on her death bed. 'The marriage was important to her,' Tomlinson writes. The only time her husband was truly kind to her was whenever she was ill, so she made a point of being frequently ill and had, the son believes, two or even three unnecessary operations. Tomlinson says his childhood was plagued by the tensions and friction when his father was home. He and his three brothers were used to his arrival in Folkestone on Friday night and departure on Monday morning. 'If truth be told, we were quite pleased to see him go,' Tomlinson tells. The family was frightened of this unpredictable man. The boy enjoyed the pleasures of Folkestone. There were horses, gas lights, Punch and Judy, cinema and a rollerskating rink. He was 10 when he decided to be an actor after visiting the Pleasure Gardens Theatre. Do they really get paid for doing that, he wondered? He couldn't believe anything could be quite so wonderful. 'I decided then and there that it must be better than working and I have never altered my view.' The young man had a a stammer but was determined to overcome it and his father's opposition. He scoured London for theatrical jobs then joined the Grenadier Guards, which was a big mistake so he bought himself out after 16 months. A period as dogsbody in repertory helped equip him for his first professional, but non-speaking, appearance in 1936. The film director Anthony Asquith saw him in a play and signed him, rescuing him from dispiriting provincial tours with often drunken colleagues and cold and uncomfortable theatrical boarding-houses, and an unsuccessful spell selling vacuum cleaners. In the Second World War he was a Royal Air Force flying instructor, surviving a crash after blacking out in a Tiger Moth. There was the appalling tragedy of a first marriage in 1943 to a beautiful American widow who threw herself out of a 15th-floor window in New York, together with her two little boys. He was in England with the RAF. In 1953 Tomlinson married Audrey Freeman and theirs was a long and happy union, remaining together for nearly 50 years and raising the four boys. At first he had a stammer but overame it with tenacity and determination. Courage was the vital factor to succeed in acting, he says. Succeed he did and the memories of a full career are here to enjoy.
Yahoo
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
My Best Friend And I Stopped Talking For 5 Years. Then I Learned The Surprising Truth About Why She Cut Me Off.
'Do whatever you want, Kristi, I'm done here,' I angrily texted after being removed as my friend's maid of honor for speaking up over what I felt were unreasonable demands. But friends fight, and I was sure we'd laugh about this in a couple weeks over penis flutes. That was the last time Kristi and I would speak for five years. The wedding came and went, and I never even received an invite. I reached out, attempting to mend fences a couple months after our initial argument, but I received radio silence. The experience was so painful and disorienting that I flew home to my dad's house in Florida and cried for a week into my cat's fur. I'd heard about best-friend breakups, but I never envisioned it happening to us. I first met Kristi freshman year at Northwestern University after we'd each bombed a mainstage audition and decided to get drunk together. Where I was the introverted and observant type with an outward stoicism and a rotating collection of combat boots, she was an extroverted, social butterfly who enjoyed humming along to 'Mary Poppins' while stenciling turquoise owls onto her bedroom walls. We were kind of like if Daria and Quinn actually liked each other and went and swigged cheap-ass vodka together on a dorm-room floor. We were perfect complements. From that crummy audition on, Kristi was the sister I never had. We shared apartments in Chicago, took vacations to New York together to see Broadway shows, and even moved to California in unison after graduation. We may have even swapped hookup buddies a time or two (after granting each other explicit permission). But as we approached 30 and our lives began moving in different directions, we struggled to connect. I was transitioning into a writing career in Los Angeles while she was settling down in Sacramento with her fiancé. I'd run script ideas by her, but she didn't care to hear them, claiming it impinged on our having fun. When I questioned her sudden disinterest in my life, she uncharacteristically responded by judging my day jobs and Craigslist roommates, as though my struggles were immature and not worthy of her time. Similarly, she'd call me to discuss wedding preparations that I found insignificant, deeming her quandary over the perfect shade of bridesmaids' gowns a frivolous problem to heap upon an artist in survival mode. We'd always been different people, but our values had never diverged to this extent. We became distant and entirely self-absorbed. As resentment mounted, all it took was one, heated text exchange for the lid to completely blow. Just like that ... an entire era was sunk. Once that reality set in, I ached everywhere. Over those five years that weren't, I saw on Instagram that she had a son; she saw I'd published in new magazines. Here and there, we'd exchange happy birthday messages or congratulatory comments on social media. Where there was once a deep closeness, there was now just a gaping void. I'd resigned myself to the sad fact that our friendship was firmly in the past. The author (right) and Kristi clubbing in Chicago in 2008. Related: 19 Wholesome Posts I Found On The Internet This Week That Are So Urgently Needed Right Now So when she texted me out of the blue — 'would love to catch up soon' — I wasn't sure how to feel. The message seemed awfully casual in the context of everything that happened. What about those times I reached out to her and got ignored? Frozen, I stared at my phone. On the one hand, I really missed her. On the other, I was incredibly hurt that I'd been cut out so unceremoniously. And, on still another, I felt guilty over my part in it, too. I wanted to talk to her, but I wasn't sure I could forgive. I wasn't sure she could either. And why now? I wasn't sure of much of anything other than there was nothing to lose by having a conversation, and I needed not take issue with the envelope the offer came in. Underneath it all, I really was ecstatic she'd reached out. The call came early on a Thursday evening while I typed on my laptop. I hesitantly answered after the most amount of rings. For a few minutes, there were some awkward first-date pleasantries. Then I called out the elephant in the room: I should have shown up for her more at that particular time in our lives, but I didn't feel my punishment fit the crime. I could tell she was uncomfortable, but she owned her part, too, stating she'd lost herself during wedding planning and felt she'd been selfish. She now missed old friends because they reminded her of who she was. Then she stammered as she apologized for not knowing how to apologize better. It was crystallizing for me in that moment how much she disliked confrontation and how different our conflict styles were. Was this ... the start of a best-friend reconciliation? Her apology was pretty lackluster, was I prepared to let her off that easily? I wasn't sure. All I knew was that, after hanging up, my shoulders dropped, and my body felt lighter. It's crazy the way pain lives inside you when it isn't given anywhere else to go. I was happy to be back in touch, but I was honestly skeptical how close we would ever be again. We'd missed huge milestones. Time had elapsed. Trust had been shattered. So when she proposed visiting each other, I wasn't ready. In fact, I let the invitation sit for a few months until a bout of writers' block-induced anxiety nearly drove me to the brink and, really needing to get away, I asked if she'd like to meet me in the middle of California at Hearst Castle. She replied she'd love a night away from mom duty. But even after we'd chosen a date, I almost canceled. My bedroom window was leaking from a particularly heavy rainstorm, and it would have been so easy to just ... not go. This reconciliation all seemed so out of nowhere. Was this at all about me ,or did she just need an exit ramp from the slog of life? I took a breath and acknowledged it was likely both. These days, I recognized answers weren't always all one thing or the other. Life is fuckin' hard. Sometimes you just want the people around who know and love you. Related: "It's Sad And Sexist But True": 17 Tips Women Learned From Other Women For Keeping Themselves Safe In The World We Live In The author (left) and Kristi wine tasting in Sacramento in 2014. Throughout the entire three-hour drive to San Simeon, I wondered if I should prepare topics of conversation in case there were awkward lulls, but I ultimately decided against it. Let's just let whatever is there, be there, I thought. This didn't deter me, however, from arriving a few minutes early to redo my hair and put on lipstick. She texted a few minutes out that she, too, still needed to put on mascara. We'd mopped beer-soaked streamers off the floor of our rickety college apartment in unlaundered T-shirts at 7 a.m., but there's an anxiety that comes with a reunion which screams, If nothing else, they can't think I totally let myself go. As I walked across the pavement toward the visitor center, I spotted Kristi's blonde ponytail and denim jacket near some shrubbery. She looked up from her phone, and she saw me too. The same jubilant girl I'd met at 18 years old power walked over to me with a huge smile and warm hug as though no time had passed. She looked exactly the same. It felt amazing to see her. Even though our reunion may have felt a little too breezy, a little too fast, it was clear she was choosing to put the past in the past. Nonconfrontational — that was her way. I could see she needed to do that. And, as her friend, I realized I needed to let her do that. This was imperfect, no way around that. But I wanted her in my life more than I wanted to be mad at her. I reminded myself our friendship flourished when we accepted each other as we were. There was nothing false or inauthentic about that. We were here. We were trying. Once I gave over, the rest of the trip was so unawkward, it was almost awkward. As we boarded the bus to take us up the hill to the castle, Kristi exuberantly showed me a photo of her 3-year-old son trying to ride her pit bull, Bianca, and another of her family's second house in Tahoe. I entertained Kristi with anecdotes of showbiz, burlesque classes I'd taken, and the museum exhibit that is Hinge. Married, she listened wide-eyed to my dating stories, as though she'd stumbled upon an exciting, secret portal. She seemed genuinely fascinated by the breadth of my experiences and covetous of my 'me' time — quite a different reception than I'd received when last we left off. Similarly, I was surprised to find myself admiring the warmth and fullness of her life. Five years ago, I may have mischaracterized her burgeoning lifestyle as prescriptive and confining — but confining is only ever in the eye of the beholder. No one knows that better than the woman who has a self-destructive relationship with her writing career. Kristi had the foresight to acquire some of the things I never knew I wanted until I realized I didn't have them. I could see that now. It's been a year since Kristi and I got back in touch and six months since Hearst Castle. We continue to catch up every few weeks by phone, exchange existential and musical theater-themed Instagram reels that remind us of each other, and text quick tips on sex, books and asshole colleagues. We've even committed to planning another trip as soon as our lives slow down a bit. Perhaps Sonoma. Or maybe Vegas. Probably the biggest realization I've made over the past year is how little our breakup actually had to do with our lives diverging — and how much it had to do with the fact we'd stopped truly seeing each other. Five years ago, Kristi and I were each at crossroads in life, terrified of the choices we were making, insecure in who we were, and desperate to receive reassurance from the one person who mattered most … the one person without the capacity to provide it at that time. We hadn't realized how much the other needed us, and so we grew resentful and judgmental. It was partly out of hurt, but mostly as a way of validating our own choices. Now, years after the divergence happened and our identities felt more secure, we really appreciated each other's lives. The author (right) and Kristi touring Hearst Castle in San Simeon, California, in 2024. This experience even made me question the growing normalcy of friendship breakups. Occasionally, they can be warranted. But, so often, friends think they've irreversibly grown apart when they haven't become different people at all — they've just started showing up differently. That can be fixed if both parties are able to look within and willing to fight for the relationship. She's since admit she should have done a lot of things differently. So have I. Had Kristi and I written each other off forever, we would have missed out on so much. It took courage and vulnerability to risk opening ourselves back up — to trust each other not to shatter a sacred piece of our hearts (again). Sure, we both made mistakes, but none were so egregious that the relationship had to end. Life has a way of teaching us that things are both way more nuanced and nowhere near as complicated as we want to make them. I think we had to meet each other again — wiser and more grown — to say, 'I'm sorry,' 'I love you,' 'This is stupid, 'Let's do better,' and, most importantly, 'Let's move on.' I'm so grateful we did. This article originally appeared on HuffPost in March 2025. Also in Goodful: 19 Wholesome Posts I Saw This Week That Were So Cute, They Legitimately Put Me In A Happier Mood Also in Goodful: "It's Killing Them": Doctors, Nurses, And Medical Professionals Are Sharing The "Harmless" Habits That, Well, Aren't So Harmless
