The actor on an elevator encounter with Helen Mirren, an apology to a teacher and the lie he told to see Arsenal

Born in London, David Ajala, 39, trained at the Anna Scher Theatre School. He joined the RSC in 2008, went on to work at the National Theatre and this year appeared in the West End with Ewan McGregor in My Master Builder . He has had roles in the films Kidulthood, Adulthood and Brotherhood, The Dark Knight, Fast & Furious 6 and Jupiter Ascending. Currently he is in Nine Bodies in a Mexican Morgue on BBC One and The Woman in Cabin 10 on Netflix. He lives in Essex with his wife and two children.

When were you happiest?
When I was naive to the complexities of life.

Continue reading...

When she died, the writer left behind a cache of notebooks and manuscripts. Her biographer reveals what they tell us about her unlikely rise to literary stardom

When To Kill a Mockingbird was published in the summer of 1960, it seemed to have sprung from nowhere, like an Alabamian Athena: a perfectly formed novel from an unknown southern writer without any evident precedent or antecedent. The book somehow managed to be both urgently of its time and instantly timeless, addressing the era’s most turbulent issues, from the civil rights movement to the sexual revolution, while also speaking in the register of the eternal, from the moral awakening of children and the abiding love of families to the frictions between the self and society.

But no writer is without influences and aspirations: Harper Lee had, of course, come from somewhere and worked tremendously hard to become someone. It was only because she did not like talking about herself that her origins seemed so mysterious, and inevitably, the better To Kill a Mockingbird did – becoming a bestseller and then winning a Pulitzer prize, selling 1m copies and then 10m and then 40m – the more theories and rumours rushed in to fill her silence. In the years after the book came out, the public image of Lee swung between two of her beloved characters: she was either the living incarnation of her feisty, tomboyish heroine Jean Louise “Scout” Finch or, in her seeming reclusiveness, a version of that shy shadow figure, Arthur “Boo” Radley.

Continue reading...

£2,000-a-ticket event, where 800 guests will hobnob among world’s treasures, could herald new reality in desperate arts funding climate

There will be champagne, of course, and dancing, fine Indian food served alongside the Parthenon marbles and cocktails mixed in front of the Renaissance treasures of the Waddesdon bequest . And everywhere – from the lights illuminating the Greek revival architecture, to the carpet on which guests arrive, to the glamorous outfits they are requested to wear – a very particular shade of pink.

When the British Museum throws open its doors on Saturday evening for its first “pink ball”, it will not only be hosting an enormous and lavish party, but also inaugurating what its director, Nicholas Cullinan, has called a “flagship national event” that he hopes will become as important to his institution’s finances as it will to the London elite’s social calendar.

Continue reading...

Fans who moan when a show is axed after its first season should be careful what they wish for. If only my TV obsession had ended a long time ago

It’s an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your favourite TV show has just begun streaming and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. Season one ended sooo perfectly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?) In the months since the finale, you were perusing Reddit threads with other hardcores to find some Easter egg clues illuminating what would happen next.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. Cut to the second episode, and your favourite cast member has done something that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. By episode five, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

Priya Elan writes about the arts, music and fashion

Continue reading...

AmfAR, set up by Elizabeth Taylor, is known for hosting lavish parties and raising huge sums for HIV and Aids research

It’s recognised for its pomp, the celebrity supporters and the fabulously glamorous locations, but for the man behind the amfAR gala, an A-list charity roadshow that rolls into London for the first time this weekend, the event is deeply personal.

AmfAR – the American Foundation for Aids Research – is a nonprofit group that emerged in the 1980s to support research into HIV and Aids.

Continue reading...

After several people close to me died I became obsessed with fitness and gripped by panic attacks. But then a ska cover taught me life doesn’t have to be serious all the time

My anxious disposition means I think about death a lot. But a cluster of people I loved dying in 2023, and most of them unexpectedly and within a few months of each other, was enough to shake my nervous system up pretty significantly. Five funerals is too many. The first was my nan: she was the family matriarch. The oldest person in the family, so there was a level of acceptance among the sadness. But soon after it was her son, and then her granddaughter (my cousin). The latter two were shocks, completely upending my nervous system, one compounding the other. From there, two more followed. Death was all around. It wasn’t just a part of life by that point – it was something to expect soon and often.

At first I seemed fine. Despite concerned friends and partners asking if I was hiding anything, I didn’t think I was. But soon I retreated from fun, becoming very fixated on things like my resting heart rate and body fat percentage. I skipped social events for high-intensity interval training sessions followed by the sauna followed by meditation – not a bad thing, but not a balance, either. I cut out caffeine, including dark chocolate. When I didn’t stick to my new routine, I would have a panic attack, which I’d assume was a heart attack, which would lead to more frequent episodes of panic.

Continue reading...

The millennial crowd-pleasers return with a second helping of their sizzling romcom … and it’s just as much of a pleasure. We already know exactly which spin-off we want too!

For a while, it seemed as if the romcom as an art form died and had been replaced by Marvel sequels and issue-led dramedies. Rachel and Ross were a distant memory (and not just because it was 20 years ago). Luckily, the genre – and our collective broken hearts – has been given CPR by a flurry of new releases. Few have been more affecting than Nobody Wants This (Netflix, from Thursday 23 October), the stomach-flipping story of rabbi Noah and relationship podcaster Joanne.

When the first series appeared on Netflix last year, the success was somewhat unexpected. With the streaming giant focused on content viewers could watch after a lobotomy, few expected a mega hit that would create a genuine emotional connection. Then we met Noah (millennial nostalgia-fix Adam Brody) and Joanne (Kristen Bell) and the combination of acting, lovable characterisation and tight writing saw critical acclaim, Emmy nominations and – most importantly – old-fashioned longing. The internet had a new boyfriend. Fleabag’s Hot Priest was old news. Hot Rabbi was here to save us. And he was a really good listener who could also cook pasta.

Inspired by creator Erin Foster’s experience of converting to Judaism for her husband, Nobody Wants This boils faith, family and modern dating into 26 tightly packed minutes. On top of ex-girlfriends and formidable mother-in-laws, our two lovers have a central obstacle to overcome: if he wants to be head rabbi, Noah needs to marry a Jewish woman.

When we last saw the couple, they were at a crossroads: Noah had been offered his dream job and Joanne had done the selfless act of leaving him so he could take it. The final scene of the two reuniting and kissing in the street perfectly set up a second season and with it pressing questions. Will Joanne convert? Will Noah quit his vocation? Will Noah’s mum murder Joanne when she finds out?

Continue reading...

More murder and suspicion in Anthony Horowitz’s gripping series. Plus: moreish French drama The Intruder concludes. Here’s what to watch this evening

9.20pm, BBC One

Continue reading...

Sally Carson’s Crooked Cross was written and set during the rise of nazism. It shows both how extremism takes hold, and the moral certainty needed to resist it

A few days ago I asked an American acquaintance – as one does these days – where he sees “it”, by which I meant the political situation, heading. He took a breath. “In my opinion, the US is in a very similar position to Germany in 1933-4,” he said. “And we have to ask, could 1936, 1937, 1938 have been avoided? That’s the point we are at. You can try to say fascism couldn’t happen in the US. But I think the jury’s out.”

His words seemed especially resonant to me because I had just finished reading a remarkable novel precisely to do with Germany in 1933-4, a book written in the former year and published in the latter. Forgotten for decades, Sally Carson’s Bavaria-set Crooked Cross was republished in April by Persephone Books, which specialises in reviving neglected works. Since then, it has been a surprise hit, a word-of-mouth jaw-dropper, passed from hand to hand.

Continue reading...