Latest news with #WillowbrookStateSchool
Otago Daily Times
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Otago Daily Times
New window on Lennon and Ono's world
John Lennon and Yoko Ono in a scene from the documentary. A new documentary about John Lennon and Yoko Ono transports you back to the '70s, Seren Stevens writes. Confronting truths and inspiring compassion share the stage in the riveting documentary One to One: John & Yoko. Directed by academy award winner Kevin Macdonald (One Day in September, The Last King of Scotland), the film follows John Lennon and Yoko Ono after their move to New York, following the break-up of the Beatles. The film is skilfully comprised of previously unheard and unseen phone calls and home films, alongside TV clips and interviews with Lennon and Ono — a collection of material that, on paper, doesn't sound particularly captivating. However, Macdonald's artful storytelling and slick social commentary provides an experience that leaves you in awe. The film begins with restored 16mm film footage of John and Yoko's 1972 full-length concert, ''One to One'', which was dedicated to the children at Willowbrook State School, an underfunded institution for people with intellectual disabilities. The restored footage is vibrant and electric, transporting you back half a century. Flickering images of a crowd full of denim jackets, young men with shoulder-length hair and enthusiastically thrown peace signs set the scene. In the background, Lennon's Power to the People is softly chanted. Then, his live version of New York City begins blasting, picking the audience up in a whirlwind of the '70s. One to One: John & Yoko cleverly uses the convention of TV channels to create an immersive experience of life in the 1970s; of the fashion, the humour, the language and the political scene. The viewer is placed in Lennon and Ono's tiny one-bedroom apartment in New York, where a retro colour TV sits at the end of a messy bed. The channels switch between late-night talk shows, football matches and a news broadcast of the Attica Prison revolt. President Nixon appears several times, giving warm and reassuring speeches, while people in the background call for him to stop bombing Vietnam. Through the seemingly random TV channels, the director lays out the political state of the world. The intense polarisation of the political scene is highlighted in a way that feels confronting and yet familiar — eerily so. In an interview recording, Lennon jokingly describes the TV in their bedroom with a quote that explains the entire film. ''It's a window on the world. Whatever it is, that's our image of ourselves that we're portraying.'' As can be expected, Lennon's live music performances from the ''One to One'' concert are interspersed throughout the film. The songs have been remastered by Sean Ono Lennon, who also produced the film, to lift the music to a previously unheard reimagining. The beautiful and provoking aspect of the film is the way it effortlessly presents the full context of the time in which Lennon and Ono wrote their music. It builds on the sense that their songs were made with the intention of using the real, unfiltered world as their music video — as this film does. Lennon was simply narrating what was already being seen. By successfully surrounding the audience in the rose-coloured hypocrisy of the '70s, the film offers the deeper meaning of Lennon's music. Despite being a story about Lennon and Ono's escape from the Beatles break-up, the film is truly centred around the injustices of the era. True to Lennon and Ono's purpose, their fame is only a consequence, while their advocacy and activism is the takeaway from the film. Racial injustice, male chauvinism, the atrocities of the Vietnam War and the neglect and abuse of the intellectually disabled are all addressed meaningfully throughout the film. The intense and compassionate dialogue heard from Lennon, Ono and other key characters is heard in activism today, bringing the story home. Ono's honest account of how she was treated by the media following the break-up of the Beatles is also a focus; and it's a gut-wrenching glance at the cruelty the media can incite. One to One: John & Yoko is an eye-opening film that will change the way you hear Lennon's music and see the world today. The level of clarity, art and compassion Macdonald presents is astounding, as is the way he conjures the atmosphere of the '70s into the film. Lennon and Ono's love story is as intriguing as ever, and the film shines a new light on their love for each other, for music and for the world. The film One to One: John & Yoko screens as part of the NZ International Film Festival. The Regent, Monday, August 18 at 11am and Saturday, August 23 at 12.15pm.
Yahoo
22-04-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Washington must close this facility to protect our rights
After I was born, my father and mother had to make a difficult decision about where I would grow up. I was born in 1979 with a rare form of cerebral palsy that affected my nervous system, left me unable to walk and affected my speech. My parents could either put me in one of Washington State's developmental disability institutions, known as Residential Habilitation Centers (RHCs), or they could take me home and raise me as a valuable member of my family and community. They chose the latter. I will be forever grateful for their choice. Due to their support, I graduated from a state university, have a job and get to experience all that community living has to offer. Although I was spared the alternative of growing within the walls of a state institution, over 450 individuals are currently housed within four state-funded RHCs. After years of planning for the future and decades of demands for closure from people with intellectual and developmental disabilities (IDD), it is time to move into the future and provide these individuals with the choice of community living. The legislature should stand with disability rights advocates and consolidate our state institutions by closing Rainier School RHC so that we may better invest in meaningful alternatives. Many families have struggled with decisions like the one my parents made. For many years, RHCs felt like the only viable option to provide adequate care because of the lack of community-based services. In the 1970s, when institutional admission was at its highest, approximately 4,000 people lived in six Washington RHCs. Over the last 50 years, that number has fallen to 454 individuals and four institutions. For those of us at risk of being institutionalized, the closure of these facilities represents Washington's ongoing commitment to moving away from segregated living and our willingness to invest in care that centers the humanity of people with disabilities. The movement to end institutionalization of people with disabilities gained notoriety after the 1972 exposé of Willowbrook State School in New York by Geraldo Rivera, who found that youth there were riddled with disease and subjected to widespread abuse and neglect. Closer to home, Disability Rights Washington reports in 2017, 2018, 2019 and 2021 have revealed recurring examples of RHCs being out of state and federal compliance, leading to numerous residents suffering from neglect, abuse and exploitation. These reports show repeated incidents of residents being victimized by RHC staff through sexual assaults, choking and malnourishment. Although there are undoubtedly people who have had positive experiences with these institutions, the ongoing reports of abuse are more than enough to warrant our state's transition away from RHCs. Over the last 20 years, community advocates have created more residential options for people with higher support needs. Many individuals like myself choose to receive in-home care support to help with personal tasks in the bathroom, bedroom and kitchen. Others may receive services from a Supported Living agency or live in Adult Family Homes, state-operated living alternatives (SOLAs), or companion homes. We have seen RHC populations plummet accordingly. Rainier School dropped from 318 residents in 2018 to just 84 today. As a result, costs per person have significantly increased. Care for those living in RHCs costs an average of $1,676 per person per day, while those in supported community living cost $625 per person per day. This congregate model of care is simply unsustainable and cannot meet the needs of our state budget or our community. People with IDD overwhelmingly choose community care because of the independence, autonomy and freedom. In the community, we can make friends, stay in better contact with loved ones, work, go to church, garden and more. Living in the community often leads to an improved quality of life. People can also access community doctors, dentists and licensed therapists. In short, people choose community because, if you had the choice, why wouldn't you? I am a proud member of Self Advocates in Leadership (SAIL), People First of Washington, and Allies in Advocacy, three organizations with over 1,200 members and run by those with IDD. I stand with advocates with disabilities and encourage our state legislators to close Rainier School. We ask to be believed. We ask to be prioritized. We want Washington State to follow the example of 18 other states and give people the choice to move into the community. It's where we belong. Shawn Latham is the public policy coordinator for Self Advocates in Leadership (SAIL), a coalition of over 200 people with developmental disabilities interested in shaping public policy in Washington State. He is also the executive director at Allies in Advocacy and a member of People First of Washington. He has been a vocal advocate for people with disabilities for over twenty years.
Yahoo
18-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
The Beatles are everywhere, again. How a new movie shows a side of John Lennon and Yoko Ono that few have seen before.
With four movies about the Beatles on the distant horizon, Beatlemania is back. Director Kevin Macdonald was working on his documentary One to One: John & Yoko long before Sony's four-part Beatles biopics were announced — and long before they'll ever be seen, as they're not due for release until 2028 — but he's happy to think deeply about how their story could be brought to the big screen regardless. One to One: John & Yoko weaves together never-before-seen footage of the musical couple, from their concert performance at Madison Square Garden and their lives at home in New York's Greenwich Village. It also includes moments in American politics that transpired at the same time, like opposition to the United States' involvement in the Vietnam War. The "One to One" benefit concerts were the only full concert performances Lennon did after he left the Beatles in 1970. The one at the center of this documentary was held in August 1972 on behalf of children with intellectual disabilities at the Willowbrook State School in Staten Island, N.Y. John and Yoko were inspired to take action after watching a TV movie in 1972 called Willowbrook: The Last Great Disgrace that shed light on abuse that took place at the facility. One to One: John & Yoko screened at Sundance Film Festival in January, where Macdonald spoke with Yahoo Entertainment about his unconventional documentary, the journey to bringing it to life and what a Beatles movie would have to include to be successful. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. Did you set out to make something that felt different from other Beatles documentaries? Straight up, yes. When the producer, Peter Worsley, who had spent many years trying to get the rights to this concert from the family, approached me about doing it, we didn't know each other, and I was torn two ways. When I was 13, John Lennon died, and that precipitated me becoming a total mad Lennon fan in that very suggestive era of your early teens. Part of me was like, 'Yes, this a childhood dream!' But another part of me was like, 'There's been so many Beatles-related films and books, I don't want to just be adding to them.' So I thought I needed to do something different that's artistically challenging and interesting to me, and also gives the audience a different kind of experience. Make it into something where it's not about the facts and the rational, it's about hanging out with them, getting to know them in a more intimate way of being immersed in the music and immersed in the times. The most immersive filmmaking experience you can have is in IMAX. I pitched it to Sean Lennon, who has control of the family estate, and he said, 'My mom would love that idea, let's do it.' Then he left me alone. I've never had any interference there or whatever. They handed over all these boxes of incredible phone calls and black-and-white home movie footage and stuff. The subject of the film is this great concert — although the concert was filmed, it was recorded very badly. But because of the advances in sound technology, they've figured out ways to remove background noise. Then you can start to remix and rebalance it, and that's what they've done. Sean did that, and he did a great job of it. So Sean was the connection you needed — Absolutely. Sean and the people who work for the estate. They basically handed over a drive, which had a lot of the footage on it, and then all the original audio of the concert. Then about four or five months into editing, I get this phone call from a guy called Simon Hilton who works for the family. He's an executive producer on the film. He said, 'Oh, we just found this box of audio tape from exactly your time period. We're not sure what's on it.' It was like, 25 hours of phone conversations. They're incredible. You feel like you're eavesdropping on them as normal people chatting. I remember just sitting and listening to them for days. I really feel like I'm with them. I really feel like I know them! That was another bit of luck. For any documentaries, you rely on luck. How did you get through that immense volume of video and recordings? I have a great editor who is also the co-director of the film, Sam Rice-Edwards. He's much harder working than I am. He did a lot of trawling through stuff to find the good bits. Then I would come in and listen to the good bits. Then we would work. There's a lot of trial and error with trying to figure out how much narrative we need. We need a little bit so the audience is sort of going on a journey, so it's not totally random. But you want the audience always on the edge of feeling like this could go anywhere. It is totally random! But hopefully not too much. One of the things we particularly aimed to do there was to — when you realize why the concert happened, that it was because of the kids [at Willowbrook] — that's the kind of 'oh shit!' moment that's the turning point in the film. It all comes toward the end. It's the context you're getting for what was going on in the world and what was going on in their lives. Then the footage of the clips. It's not until toward the end when you realize — oh my gosh, these kids. Something I took away from this was — wow, John and Yoko were these big dreamers who gave great speeches, then actually followed through on what they were saying. It's so different from most youth today. They saw a documentary [] and said, 'Let's do something for these kids.' Something else I think about a lot is how these days, people struggle to see celebrities as humans and to understand that they have lives and wants and needs and boring day-to-day lives like we do. This film shows so much of their mundane, daily lives as they were also doing big, world-changing things. One of the things I was really keen to do was find a way to humanize Yoko for people. A lot of Beatles fans are still so negative about her. It's incredible. I think she's a great artist — not just visually, with her artwork — but as a musician. People think, 'Oh, she can't sing. She screams!' And, well, that's the point! You can hear in the film that she can sing beautifully. But she's like a punk. She's expressing herself and doing this primal scream. That's confronting, but deliberately. I think I wanted people to understand that. We almost did this switcheroo, so when you get to the end of the film, it almost becomes Yoko's perspective. She's at a feminist conference and John is just tagging along. He's the only man in the room. They're voting to get rid of him to sort of give her her due, to give her that moment of sympathy. And then she sings that beautiful song, age 39, feeling pretty suicidal — and you understand, suddenly from her, that she's a human being who's been broken by the way people have treated her. She's hurting because she's lost her child who has been kidnapped. And you know, people have known that about her daughter Kyoko forever. It's not a secret. But nobody ever talked about it. Maybe because in some way there was an interest in her context. But as soon as you look at what's going on in their lives, and you see it through the perspective of missing their child, it suddenly makes everything very different. It's about them missing their daughter and the pain of that. That's why they're so moved by the kids on TV, because they're missing their child. And at the end, things are made right by the fact they have Sean. It's about the children in your life and the pain if you don't have them and the loss and joy that they bring. How they love their daughter who is missing precipitates this great concert. There's a lot of talk about upcoming movies about the Beatles. Is there anything that you think has to be included in those movies in order for them to be successful? I don't know what it is, exactly, that they are doing. I don't think they do either. I know they're doing four films, each one from the perspective of a different Beatle. If I was doing that, I would do [this]: One of the Beatles [is the subject] up to the point of them becoming the Beatles in 1961 or 1962, then one does the Beatles era. And then one does the '70s — that would be John. Then one does after that. So you do the whole bit through their eyes. I'm not sure what they're doing, but that's what I would do. You could start with the early part of it as Ringo's biopic up until 1962 and he joined the band. Then maybe you have Paul for the Beatles period. Then you have John. Then you have — I don't know. Anyway, whatever. I'm not sure how they're going to do it, but I hope it's going to be social. It's going to be as much about the times as it is about them as individuals. I feel like we do know them pretty well at this stage, particularly during the Beatles period. So I hope they make it as much about what's going on around them. I really liked A Complete Unknown. … I'm a big [Bob] Dylan fan, and I thought, 'Why do we need a biopic of Dylan?' But I watched it, and I thought, 'This is really smart because they made it about the times!' They made it about — or what I took from it was — to be an artist, you've also got to be a f***ing bastard. That goes with the territory. You've got to move on. You've got to trample people. You've got people who want to keep you there. You've just got to ignore those siren calls and keep it moving. I thought, 'That really is worth making a film about.' is now playing exclusively in IMAX. It expands to more theaters April 18.
Yahoo
14-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
The Beatles are everywhere, again. How a new movie shows a side of John Lennon and Yoko Ono that few have seen before.
With four movies about the Beatles on the distant horizon, Beatlemania is back. Director Kevin Macdonald was working on his documentary One to One: John & Yoko long before Sony's four-part Beatles biopics were announced — and long before they'll ever be seen, as they're not due for release until 2028 — but he's happy to think deeply about how their story could be brought to the big screen regardless. One to One: John & Yoko weaves together never-before-seen footage of the musical couple, from their concert performance at Madison Square Garden and their lives at home in New York's Greenwich Village. It also includes moments in American politics that transpired at the same time, like opposition to the United States' involvement in the Vietnam War. The "One to One" benefit concerts were the only full concert performances Lennon did after he left the Beatles in 1970. The one at the center of this documentary was held in August 1972 on behalf of children with intellectual disabilities at the Willowbrook State School in Staten Island, N.Y. John and Yoko were inspired to take action after watching a TV movie in 1972 called Willowbrook: The Last Great Disgrace that shed light on abuse that took place at the facility. One to One: John & Yoko screened at Sundance Film Festival in January, where Macdonald spoke with Yahoo Entertainment about his unconventional documentary, the journey to bringing it to life and what a Beatles movie would have to include to be successful. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. Did you set out to make something that felt different from other Beatles documentaries? Straight up, yes. When the producer, Peter Worsley, who had spent many years trying to get the rights to this concert from the family, approached me about doing it, we didn't know each other, and I was torn two ways. When I was 13, John Lennon died, and that precipitated me becoming a total mad Lennon fan in that very suggestive era of your early teens. Part of me was like, 'Yes, this a childhood dream!' But another part of me was like, 'There's been so many Beatles-related films and books, I don't want to just be adding to them.' So I thought I needed to do something different that's artistically challenging and interesting to me, and also gives the audience a different kind of experience. Make it into something where it's not about the facts and the rational, it's about hanging out with them, getting to know them in a more intimate way of being immersed in the music and immersed in the times. The most immersive filmmaking experience you can have is in IMAX. I pitched it to Sean Lennon, who has control of the family estate, and he said, 'My mom would love that idea, let's do it.' Then he left me alone. I've never had any interference there or whatever. They handed over all these boxes of incredible phone calls and black-and-white home movie footage and stuff. The subject of the film is this great concert — although the concert was filmed, it was recorded very badly. But because of the advances in sound technology, they've figured out ways to remove background noise. Then you can start to remix and rebalance it, and that's what they've done. Sean did that, and he did a great job of it. So Sean was the connection you needed — Absolutely. Sean and the people who work for the estate. They basically handed over a drive, which had a lot of the footage on it, and then all the original audio of the concert. Then about four or five months into editing, I get this phone call from a guy called Simon Hilton who works for the family. He's an executive producer on the film. He said, 'Oh, we just found this box of audio tape from exactly your time period. We're not sure what's on it.' It was like, 25 hours of phone conversations. They're incredible. You feel like you're eavesdropping on them as normal people chatting. I remember just sitting and listening to them for days. I really feel like I'm with them. I really feel like I know them! That was another bit of luck. For any documentaries, you rely on luck. How did you get through that immense volume of video and recordings? I have a great editor who is also the co-director of the film, Sam Rice-Edwards. He's much harder working than I am. He did a lot of trawling through stuff to find the good bits. Then I would come in and listen to the good bits. Then we would work. There's a lot of trial and error with trying to figure out how much narrative we need. We need a little bit so the audience is sort of going on a journey, so it's not totally random. But you want the audience always on the edge of feeling like this could go anywhere. It is totally random! But hopefully not too much. One of the things we particularly aimed to do there was to — when you realize why the concert happened, that it was because of the kids [at Willowbrook] — that's the kind of 'oh shit!' moment that's the turning point in the film. It all comes toward the end. It's the context you're getting for what was going on in the world and what was going on in their lives. Then the footage of the clips. It's not until toward the end when you realize — oh my gosh, these kids. Something I took away from this was — wow, John and Yoko were these big dreamers who gave great speeches, then actually followed through on what they were saying. It's so different from most youth today. They saw a documentary [] and said, 'Let's do something for these kids.' Something else I think about a lot is how these days, people struggle to see celebrities as humans and to understand that they have lives and wants and needs and boring day-to-day lives like we do. This film shows so much of their mundane, daily lives as they were also doing big, world-changing things. One of the things I was really keen to do was find a way to humanize Yoko for people. A lot of Beatles fans are still so negative about her. It's incredible. I think she's a great artist — not just visually, with her artwork — but as a musician. People think, 'Oh, she can't sing. She screams!' And, well, that's the point! You can hear in the film that she can sing beautifully. But she's like a punk. She's expressing herself and doing this primal scream. That's confronting, but deliberately. I think I wanted people to understand that. We almost did this switcheroo, so when you get to the end of the film, it almost becomes Yoko's perspective. She's at a feminist conference and John is just tagging along. He's the only man in the room. They're voting to get rid of him to sort of give her her due, to give her that moment of sympathy. And then she sings that beautiful song, age 39, feeling pretty suicidal — and you understand, suddenly from her, that she's a human being who's been broken by the way people have treated her. She's hurting because she's lost her child who has been kidnapped. And you know, people have known that about her daughter Kyoko forever. It's not a secret. But nobody ever talked about it. Maybe because in some way there was an interest in her context. But as soon as you look at what's going on in their lives, and you see it through the perspective of missing their child, it suddenly makes everything very different. It's about them missing their daughter and the pain of that. That's why they're so moved by the kids on TV, because they're missing their child. And at the end, things are made right by the fact they have Sean. It's about the children in your life and the pain if you don't have them and the loss and joy that they bring. How they love their daughter who is missing precipitates this great concert. There's a lot of talk about upcoming movies about the Beatles. Is there anything that you think has to be included in those movies in order for them to be successful? I don't know what it is, exactly, that they are doing. I don't think they do either. I know they're doing four films, each one from the perspective of a different Beatle. If I was doing that, I would do [this]: One of the Beatles [is the subject] up to the point of them becoming the Beatles in 1961 or 1962, then one does the Beatles era. And then one does the '70s — that would be John. Then one does after that. So you do the whole bit through their eyes. I'm not sure what they're doing, but that's what I would do. You could start with the early part of it as Ringo's biopic up until 1962 and he joined the band. Then maybe you have Paul for the Beatles period. Then you have John. Then you have — I don't know. Anyway, whatever. I'm not sure how they're going to do it, but I hope it's going to be social. It's going to be as much about the times as it is about them as individuals. I feel like we do know them pretty well at this stage, particularly during the Beatles period. So I hope they make it as much about what's going on around them. I really liked A Complete Unknown. … I'm a big [Bob] Dylan fan, and I thought, 'Why do we need a biopic of Dylan?' But I watched it, and I thought, 'This is really smart because they made it about the times!' They made it about — or what I took from it was — to be an artist, you've also got to be a f***ing bastard. That goes with the territory. You've got to move on. You've got to trample people. You've got people who want to keep you there. You've just got to ignore those siren calls and keep it moving. I thought, 'That really is worth making a film about.' is now playing in theaters (including IMAX).
The Guardian
10-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
One to One: John and Yoko review – Kevin Macdonald's immersive collage is a pop culture fever dream
Film-maker Kevin Macdonald has created a fever dream of pop culture: a TV-clip collage of John Lennon and Yoko Ono's time in New York in the early 70s, as they led the countercultural protest. It's a film that mixes small screen zeitgeist fragments and madeleine moments, a memory quilt of a certain time and place, juxtaposing Jerry Rubin and Allen Ginsberg with Richard Nixon and George Wallace, John and Yoko in concert with ads for Tupperware – all inspired by the fact that John and Yoko did an awful lot of TV watching in their small New York apartment of that time, with John in particular thrilled by the American novelty of 24/7 television. It was also on TV that John and Yoko saw a documentary about the scandalous abuse of learning-disabled children at the infamous Willowbrook State School in New York and they organised the One to One concert at Madison Square Garden in 1972 to raise money for the children there. The film also gives us some amazing audio material: tape recordings of John Lennon and Yoko Ono's phone conversations with various journalists and managers, and a hilarious running-gag account of an assistant having to get hundreds of live flies for Ono's MoMA exhibition. For me, the most staggering clip is actually nothing to do with Lennon. At a 1972 White House gala to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Reader's Digest magazine, President Nixon himself introduces the wholesome musical entertainment, The Ray Conniff Singers, whose material he beamingly describes as square – 'Because I like it square!' But before this trad combo can go into their rendition of Ma, He's Making Eyes at Me, their Canadian singer Carole Feraci holds up a sign saying 'Stop the Killing' and directly addresses Nixon: 'President Nixon, stop bombing human beings, animals and vegetation. You go to church on Sundays and pray to Jesus Christ. If Jesus Christ were here tonight, you would not dare drop another bomb.' It stunningly echoes the Right Rev Mariann Edgar Budde's sermon to Donald Trump; Lennon himself never got anywhere near that kind of amazingly direct confrontation. In some ways, this is like David Leaf and John Scheinfeld's The US vs John Lennon, which covers some of the same ground, but Macdonald's film is more immersive, more dreamlike. Interestingly and indirectly, it shows a certain something nagging at Lennon: his repeated, failed attempts to get Bob Dylan to join with him in his campaigns. Dylan was evidently wary of getting into Lennon's orbit. It's a vivid time capsule. One to One: John and Yoko is in Imax cinemas on 9 and 10 April and UK cinemas from 11 April, and Australian cinemas from 3 July.
