Category: BBC News – Entertainment & Arts

Published47 minutes agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, Getty ImagesA judge has strongly criticised the BBC for failing to release a large number of emails relating to the scandal over Martin Bashir’s 1995 interview with Princess Diana on Panorama. The documents had been requested by a journalist, who was investigating what managers at the corporation knew and what had been done about the reporter. Mr Bashir officially stepped down from his job at the BBC in 2021.It emerged he had secured the interview through deception and faking documents.Princess Diana interview: Why was it controversial?Timeline: Martin Bashir’s actions from Diana interview to Dyson reportInquiry criticises BBC over ‘deceitful’ Diana interviewThe court ruling relates to a freedom of information request made by journalist Andy Webb.He wants to see the emails BBC managers sent each other about Mr Bashir over a two month period in 2020.The BBC disclosed a small number of messages to Mr Webb, but it has now emerged there were more than 3,000 emails.The corporate has said these contain “irrelevant” or “legally privileged” information.Judge Brian Kennedy KC ordered the BBC to release more emails – saying the corporation had been “inconsistent, erroneous and unreliable” in the way it dealt with the initial request.The judge added the BBC’s response had been a “cause for serious concern”.In a statement the BBC accepted mistakes had been made but says it is considering the judgement.The corporation says it has also apologised to Andy Webb and the tribunal.Writing in the Mail on Sunday, Mr Webb welcomed the judgement. Mr Bashir’s departure from the BBC came after questions were raised about how he secured the interview with Princess Diana. Watched by more than 20 million people, the interview was considered a huge scoop for the BBC at the time.But questions about the manner in which interview was secured started to be asked within a short time of its airing.In 2021, an independent inquiry by Lord Dyson, a former senior judge, found that Mr Bashir used deception to secure the interview and then lied to BBC managers.A graphic artist working for the BBC said he had been asked by Martin Bashir to produce fake bank statements.These appeared to show payments by a newspaper group to a former member of staff of Earl Spencer, Princess Diana’s brother.The Dyson report said this was to gain Earl Spencer’s confidence, so he would introduce Mr Bashir to Diana.When questioned by BBC bosses, Mr Bashir admitted having the statements mocked up, but repeatedly denied showing these documents to Earl Spencer.The report said Mr Bashir “lied and maintained the lie until he realised that it was no longer sustainable. This was most reprehensible behaviour which casts considerable doubt on his credibility generally”.Mr Bashir has previously said mocking up the documents “was a stupid thing to do” and he regretted it, but said they had had no bearing on Diana’s decision to be interviewed.More on this story’Dark cloud over BBC journalism’ says Lord GradePublished9 November 2020Designer ‘angry’ at treatment over Diana interviewPublished10 November 2020Key dates in the Martin Bashir interview controversyPublished21 May 2021

Published2 hours agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, Guy Levy/BBCBy Charlotte GallagherCulture correspondentShirley Ballas has said bullying left her on the verge of quitting dancing just before Strictly Come Dancing asked her to join its judging panel.Ballas said she was targeted by men “at the top” while teaching dancers. The 63 year old said couples she was training were receiving “threats”, warning their careers would be damaged if they worked with Ballas.She believes it was because of misogyny and the men involved “didn’t want a woman in any high places”. Ballas was speaking about her experiences on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs with Lauren Laverne. She told Laverne she did not believe the industry was much better today, adding: “I still think bullying goes on. There are a lot of great people in my industry, there are a lot of people who want to see people do extremely well. I think we have this handful of misogynistic people with egos that just will not deflate.””Even the other day, I was reading messages of a couple that had been to a competition overseas, of different professionals that had written these most horrendous messages to them. It still goes on today. I don’t know how people get away with it. It will carry on until it becomes name and shame, and I’m pretty much close to doing that, I’ll tell you,” Ballas said.Shirley Ballas lost marks for ‘revolting’ stretch marksNigel Harman pulls out of Strictly Come DancingThe Strictly judge also spoke about body shaming in dancing, telling the programme that when she returned from having a baby her teacher said he hated seeing her stretch marks and she “made people feel physically sick”. Image source, Amanda Benson/BBCOn the brink of giving up Shirley Ballas was approached by Strictly Come Dancing and asked to join the judging panel. “Fortunately something aligned and I got the job on Strictly. So thank you very much to all the bullies in my industry and you know who you are, and everybody in my industry knows who they are – thank you, because you gave me a platform and a job that I sincerely love and adore,” she said. Ballas also spoke about the death of her brother David who took his own life in December 2003 and explained why Christmas was such a difficult time for her and her mother.But she said she found Strictly’s Christmas spirit uplifting and working on the show enabled her to meet her boyfriend, the actor Danny Taylor, when they appeared in a pantomime together. At the beginning of their relationship he bought her and her mother a tiny Christmas tree which Shirley said was the start of them beginning to celebrate Christmas again. You can listen to Desert Island Discs on BBC Radio 4 at 11:15 GMT, or catch up on BBC Sounds

Published1 hour agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingBy Mark SavageBBC Music CorrespondentTate McRae is buzzing with nervous energy. It’s shortly after 11:00 in the UK on Thursday, 7 December. Which, by the magic of international time zones, means it’s just gone midnight in New Zealand. And that means her second album, Think Later, has just been released on the other side of the world.”Release days are terrifying,” says the 20-year-old. “The songs are so close to you, you’ve had them in your car for a year or so, and suddenly everyone’s listening. It stresses me out.”She turns her phone off to avoid reviews, but there’s no need to worry. Clash magazine calls the album “gripping” and “dramatic”; and the NME describes McRae as “an artist whose moment has arrived”.It wasn’t supposed to be this way. McRae started out as a dancer, winning a scholarship at the Berlin State Ballet and later studying with Canada’s Alberta Ballet Company.Then, in 2017, she posted a song she’d written in 20 minutes to her YouTube channel. It picked up 40 million views and landed the Calgary-born teenager a contract with RCA Records. She scored global hits with the scorched-earth break-up song You Broke Me First and 2022’s She’s All I Wanna Be. But her debut album, heavily indebted to Billie Eilish’s sombre ballads, didn’t quite connect. The follow-up is punchy and strident, and was mostly written with Adele and Beyoncé chart-whisperer Ryan Tedder. But McRae insists the new direction is all hers.”I walked into the first session with Ryan with two playlists of sounds I wanted him to use, songs I liked, lyrics I’d written and loads of different song titles.”That focus paid off. Lead single Greedy is a glistening shard of sultry pop that has topped Spotify’s global chart and soundtracked nearly four million videos on TikTok.Her current single, Exes, is making a similar impact, and the star’s world tour will culminate with a show at New York’s Madison Square Garden next year.”It’s everything I’ve dreamed of for a very long time,” she says.Settling into the BBC studios, McRae pulls a microphone close to her lips (“I learned on tour, you have to be close enough to eat the mic”) and chats candidly about songwriting, heartbreak, perfectionism and her transformation from “sad girl” to “badass”.Image source, Getty ImagesDid you always know Greedy was going to blow up the way it did? No, actually! There were about seven months where Ryan Tedder was trying to convince me it was the first single and I was like, “Absolutely not!”What? Why?!The song genuinely scared me – how fast it was and how much energy it had. I was like, “This is not my usual sound”. Then finally, I gave [Ryan] a million notes and transformed it from this squeaky-clean pop record into something super dark and grungy. When your record label sent me the file, it was marked “version five, softer intro”. But that intro comes in hard. What on earth was the original like?That’s the part where my brain can get a little annoying. I will hear the tiniest little sound and it’ll make me twinge because it’s too sharp. No-one else would notice it, but it would kill me if I didn’t switch it. That song has so many little nuances, like sirens in the background of the verses and musical accents that my dancer brain picks up on. That stuff really satisfies me. I saw an interview where you said Exes was written in 30 minutes. Is that true? Completely from scratch?Fully fresh. It was all instinct. I was just singing melodies and whatever first came out was what we used. So you had no lyrics pre-written or anything?Honestly. I thought I had nothing left to say on this album, then I started singing about how I can be self-destructive in a relationship and ruin things before they begin. It’s like your brain wants to say something, before you even know it. It’s hard to explain.This YouTube post cannot be displayed in your browser. Please enable Javascript or try a different browser.View original content on YouTubeThe BBC is not responsible for the content of external sites. YouTube content may contain adverts.Skip youtube video by TateMcRaeVEVOAllow YouTube content?This article contains content provided by Google YouTube. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. You may want to read Google’s cookie policy,

Published38 minutes agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingThis video can not be playedTo play this video you need to enable JavaScript in your browser.By Vibeke Venema, Julie Yoonnyung Lee and Samantha HaqueBBC World ServiceMany Korean television series – or K-dramas – now feature complex and powerful female characters, reflecting momentous changes in society and media habits. K-dramas are now just as likely to have a female lead as a male. One of this year’s biggest hits, The Glory, was about a woman taking revenge against her bullies, and the hugely popular Extraordinary Attorney Woo featured an autistic female lawyer.Women’s roles in K-drama weren’t always this interesting. Traditionally made to be watched by the whole family, nowadays shows even have the odd sex scene – and taboos like bisexual relationships and older people having love lives are being broken. “In the 1990s Korean dramas were mainly about chaebol – rich heirs – loving poor women,” says Hong Eun-mi, vice-chair of the Korean Screenwriters’ Association. Dramas such as Boys Over Flowers, in which spoiled rich heirs fell for plucky, working-class girls, were typical. The genre was known as “Candy girl” – named after the Japanese anime Candy Candy, about a cheerful, hard-working orphan girl waiting for her prince to sweep her off her feet. “That’s not the case now,” says Hong. “The female protagonist has changed – she’s very independent, has a professional job, and is not really bothered by marriage.” And even though dramas still love rich and powerful characters, they can now be women, too – like in Crash Landing On You, a huge global hit about an implausible, cross-border romance.The actress and singer Uhm Jung-hwa, one of the most powerful women in Korean entertainment, says the spotlight rarely shone on women in the ’90s, when women’s “life goals boiled down to finding the perfect man”.”Now we can see many strong female characters boldly embracing life on their own terms, and I feel fortunate and happy to be able to tell women’s stories, even at my age.”Image source, Saram EntertainmentThe 54-year-old has just starred in Doctor Cha, a Netflix series about a middle-aged woman who decides to complete her medical training and start work after 20 years of looking after her ungrateful family. “Doctor Cha chooses to pursue her dreams, saying that she’s done her part as a mum. Her journey is incredibly inspiring,” says Uhm. The idea of a middle-aged woman as the lead would have been unthinkable when she started her career. “Once you hit 30, you couldn’t land a leading role. If you were over 35, you were often typecast as the mother figure in a family,” she says. “Even really talented and beautiful women would vanish from the screen because of their age.”Image source, NetflixUhm thinks the shift in women’s representation is thanks to South Korea’s extraordinary economic development, which has seen GDP per capita soar from $400 (£320) to about $35,000 (£27,730) in half a century. This has led to changes in society – including the social standing of women. “Korean women are highly educated and want social success rather than marriage and childbirth – but there are some problems,” says Hong, the scriptwriter. South Korea now has the lowest birth rate in the world and scores very low on measures of women’s equality. Korean women are paid a third less on average than their male counterparts.’My boss made me wash the men’s towels at my office’But on screen, at least, women are taking charge.Forbes’ K-drama critic Joan MacDonald credits the move away from Cinderella stories to the changing landscape of Korean television, with cable channels and streaming platforms willing to take more risks – 2016 was the first year that Netflix invested in a Korean drama: Kingdom, a historical zombie saga, where a woman played one of the leads. By 2019, there were more workplace dramas and stories that involved women having influence in courts and in politics, even in historical dramas. “You started to see a lot more women with jobs, women solving problems that had nothing to do with men,” MacDonald says. Covid lockdown accelerated change – a combination of video on-demand streaming and people consuming more from home trebled K-drama viewership during the pandemic. This year half of the K-dramas MacDonald reviewed had strong female characters, which was quite a departure. “I’m not sure it completely reflects what’s going on in Korean society – but dramas certainly are leading the way.” She is reminded of how people in apartheid South Africa saw black middle-class characters for the first time on TV, when watching the Cosby show – “they had never seen black people as professionals before, and it actually influenced society”, she says. Female superheroesDrama writer Baek Mi-kyoung has pioneered female narratives on Korean television, and her shows often tackle taboo subjects. “With every show I try to break boundaries,” she says. Image source, Baek Mi-kyoungBaek’s highly-rated 2021 drama Mine featured a love story between two women, the first depiction of bisexuality on Korean TV – it was well-received, despite some angry letters. But getting women’s stories on air has not always been easy. Baek’s acclaimed 2017 series The Lady in Dignity was repeatedly rejected by broadcasters. “They thought that a story about two middle-aged women would not be commercially successful,” she says. It was only after she had a huge hit with Strong Girl Bong-soon – about a girl from a family where all women inherit supernatural strength – that Korean broadcaster JTBC finally took a punt on Lady in Dignity. The series went on to beat the viewing records Strong Girl Bong-soon had just broken. “I faced significant opposition to this project, but luckily, it was a big hit,” Baek says. “Since my drama, female characters have become more proactive and empowered and very cool and independent. But I’m not satisfied yet. I want to be game-changing.” Image source, NetflixIn her latest comedy series, about another female superhero, Strong Girl Nam-soon, she decided to tackle a different TV taboo: older people in love. “Korean audiences are crazy about romantic comedies, but only for young people. It’s a contradiction – most viewers sitting in front of the TV are seniors, but they don’t love senior love,” she says. She says she was asked not to write about older people’s sex lives because it was feared viewers would switch off. “But an older woman has a right to love in their life,” Baek says. So her character, Nam-soon’s equally strong grandmother – played by 67-year-old Kim Hae-sook – falls in love with a barista, and at one point even carries her beau into a hotel, over her shoulder. In the show, the grandmother says she has stopped watching Korean dramas because they only show young people in love. “Seniors have hearts too – their breasts may be sagging, but their hearts are beating,” her character says. “That is an important message for me to send,” says Baek. Image source, NetflixShe had ambitions to write the “first female generation superhero series” – but a very small budget limited what they could do with special effects. “There is a big difference between Marvel and my stories,” she sighs.”It is difficult to receive investment for a script featuring a woman,” says Hong, who writes for both film and television. “When a woman is the main character, the budget is very small. I am very disappointed by that.” Her own debut 2016 film, Missing, was about a workaholic, divorced mother’s desperate search for her kidnapped daughter. “I’m really proud of myself because I made a movie with female protagonists,” she says. During the pandemic Korea’s movie industry slumped, while K-drama viewership rose sharply. Streaming services provided freedom of expression and big budgets, and many filmmakers started making K-dramas. The gap between K-drama and cinema has narrowed, with dramas such as Squid Game – a hyper-violent dystopian thriller and Netflix’s most-viewed show ever – actually being made by filmmakers.Image source, ReutersBefore Covid, more than 80 big-budget movies were made per year – but this year only six, Hong says. “For the filmmakers it is a very sad story, but it’s good for Korean content, I think.”Investment from streaming platforms, and with it change, looks set to continue. Netflix is planning to invest another $2.5bn – 60% of its subscribers saw a Korean drama in 2022. Disney, Amazon Prime and others are also ploughing cash in.Hong says she no longer has to think about the budget when she writes – but at the same time, she worries that quieter, female narratives could be pushed aside to make action-packed shows in what she calls “the Squid Game effect”. “I feel they want more and more of that for the audience. Women writers get a bit sick of it,” she says. Squid Game would not have been made unless Netflix had invested money in it because it was deemed “too violent and strange” for terrestrial television in Korea, says MacDonald. She can already see that streaming is changing K-dramas. “I started watching them 14 years ago and there was a lot less violence, there was a lot less sex – you had to wait until episode 10 to get a kiss, and that’s certainly not the case any more.” Women are taking part in the violence too. My Name, a hard-hitting drama about a policeman’s daughter seeking revenge for her father’s death, had lots of fighting – and even a sex scene.Pachinko star Minha Kim speaks to actors, writers and producers in The Cultural Frontline K-drama: A global force on screenWatch Minha Kim in conversation with Uhm Jung-hwaListen on the BBC World Service or download the podcastK-dramas are famously chaste, which is part of their global appeal. “Women don’t generally have free and enjoyable sex lives in K-dramas,” says MacDonald – but that, too, is changing. And K-dramas are beginning to depict different genders and sexuality in a positive way. Image source, Netflix/Lim Hyo SeonThe hit drama Itaewon Class featured a transgender character who was treated with respect. The show was adapted from a webtoon – a comic designed to be read vertically on a smartphone – which often have millions of international fans, acting as a sort of barometer for any drama reversion. Minyoung Alissia Hong, an executive at Kakao Entertainment who was behind the adaptation, says this popularity comes with increased responsibility. “We need to be very careful not to offend any audience globally,” she says. “Korean dramas used to have much more aggressive male characters when it comes to romantic scenes. It was something that we identified as a risk, so we dealt with it before it turned out to be problematic.”Alissia Hong feels that K-dramas and K-pop actually show that men don’t have to be macho. “You can be very sensitive but you can still be a cool character,” she says. Image source, NetflixEven though the classic K-drama hero starts off as “kind of arrogant”, MacDonald says that one of the things she first liked was seeing men cry and express their feelings. “I think one of the reasons women are drawn to K-dramas is the way they portray men,” she says. “They might pretend to be macho at the beginning, but inside they’re tender, and very romantic.”She hopes K-drama “doesn’t change too much because we like it for what it is”.But she says: “Perhaps it is time for men to take note of what women’s fantasies entail. Women have been catering to men’s fantasies for centuries.”More on this storyK-dramas and Bollywood are more similar than you thinkPublished5 MarchSquid Game: The rise of Korean drama addictionPublished16 October 2021Squid Game: How one Netflix show gripped the worldPublished1 October 2021

Published15 hours agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, Punk Rock FactoryBy Natalie GriceBBC News”They were gonna love us or we were gonna be bottled.””They” are a festival crowd of heavy metal fans about to be presented with… a band playing a bunch of Disney covers. You can understand why Peej, lead singer of Punk Rock Factory, was apprehensive. Fortunately, the crowd were soon screaming along to Let It Go, the Frozen anthem loved by children worldwide.So how did a south Wales quartet end up playing Disney tunes and children’s TV theme music in a rock festival?Like many of the weird events of recent years, you can thank (or blame, depending on musical taste) Covid. A TikTok video of the band playing a cover of the Lion King’s Just Can’t Wait To Be King went viral as everyone was cooped up inside in 2020, and it snowballed.Image source, DisneyBut why did the band from Cwmbran, Torfaen – singer and guitarist Peej, Ryan (guitar), Benj (bass and vocals) and Kob (drums and vocals) – start singing Disney in the first place?The four, now mostly in their late 30s, grew up together in the local music scene, and all at various points played in bands, separately and together.In Pictures: The biggest music acts to play WalesSpotify Wrapped: Are music genres irrelevant now?Punk rock: Anarchy in the UK tribute tour in CaerphillyA couple even worked in parts of the music business, but by 2014 none of them was in bands, and they decided to meet up and play for fun and “release”.”A friend of ours owned a recording studio so on a Monday evening we’d all meet up for a laugh and hang out,” Peej said.”We ended up chucking the odd punk cover together which we would chuck up on YouTube and nobody would really see it or care, to be honest.”This Twitter post cannot be displayed in your browser. Please enable Javascript or try a different browser.View original content on TwitterThe BBC is not responsible for the content of external sites.Skip twitter post by Punk Rock FactoryAllow Twitter content?This article contains content provided by Twitter. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. You may want to read Twitter’s cookie policy,

Published20 hours agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, OutsideBy Danai Nesta KupembaBBC NewsCaught in a culture war, South Africa’s hottest music sensation Tyla is in the crossfire of an online debate over the word she uses to describe her racial identity – “coloured”. Before her rise to fame, the 21-year-old made a video proudly talking about her mixed-raced heritage on TikTok.In it she slicks her coily hair into Bantu knots, while donning a traditional beaded necklace, with the words, “I am a coloured South African” splashed across the clip like a badge of honour.The star says this means that she “comes from a lot of different cultures”. It is a simple video intended to share a part of herself with her audience. But instead, her racial identity has stoked flames across the internet, most notably, in the US. Americans see the word as a slur, unlike Tyla’s South African community, who see it as a part of their culture. In South Africa, it is a distinct identity that is officially recognised.One US user on X, formerly known as Twitter, said: “We are not gonna call her coloured here and if she personally demands it, her career will end before it begins. “She’s trying to cross over into an American market, she won’t be able to use that word here, she can use it somewhere else though.” In the US, the word harks back to the Jim Crow era, when segregationist laws were instituted in the southern states to oppress black Americans after slavery was banned.Water fountains, toilets and bus seats were marked “whites only” or “colored only”. This painful history of racial segregation mirrors that in South Africa before white-minority rule ended in 1994. Apartheid was a political system with a racial hierarchy privileging white South Africans.The Population Registration Act of 1950 required people to be registered into one of four racial categories – white, black, Indian or coloured. Another law designated residential areas according to race.Michael Morris, head of media at the South African Institute of Race Relations, says the history of the coloured community is complex, but “quintessentially South African”. The community has disparate origins but was brought together under apartheid rules.”Being a mixture of black, white, Asian, it was forged in the southern African geography in a way that no other can claim,” Mr Morris told the BBC.But because of this mixed heritage, the community was sometimes derided and dismissed in a system obsessed by categorisation.Marike de Klerk, the late wife of apartheid South Africa’s last president, once said of the coloured community in relation to the regime’s segregation laws: “They are the people that were left after the nations were sorted out. They are the rest.”Out of this complicated history people like Tyla who identify as coloured have woven a rich cultural tapestry.According to South Africa’s latest census coloured people make up 8.2% of the population.Image source, Tessa DoomsLynsey Ebony Chutel and Tessa Dooms, co-authors of Coloured: How Classification Became Culture, grew up in Eldorado Park in Johannesburg, a historically coloured township. They describe the people there as an eclectic mix of appearance, language, accents and heritage.”I never thought of myself as mixed black or white. I thought being mixed meant being from this diverse community,” Ms Dooms told the BBC, adding that it was also shaped by religion, music and big group dances.When Ms Chutel went to Columbia University in New York she found her identity, like Tyla, was the topic of conversation after she introduced herself as a coloured woman from South Africa on her first day. It did not go down well with her classmates; her roommate pulled her aside and said she had made the American students feel uncomfortable. She was forced to defend her own identity, background and culture while trying to assuage the discomfort of others. “I understand that it is a slur, but that’s not the only story here,” she says with a deep sigh. She warns that it is dangerous for Americans to try to be the arbiter when it comes to blackness, because there is no single way of being black, nor is there a single way of being coloured. South Africa radio host Carissa Cupido, who grew up in the predominantly coloured area of Mitchell Plains in Cape Town, says that despite the fact that the classification was imposed on her, she has “embraced, accepted and celebrated” being coloured. Ms Cupido interviewed Tyla two years ago, and says her accent, natural hair and energy are “tangibly coloured”.Seeing Tyla’s meteoric rise to fame has given her goose bumps, she adds.Carbon VisualsI am excited for the next generation of coloured girls to see Tyla and draw inspiration and hope from her representation”Carissa CupidoSouth Africa radio hostThe star is further popularising the amapiano sound, itself a South African blend of styles: jazz, hip-hop, soul and slowed-down house music. Tyla’s hit Water became the first solo song by a South African musician to appear on the Billboard Hot 100 chart since Hugh Masekela’s Grazing in the Grass in 1968. “Often when I talk about her on-air… I have to hold back tears,” Ms Cupido told the BBC. The emotion stems from searching for, but never finding, coloured representation in magazines as she grew up.Now in her early 30s, it has come in the form of Tyla.”I am excited for the next generation of coloured girls to see Tyla and draw inspiration and hope from her representation,” she says. There have been other coloured South African musicians who have found international fame, like rapper AKA, who was murdered earlier this year – but none have reached Tyla’s heights.Ms Cupido’s voice booms with joy when discussing Tyla’s success, but her tone shifts to annoyance at the scrutiny around the star’s identity.”I find it so disrespectful. Do not undermine someone’s way of life, just because you do not understand it,” she says. People who disregard Tyla’s heritage, she says, are also “erasing and dismissing my existence and my family’s existence, and the way we understand, perceive and navigate the world”.Ms Dooms agrees and says that even before the Tyla controversy, defending her community had been a constant: “We are fighting for the legitimacy of what we have built. What we have created, the culture we have made.”To those in America targeting Tyla, she says: “To have the audacity to question somebody’s self-identification and replace it with your own – that’s ridiculous. You are not progressive.”With a new album coming out early next year and a Grammy nomination, Tyla is likely to be dominating headlines and prompting further debate over her identity for some time yet.For Mr Morris, there is no room for criticism: “[It is] simply up to Tyla to say who she is, and what she wishes to be called. “It is nobody else’s business.” You may also be interested in:How apartheid racial categories haunt South AfricaInside amapiano, the new sound of South AfricaAround the BBCFocus on Africa podcasts

Published23 hours agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, Getty ImagesWith his rugged good looks, Ryan O’Neal was one of Hollywood’s most recognisable stars.While his contemporary Warren Beatty seduced with dark intensity, O’Neal charmed with his boy-next-door appeal.His career took him from television soap to starring roles in Love Story and What’s Up, Doc?But his star faded at the end of the 1970s and only his turbulent personal life kept him in the headlines.His son Patrick O’Neal announced his death at the age of 82 on Friday, saying “As a human being, my father was as generous as they come.”And the funniest person in any room. And the most handsome clearly, but also the most charming. Lethal combo.”StuntmanCharles Patrick Ryan O’Neal was born on 20 April 1941 in Los Angeles.Acting was in the blood. His mother Patricia was a stage actress while his father was a novelist and screenwriter.O’Neal took up boxing while at school and spent a period in Germany in the 1950s where his father had moved to work on a TV series.He developed an impressive physique both from his boxing and while working as a lifeguard.Image source, ABC Photo ArchivesThis led him to being offered a job as a stuntman on a low-budget TV series, Tales of the Vikings. He had a number of small roles in TV westerns and crime dramas before securing the part of Rodney Harrington in the TV soap, Peyton Place.Notable for its opening titles with the intonation “This is the continuing story of Peyton Place”, the series became America’s first primetime soap.”Some things in the script were so bad,” he later recalled, “we had to whisper them, hoping no-one would hear us.”HearthrobPeyton Place made O’Neal a household name and, like his co-star Mia Farrow, he was soon able to transfer his success to the big screen.Love Story brought him recognition beyond the United States.The 1970 film, based on the novel by Eric Segal, brought hankies out in cinemas across the world, and made international stars of O’Neal and Ali MacGraw. Image source, Getty ImagesThe film became the third most successful in history, and its tag line, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry”, became the cliche of the era.Despite his heartthrob status, O’Neal never repeated this success. Always a fiery character – he had served 51 days in jail for assault in 1960 – he acquired a growing reputation for a drunken temper.Memorable pairingBy way of contrast, he charmed his way on screen through such money-spinners as What’s Up, Doc?, The Main Event, and Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon, released in 1975.Affairs with a string of beautiful women including Joan Collins, Ursula Andress and his What’s Up, Doc? co-star Barbra Streisand sealed his reputation as a Hollywood heartbreaker.Image source, Getty ImagesStreisand paid tribute after his death, tweeting that she was “so sad” to have learned of his passing. “He was funny and charming, and he will be remembered,” she added.But his most memorable pairing was with his own nine-year-old daughter Tatum. In Paper Moon (1973), the father played a Bible-touting hustler, outfoxed by his feisty offspring.The witty nostalgia piece was a hit, and Tatum became the youngest ever recipient of an Academy Award, for best supporting actress.Although father and daughter became intense rivals and stopped speaking for many years, Tatum later said of their fraught relationship: “Our movie Paper Moon is always there to remind me of us.”Personal problemsTheir reconciliation was captured in a tacky TV series, Ryan & Tatum: The O’Neals, which aired in 2011.With four children from three relationships, O’Neal endured the media spotlight on his family.Tatum’s divorce from the tennis player John McEnroe, his son Griffin’s jail sentence for firearms offences, and O’Neal’s own turbulent relationship with Farrah Fawcett all guaranteed gallons of tabloid ink.Image source, Getty ImagesO’Neal and the former Charlie’s Angel were together for 17 years, withstanding rumours of drug abuse, alcoholism and O’Neal’s violent outbursts. Even their 13-year-old son Redmond spent six hours in jail for cannabis possession.As his personal problems escalated, O’Neal’s career opportunities dwindled. He binged on junk food and threw away the looks that had been his fortune, while harking back to his box-office triumphs from the 1970s.One of his few recent film appearances was People I Know, with Al Pacino, in 2002.He said of his role: “He’s a fading movie star who lives in Malibu – they didn’t have to look far.”More on this storyRyan O’Neal, star of Love Story, dead at 82Published1 day ago

Published23 hours agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, BBC Studios/Bad Wolf/DisneyBy Pete Allison & Riyah CollinsBBC Newsbeat”There’s a lot of keyboard warriors that have such a strong opinion on the roles that I play.”After her breakout role in Heartstopper, Yasmin Finney is back on our screens playing trans character Rose Noble in Doctor Who, as the show celebrates its 60th anniversary.The 20-year-old trans actress tells BBC Newsbeat being part of the cast has given her “a kooky, amazing family”, an experience she feels she missed out on.Yasmin has spoken before about being close to her mother, but the beliefs of much of her extended family mean she has little contact with them.”I don’t really speak to them as much. I kind of cut them off due to my identity,” she says. Using TikTok, where she has almost two million followers, Yasmin has been open about her experience of being a transgender black woman as well as making it as an actress. Growing up in the “mud of Manchester”, she says school was tough but she was able to relive it in a different way while playing Elle in Heartstopper.”I didn’t go to drama school, I didn’t have the privilege to see theatre shows every weekend,” she says.Yasmin says she’s “super grateful” that her roles so far have let her experience “a little bit of what I’ve missed as a person growing up”. Image source, Alistair Heap/Bad Wolf/BBC StudiosYasmin was born in 2003, two years before her now co-stars David Tennant and Catherine Tate were first cast in Doctor Who.It was their performances as The Doctor and Donna Noble – Rose’s mum – that first introduced Yasmin to the Whoniverse as a child. “I used to be obsessed with David Tennant and Catherine Tate,” she says.Now they’ve reprised their roles for the 60th anniversary specials alongside Yasmin, she says “it’s a bit weird” to think about her fandom. “But it’s just an honour to be with the greats making something so magical.”Also making up an important part of the cast in those formative years was Billie Piper who played Rose Tyler and it didn’t go unnoticed by fans that Yasmin’s character is also called Rose.”Everyone was like oh my God she’s taken Billie Piper’s role, what about Billie Piper? What’s happened? What’s happened? “No, guys, I’m simply just named after Rose.”Image source, BBC Studios/Alistair HeapBut that added pressure of being aligned with such a beloved character, as well as her trans identity, meant that for Yasmin there has been a downside to being cast in a dream role: online trolls.”Any sort of franchise that has been going years and you get a black trans woman playing the role, people are going to have their opinions,” she says.”It’s so funny because when I get a hate comment, it’ll be: ‘Your acting was so bad and I hate trans people’. “Fair enough you had one opinion, but then when you tie my identity into it, it’s just kind of unfair.”She can’t control the haters, but she can control her response and so Yasmin says she’s just focused on protecting her mental health and acing the role.”Ultimately, I just want to deliver a good performance,” she says. “I want people to laugh, I want people to smile, I want people to cry. And also I just want to be good representation for people that haven’t had it.”The Heartstopper story that was personal for its creatorHeartstopper: LGBTQ+ drama pushing the envelope Catherine Tate: Doctor Who was the best job everThe need for representation is an issue that doesn’t seem to be going away soon for Yasmin.Both as Elle and Rose, she is a trans actress playing a trans character.She hopes to be a role model for people like her growing up trans but at the same time, she hopes she’ll be able to play a variety of roles.Debates around which actors should play which roles should be a thing of the past, she thinks. Actor Eddie Redmayne previously said playing a transgender character in 2015 film The Danish Girl was “a mistake”, after some felt a trans actor should have been cast in the role.”I think there needs to be such a more open space for any actor,” Yasmin says.”If you’re a good actor, you’re a good actor. It doesn’t matter your identity, your sexuality, if you can sell a story, you can sell a story.”The third and final Doctor Who 60th Anniversary Special, The Giggle, will be broadcast on BBC One and BBC iPlayer from 18:30 GMT on Saturday 9 DecemberListen to Newsbeat live at 12:45 and 17:45 weekdays – or listen back here.More on this storyCatherine Tate: Doctor Who was the best job everPublished26 NovemberThe Heartstopper story that was personal for its creatorPublished5 AugustHeartstopper: LGBTQ+ drama pushing the envelopePublished22 April 2022

Published12 minutes agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, Getty ImagesAmerican actor Ryan O’Neal has died at the age of 82, his son said.The Oscar-nominated star is best known for his role in the critically acclaimed 1970 romance Love Story.His family did not share a cause of death, but O’Neal was diagnosed with chronic leukaemia in 2001 and prostate cancer in 2012.His son, Patrick O’Neal, wrote on Instagram that his father was “a Hollywood legend. Full stop.” “My dad passed away peacefully today, with his loving team by his side supporting him,” Patrick wrote on Friday. He added that his father had always been his “hero”. His rugged good looks catapulted him from television soap to movie stardom in Love Story. He starred as an upper-crust Harvard undergraduate who falls in love with working class student, played by Ali MacGraw. The film is considered by the American Film Institute to be among the top 10 most romantic of all time. He went on to star with Barbra Streisand in 1972 screwball comedy What’s Up, Doc?, as well as road comedy-drama Paper Moon (1973), alongside his daughter, Tatum O’Neal, and 1977 ensemble war epic A Bridge Too Far.More on this storyO’Neal gets to keep Fawcett portraitPublished20 December 2013

Published12 minutes agoShareclose panelShare pageCopy linkAbout sharingImage source, Getty ImagesAmerican actor Ryan O’Neal has died at the age of 82, his son said.The Oscar-nominated star is best known for his role in the critically acclaimed 1970 romance Love Story.His family did not share a cause of death, but O’Neal was diagnosed with chronic leukaemia in 2001 and prostate cancer in 2012.His son, Patrick O’Neal, wrote on Instagram that his father was “a Hollywood legend. Full stop.” “My dad passed away peacefully today, with his loving team by his side supporting him,” Patrick wrote on Friday. He added that his father had always been his “hero”. His rugged good looks catapulted him from television soap to movie stardom in Love Story. He starred as an upper-crust Harvard undergraduate who falls in love with working class student, played by Ali MacGraw. The film is considered by the American Film Institute to be among the top 10 most romantic of all time. He went on to star with Barbra Streisand in 1972 screwball comedy What’s Up, Doc?, as well as road comedy-drama Paper Moon (1973), alongside his daughter, Tatum O’Neal, and 1977 ensemble war epic A Bridge Too Far.More on this storyO’Neal gets to keep Fawcett portraitPublished20 December 2013