- Out of the Mouths of Cutlery: Tony Hale on “Toy Story 5” (June 22, 2026)
It’s hard to think of a contemporary actor more attuned to the frequency of the oddball than Tony Hale. The 55-year-old actor has spent decades on both the big and small screens channeling his expressive face and chutes-and-ladders vocal timbre into all manner of awkward, neurotic characters: Think the endlessly infantilized Buster Bluth on “Arrested Development,” or Selina Kyle’s perpetually browbeaten aide Gary Walsh on “Veep,” or even his corporate HR director in Netflix’s recent rom-com “Office Romance.”
But for a generation of kids, now, Hale will always be known as the voice of Forky, the gangly, inquisitive spork introduced in “Toy Story 4” as the latest permutation of that series’ preoccupation with the existential nature of childhood and play. Unlike the factory-pressed plastic of Buzz Lightyear or the exquisitely-sewn felt of Woody or Jessie, Forky is simply willed into existence through the confluence of pipe cleaners, popsicle sticks, and the imagination of a little girl. And Hale’s performance perfectly captures the frenetic mix of terror and curiosity that comes with, well, being born yesterday. (Disney even channeled Forky’s newfound inquisitiveness into a series of Disney+ shorts called “Forky Asks a Question?”)
Six years on, Forky (and Hale) return for the Andrew Stanton-directed “Toy Story 5,” which sees Bonnie’s toys reckoning with the latest danger facing the nature of play: the rise of smart technology. This time, the focus turns to Joan Cusack’s cowgirl Jessie, whose attempts to reassert her and the toys’ place in Bonnie’s life in the face of a new iPad-like device named Lilypad (voiced by Greta Lee) put her face-to-face with her own abandonment issues.
Forky’s there, too, mind; he’s a bit more settled than in “4,” integrated into the rest of the gang, but also navigating the anxious early days of his marriage to fellow cutlery companion Karen Beverly (Melissa Villasenor). (You know what they say: Happy knife, happy life.) But despite Forky’s relegation to the background in “5,” he remains a vital part of the toybox, one that Hale keeps finding new angles to appreciate.
With “Toy Story 5” now in theaters, RogerEbert.com caught up with Hale to talk about Forky’s impact on a new generation of kids, the philosophical underpinnings of being a being navigating existence, and how characters like Forky, Buster, and Gary help him process and work through his own struggles with anxiety.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
You originated the role of Forky in 2019 when “Toy Story 4” came out. How does it feel to be returning to that 6, 7 years after you took the role?
That’s wild that it’s been 7 years, but if I’m honest, I was so overwhelmed the first time around. I’ve told the story that it wasn’t until I heard my voice in the trailer that I realized they hadn’t replaced me. I was convinced they were gonna replace me with a huge star. I heard my voice, and I was like, “Oh, they kept me.” I was in awe of Pixar, and still am.
So this time around, when I found out Forky was coming back and all this stuff, it was nice. I didn’t have that kind of anxiety attached to it. It was just kind of a fun playtime.
You’re also not as much of a narrative focus in this; you get to be part of the ensemble. In the intervening years, do you feel like you understand Forky better? Does Forky understand himself better?
Oh, I love Forky. Forky is kind of my role model. It’s funny because, even though it’s 2019, Forky has been such a part of my life. When I find out kids are fans, I’ll send them a little voice memo from Forky. I just love how Forky has impacted people. To me, he’s such a curious, open, very to-the-point, real character. I’d like to be a little more like that, you know?
How does it feel to kind of know or suspect that you might be some children’s first experience with existential dread? The question of, Who am I? How was I created?
[Laughs] I know. What I love, though, is that there’s not a darkness to it. He just wants to ask the question. Everybody wants to ask the question, but it doesn’t have to be such a heavy thing. He’s just like, yeah, what is a friend? Where am I, and who am I? What’s going on? The world can obviously be so divisive, and if we just got together and calmly started asking questions, I think we might see a little more unity.
What strikes me about Forky is that when he wants to go to the trash, you can read it as a very nihilistic kind of thing, but he just really wants to be there.
Yeah, he likes the trash. I think that’s another beautiful message of “Toy Story 4,” that there’s a part in all of us that thinks we are in the trash, you know? And it took Woody to say to Forky, “Hey, you’re meant to love and to be loved.” Who doesn’t want to hear that?
It’s kind of the most wholesome version of Frankenstein’s monster. There’s a little bit of Pagliacci in there, too, with Forky.
Dude, somebody needs to teach a class. You should teach a class. You should go to the university and teach a Philosophy on Forky course.
I was gonna ask you if you’ve read or considered any philosophy to get into Forky. Because I envision him as kind of a Buddhist, but, like, an Alan Watts Buddhist.
[Laughs] He’s so comfortable in himself, that would track.
(L-R): Smarty Pants, Atlas, Snappy, Bullseye, and Jessie in Disney and Pixar’s TOY STORY 5. Photo courtesy of Pixar. © 2026 Disney/Pixar. All Rights Reserved.
The “Toy Story” franchise in general deals with questions of existence long before Forky even enters, and “Toy Story 5” is no different, not just about the nature of your creation, but your sense of usefulness in a world where technology claims to do a better job than you. Obviously, the toys-versus-tech thing is a major component of the plot.
As a parent yourself, I’m curious how those themes resonated with you, reading the script?
What I love about this whole situation is Pixar’s [approach], because they’re not going to do another “Toy Story” if there’s not a story to tell. They’re looking at the landscape of the world, and how technology’s not going away. But what they’re saying is nothing’s gonna replace true connection, true human connection. So even though technology wants to go awry sometimes, let’s always keep that balance.
I say that because, as a parent, I have preached this to my daughter, but I need to point the finger back at myself. I need to watch it, because the little ones, my daughter, they’re watching us. So as long as we can take care of ourselves, and really watch it ourselves, then, you know, hopefully it’ll unfold after that.
All of the toys exist in this spectrum between analog and digital, right? We even have other new characters that have kind of bridged the gap between the analog and the digital, as we’ll see. But Forky is the furthest on the spectrum. He’s not even a manufactured creation in a factory; he is the pure product of a child’s imagination.
You see in this movie a lot of times when you go into Bonnie’s imagination, and the animation changes, it’s super free and full of life. It’s fun to be a toy that was completely born of that wild, cool, free imagination she has.
And, Forky also has his own struggles in this movie: managing a relationship with Karen Beverly. Is Forky’s marriage the healthiest relationship one of your characters has ever had?
That’s a genius question. Okay, let me just track this.
I mean, Forky is kind of overwhelmed by and a little bit scared of Karen Beverly.
But I also love that, because he always keeps it real, and one of his lines is “I love her, but this is gonna be hard.”
Well, you know, they got married so young.
He works fast.
He was literally born yesterday.
And the only other married people he knows are the Potato Heads. And they’ve been around the whole franchise.
You think he asked them for marriage advice?
Oh, yeah. That’s “Toy Story 6,” the Potato Heads giving Forky and Karen Beverly marriage advice.
(L-R): Bullseye, Jessie, and Lilypad in Disney and Pixar’s TOY STORY 5. Photo courtesy of Pixar. © 2026 Disney/Pixar. All Rights Reserved.
While Forky doesn’t get much chance to opine on the film’s conflicts, did you give any thought to what he thinks of the situation here and of Lilypad?
I think he would think of Lilypad much like he thought of Gabby Gabby in “Toy Story 4,” because Gabby Gabby was considered the evil doll, right? But he’s like, “I think she’s got pretty hair.” So Forky goes over and starts brushing her hair, and it’s because of that crossing of the line that Gabby Gabby had a redemption story. So, even though everybody’s against Lilypad, I think he’d be kind of like, “Huh. So, these buttons…what is… how do you swipe down? How do you swipe? What’s happening here?” He would just kind of be very curious.
I don’t think Forky would see her as a threat in the same way as the other characters would. And that tracks with a lot of your characters; you have obviously spent a career playing kind of the doe-eyed, innocent, and very cynical worlds: You operate so well in that register. There’s poor, mistreated Buster Bluth. It’s Gary in “Veep” just getting absolutely abused by Selina. They’re just trying to keep up and earn the approval of characters who just won’t give them the time of day. What draws you to those characters? What do you find in those people?
If I’m honest, it doesn’t come out of nowhere. Having done Buster, Gary, and a lot of other beaten-down characters. I grew up around anxiety, and had my own struggles with school and all that kind of stuff. And I grew up also loving Bob Newhart and Tim Conway.
Bob Newhart, specifically, would just stand there in his anxiety, and it was funny. You could see the tension in his face, and I feel like that’s how anxiety lives in our bodies, you know? There’s a war going on inside, but you keep it together on the outside, and it’s peeking through. That, I feel, is a lot of my characters, especially Gary.
In those scenarios, for you as a person, what gets you through those moments of anxiety?
I mean, a lot of therapy. I did a lot of cognitive behavioral therapy. [Laughs] But if I’m honest, most of my growing up, I think I was pretty checked out. I was in my own imagination. In different scenarios, I would escape. Later in life, I started to get a little more present and to activate. This one therapist would tell me to activate the five senses. What are you seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing, and touching? To ground myself.
Cut to, I do “Inside Out 2,” playing Fear, and they actually have this little girl having what’s similar to, like, a panic attack in the end. She wakes up out of it through her senses. It’s pretty cool how art sometimes imitates life.
It is a very interesting matrix of emotions you have to convey purely through your voice, especially because you, in live action, are such an expressive performer. Your face is so much of your instrument. I’m curious how you thrive or work around the limitations of having only one element to work through.
I was very nervous about that when I started doing animation years and years ago. Just the fact that it’s just a mic in front of you. I was so used to being able to use the nonverbal, my physicality, to show the anxiety with my eyes. And then I have to relay that through that microphone. I woke up to the fact that, “Oh, I’m gonna do the same performance in front of this mic as I do in front of the camera.”
I just go crazy in the booth. If anything, I take the performance I do on camera and just put it on steroids. And many times, the voice director would have to be like, “Hey, Tony, you gotta stay close to the mic.” You gotta stay close to the mic.”
It’s unfortunate that we’re not getting a new set of “Forky Asks a Question?” for “Toy Story 5.” But what questions do you think Forky still has to ask?
Many. I mean, what I love about the first set was so simple, and it was so because he might have a lot of questions now about relationships. About technology. The great thing is, Forky can be the tool when we’re sometimes afraid to ask. It’s a bummer that there’s shame attached to asking questions, and thankfully, there’s a character like Forky who just doesn’t have that shame.
Out of the mouths of cutlery, you know?
[Laughs] That’ll be the name of his book.
In addition to Toy Story, I wanted to ask you about another recent film you did that explores a similar sense of play: “Sketch.“
That was a passion project, big time.
What were you working out with that one, in terms of the same instincts of play and things like that?
That took us 8 years to make, and Seth Worley, who directed and wrote it, had just been trying to get it made for so many years. I believed mainly in Seth, just wanting this whole marriage of, like, we described it like “Inside Out” meets “Jurassic Park,” about this girl who draws drawings, and they come to life. What Seth did so beautifully is that it’s this ordinary world, and then the supernatural just bashes into it, you know?
There’s a big grief message in it, and how to grieve. Of the things in my work and my career, that’s very much at the top of the list.
Hopefully, it’s not another 6-7 years before you get to play Forky again, but where would you like to see Forky go in a theoretical follow-up?
Travel him. Just, like, put him on a boat and just travel him around the world and just see where that takes him. I would like some kind of Forky companion to be like, “Hey man, I don’t know if I’m comfortable asking this.” He’d be like, “Yeah, game on. No shame, let’s do it.”
Have people in Europe even seen a spork? I don’t know.
I should get it trending. That has not gotten enough of the spotlight. We need some more sporks.
What else are you working on right now?
I’m about to start this Nancy Meyers project with Jude Law, Owen Wilson, and Penelope Cruz, which is very exciting. I just moved to Alabama. My wife’s family is from there, and we had been in LA for, like, 21 years, and we needed to be closer to family. So, that has been awesome, and a big change.
I mean, if the “Toy Story” movies have taught us anything, it’s how to deal with change.
Yeah, I’m not great at it, but I’m trying to get better.
- Courtney Grace, “Disclosure Day,” and the One-Scene Wonder (June 22, 2026)
Spoilers for “Disclosure Day” immediately ahead.
After exiting the press screening of “Disclosure Day” a few weeks back, I powered up my phone and looked up Courtney Grace, who plays the NBC News anchor in a pivotal late-film scene. Over the course of just a few minutes, with the emotional weight of the entire story in the balance, Grace’s unnamed character serves as the messenger to much of the world as she witnesses and processes, in real time, the incredible footage proving that aliens have been among us for nearly 80 years.
At first, she’s in journalist mode, delivering the news. Then she apologizes for the disturbing images, wrestles with the profound implications of the footage, and finally, reassures the viewer: If you are watching this, you are not alone.
What brilliant work! One character, whom we didn’t even know existed while we followed the paths of the central figures played by Emily Blunt, Josh O’Connor, et al., is suddenly tasked with bringing the story to a close. The anchor doesn’t interact with anyone else. We see shots of her at the news desk, alternated with the no-longer-secret government footage of the aliens. Her reactions are raw and real.
Who is Courtney Grace? Is she a TV journalist playing a version of herself, ala Wolf Blitzer, Rachel Maddow, Lester Holt, and the literal King of almost too many appearances to count, the late Larry King? Or is she an actor portraying an anchor?
In a way, both. Grace spent seven years as a TV news reporter and anchor, primarily with WTSP in Tampa, FL, before quitting her job three years ago to pursue an acting career. Since then, she has had small parts in series such as “Tulsa King,” “Sweet Magnolias,” and “Stranger Things”—but it’s her singularly powerful performance and the poise she displays while helping bring a Steven Spielberg film to an emotional conclusion.
I love a good “one-off’ scene, where an instantly indelible character who usually arrives with little narrative baggage is suddenly plunged into the narrative, often deep into the story, and shifts our attention away from the main players. Often, they’re the smartest person in the room. Frequently, they drop emotional and plot-point grenades.
The best of these performances shakes things up. They inject a visceral kineticism into the proceedings. They change the game.
(We’re not talking about gimmicky cameos, however entertaining they may be, e.g., Sean Connery showing up as King Richard in “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves,” or George Clooney’s Bruce Wayne stepping out of the car in “The Flash.” A true one-off wonder is integral to the story, dominates the screen for a few golden moments, and leaves a deep footprint.)
Occasionally, the one-off performance will introduce a blazing talent with exciting potential. Think of Robert Duvall’s Boo Radley emerging from the shadows in “To Kill a Mockingbird.” For the entirety of the story, Boo Radley has been constructed as the boogeyman, a dangerous monster, but when Mary Badham’s Scout casts eyes on him, she sees a scared, gentle, and lonely man. That Duvall silently conveys so much with his eyes and his body language, and the hesitancy of his movement is all the more remarkable in retrospect, given what we’d come to know about his booming, commanding voice.
Then there’s Brad Pitt, whose resume included roles such as “Boy at the Beach,” “Waiter,” and “Party Guest” before he exploded onto the scene as the charismatic drifter and con man in “Thelma & Louise.” The shirtless Pitt bounced into the scene with an electric, movie-star presence.
Much more often, though, the great one-off performances come from established actors who come in with chops blazing. Arguably, the most cited example is the Oscar-winning performance by Beatrice Straight as Louise Schumacher in “Network” (1976). In just over 5 minutes of screen time, Straight burns down the house after William Holden’s Max Schumacher confesses to an affair, as Louise explodes with rage and pain. (Dame Judi Dench is often mentioned in the same breath as Straight due to Dench’s brief, Oscar-winning role as Queen Elizabeth I in “Shakespeare in Love,” and it’s a performance for the ages—but we see Dench a number of times in the film.)
Quentin Tarantino has teamed up with some legendary performers to deliver unforgettable one-off moments. His script for 1993’s “True Romance” (directed by Tony Scott) features Christopher Walken as the dapper and snake-blooded Vincenzo Coccotti, who goes toe-to-toe with Dennis Hopper in one of the most tense exchanges in movie history. Walken has another moment to shine in “Pulp Fiction” (1994), with Captain Koons telling young Butch Coolidge in excruciatingly exact detail about a certain family heirloom.
Another one of my favorites, and one of the most-quoted one-off appearances: Alec Baldwin’s laser-focused and alternately hilarious and terrifying performance as the sociopathic corporate fixer in “Glengarry Glen Ross” (1992). The role and the scene didn’t even exist in David Mamet’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play, but Mamet crafted a near-perfect monologue for Baldwin, who killed with such lines as, “Put that coffee down! Coffee’s for closers only,” and, “Second prize is a set of steak knives. Third prize is you’re fired.”
In “The Fabelmans,” Spielberg’s latest release prior to “Disclosure Day,” David Lynch makes one of the most memorable one-scene appearances in recent memory as John Ford, who barks at aspiring young filmmaker Sammy Fabelman: “Now remember this! When the horizon’s at the bottom, it’s interesting. When the horizon’s at the top, it’s interesting. When the horizon is in the middle, it’s boring as shit. Now, good luck to you. And get the f— out of my office!”
Priceless.
For “Disclosure Day,” the casting of Courtney Grace is brilliant on a number of levels. If Spielberg had cast a famous actor, there’s the danger it would have taken us out of the moment and shifted focus from the intensity of the scene in favor of us chuckling and nodding in recognition. If he had gone with a name anchor—well, that would have been a lot of heavy lifting even for a Wolf Blitzer or a Rachel Maddow. Most of us didn’t know Grace before she appeared onscreen, but we instantly believed her in an anchor role that, on some level, she’d been prepping to do for the better part of a decade.
- Apple TV’s “Sugar” Reaches for the Stars in Grounded, Moving Second Season (June 19, 2026)
Even if you haven’t watched season one of Apple TV’s “Sugar,” you probably already know about its wacky end-of-season plot twist. Debuting in 2024, the series focuses on private investigator John Sugar (Colin Farrell), who specializes in missing-persons cases, inspired by his sister, who went missing years earlier. No matter the particulars of the case, Sugar remains driven by the anguish of not knowing what happened to her, diving headfirst into the dangers of Los Angeles’ slick city streets.
But John Sugar isn’t your ordinary detective; he’s not human at all. The man’s true self takes the form of a blue-skinned alien, and he has been sent to Earth to study and observe humanity. This twist alienated some, and engaged others—like myself—who saw it as a bold swing in a television landscape that in 2024 felt more lackluster than it does today. Once it was revealed, the eight-episode first season took on a whole new dimension, and the series continues to reach for the stars as Sugar finds himself on the hunt for Ji Moon (Raymond Lee), another victim of the promises of America’s most notorious city.
Initially dismissed as a drug-fueled binge, Sugar is hired by Ji’s up-and-coming boxer brother, Danny (Jin Ha). As Sugar plunges deeper into the dark recesses of Ji’s community, he discovers that while hiding out in a hospital after stealing drugs, the man witnessed a murder, prompting his hasty disappearance. As the threads of this case come together, and Sugar and Danny desperately try to locate Ji, our protagonist becomes exposed to the abject apathy of modern humanity. While worrying over how embedded he has become in this case, Sugar asks himself, and the audience, “If I walk away, who helps them?”
The group in question expands from Ji and Danny to LA’s homeless population, both of whom Sugar can’t seem to stray away from. Sugar is someone who spends his time fascinated by classical Hollywood cinema, with these films serving as his means of understanding Earth and the people who inhabit it. But what Sugar still doesn’t seem to get about the country he resides in is that it is wholly corrupt, and one that seldom ever changes for the better. His love for Earth and its inhabitants often leads him to act with his heart rather than his brain, putting himself and his newfound friends in danger.
This is where the season begins to take shape as a more refined and bolder version of the show that premiered in 2024. Each step Sugar takes threatens his safety, allowing the season to ramp up its stakes and take on the shape of an actual noir rather than a show that focuses on a man playing at one. The editing and pacing of the first couple of episodes may feel frenetic, but as we go back and forth between the past and present, the story that shapes up in season two is one of this year’s most engaging. Although there are points where the pacing wanes, resulting in some episodes that slog along, the majority of season two is a meaningful examination of loneliness in the modern age.
Sugar’s fascination with humanity stems from deep isolation, and by exploring this, season two exposes how fundamentally lonely modern life is. The characters he connects with this season are all broken people society has discarded, and while trying to protect them, he finds some satisfaction, yet he still longs to make these connections deeper. As he contextualizes relationships like sibling bonds and social activities like clubbing through movie scenes that flicker from his brain onto the screen, he slowly begins to open up and, in doing so, becomes one of the most interesting protagonists on television this spring.
Thankfully, this time around, the people whose lives he gets wrapped up in are just as fascinating as him, from the brothers he’s desperate to reunite, to his new partner in crime, Val (Sasha Calle). What makes this season stand out is new showrunner Sam Catlin’s understanding of what season one lacked, and his willingness to restructure this series plot structure as well as its character work. “Sugar” has proven itself not to be a detective drama driven by the wacky origins of its protagonist. Instead, it’s an exploration of how we can retain our humanity in an age when the powers that be seem so desperate to strip each of us of it.
All episodes were screened for review.
- Uncomfortable Truths: “Set It Off,” “Girl 6,” and “Naked Acts” at 30 (June 19, 2026)
By 1995, Black cinema had once again taken a foothold in mainstream culture. Young Black directors like John Singleton, Spike Lee, The Hughes Brothers, Ernest R. Dickerson, Doug McHenry, Reginald Hudlin, Keenen Ivory Wayans, Rusty Cundieff and Matty Rich had all made successful films with Black casts, telling a variety of Black stories across multiple genres. There were the gritty coming of age films like “Juice,” “Menace II Society” and “Boyz N The Hood”; comedies like “Boomerang,” “A Low Down Dirty Shame” and “Fear of a Black Hat”; horror films (“Tales From the Hood”), (“Tales from the Crypt Presents: Demon Knight”) and even romance (“Jason’s Lyric”).
At that point, auteur director Spike Lee was already in a class of his own, with a larger filmography than any of his peers, telling stories across different genres, sometimes even set in different decades. That year, Lee released the crime drama “Clockers,” based on the novel of the same name by Richard Price, to some critical acclaim. A few months earlier, music video director F. Gary Gray made the jump to feature filmmaking, adapting Ice Cube and DJ Pooh’s screenplay “Friday” for the big screen, which led to a surprise box-office success.
But despite this exciting time for Black film, few narratives centered on the lives and experiences of Black women. By that point, Steven Spielberg’s “The Color Purple” was a decade-old curiosity marred in controversy, despite its massive critical acclaim. The film, based on the Alice Walker novel of the same name, was one of the first mainstream American films to focus entirely on the lives of Black women. The first known feature film directed by a Black woman was Kathleen Collins’s “Losing Ground” (1982), but it was never given a theatrical release.
In the years since, Black female directors like Julie Dash (“Daughters of the Dust”) and Leslie Harris (“Just Another Girl on the I.R.T.”) saw modest success for their work, their films were overshadowed critically and financially by the work of their male peers. Director Ayoka Chenzira self-funded her debut feature, “Alma’s Rainbow,” in 1994, but the film never reached theaters. This would become a recognizable pattern in the male-driven Black cinematic landscape—films by Black men got their time in the sun fairly quickly, while Black women’s work barely registered outside film festivals, awaiting reassessment in the years to come by thoughtful critics and academics.
It makes sense, then, that when the ’90s finally got a successful film about Black women, it was made by a man—Forest Whitaker, in his directorial debut. The film was an adaptation of Terry McMillan’s novel of the same name, following four friends through a year of love and heartbreak in scenic Phoenix, Arizona. “Waiting to Exhale” went on to become the most successful film starring Black actresses since “The Color Purple,” with the added bonus of a Black creative team that included music by Babyface and the star power of four established Black actresses, including superstar Whitney Houston and Academy Award nominee Angela Bassett. Rounding out the cast are character actress and theater legend, Loretta Devine, and Lela Rochon.
The film also boasts an array of Black male suitors, including legendary actor Gregory Hines, Dennis Haysbert, Wesley Snipes, Wendell Pierce, Mykelti Williamson, and Leon. Though it’s never led to any sequels, reboots, or television series, Whitaker’s film continues to be the standard for female friendship on the big screen, calcified by its enduring presence on television throughout the late ’90s and ’00s.
In 1996, not long after the box-office success of “Waiting to Exhale,” directors Spike Lee and F. Gary Gray both released films that also centered Black women, telling fresh stories that highlighted their marginalized place in society. Lee was no stranger to films with female protagonists, having made the sex-forward dark romantic comedy “She’s Gotta Have It” and the family dramedy “Crooklyn” in 1994. Meanwhile, Gray was still pretty green and hungry to establish himself as a gritty, big-budget action director with a buzzy cast and hip-hop-heavy soundtracks. Lee’s “Girl 6” explored the sexualization of Black women in mainstream cinema and entertainment, focusing on the struggle of one Black actress who just wants to find good work without having to take her clothes off. In contrast, Gray’s “Set It Off” used a pulpy heist vehicle to highlight the way Black women are underestimated and marginalized by everyone around them.
The women in both films are fighting to be taken seriously and treated with respect—not just from white people, but Black men as well. Surprisingly, Gray is more successful in that regard, with nearly every man in “Set It Off’ pointedly failing the vulnerable women at the center. As they are pushed to more desperate action, they become bolder and more devoted to each other. The escalation feels motivated by the unhappy truths that create a gulf of misunderstanding between Black men and women. “Girl 6” is more sexually explicit, but its gender critique is much tamer in comparison. Star Theresa Randle is an island of a woman, with no female friends outside of work. Lee, playing Randle’s cousin, and actor Isaiah Washington are the only people who seem to know her. Washington plays her bizarre ex-husband, who curiously shoplifts items around New York City.
When “Set It Off” premiered in the fall of 1996, actress Jada Pinkett was the only bona fide movie star in the main cast. After breaking out on “A Different World,” Pinkett starred in “Menace II Society,” “The Inkwell,” “Jason’s Lyric,” “A Low Down Dirty Shame,” and “Tales from the Crypt Presents: Demon Knight.” And just that June, her star continued to rise when she played a love interest for Eddie Murphy in the family comedy “The Nutty Professor.”
Roland Emmerich’s blockbuster “Independence Day” set the box office on fire only a month later, introducing TV actress Vivica A. Fox to audiences everywhere. Actress and rapper Queen Latifah also made the jump from television after years on “Living Single.” Rounding out the cast, Kimberly Elise is the only true newcomer, with “Set It Off” being both her film debut and the first substantial acting role she’d ever had at that point. John C. McGinley and Ella Joyce (“Roc”) play the film’s interracial cop duo, pursuing the women with single-minded determination. Joyce’s performance adds an interesting wrinkle to the story, playing a Black woman cop who seems to have no empathy for the struggling women in her community. McGinley’s performance is fascinating as well, as he seems to be one of the few men in the film who understands what drove the foursome to crime.
“Set It Off” was a box office success, further proving that there was a market for Black women-centric stories, regardless of genre. Audiences came to see a film about four very different Black women who navigate their love lives and support one another. Why wouldn’t they come to see four working-class Black women who start robbing banks to get out of their poor Southern California neighborhood? A studio executive could describe “Set It Off” as “‘Waiting to Exhale’ meets ‘Thelma & Louise’” and they wouldn’t be too far off.
When Frankie (Fox) loses her job as a bank teller after a robbery, she comes to her best friends with a scheme: They all wear wigs and sunglasses, rob banks and make enough money to get them all out of town. Cleo (Latifah) takes to the work immediately, happy to impress her sexy girlfriend Ursula (Samantha Maclachlan) and live the gangsta lifestyle. Meanwhile, the timid Tisean (Elise) is only interested in providing for her child as a single mother. In the midst of all the madness, Stony lives out a romantic fantasy with a young, handsome banker (Blair Underwood), making a name for himself amongst the city’s white monied elite. Throughout the film, Stony questions whether she could ever belong in such a world, even if she put her criminal activities behind her for good.
“Girl 6” plays like both a spiritual sequel to “She’s Gotta Have It” and Spike Lee’s female answer to Robert Townsend’s “Hollywood Shuffle”, pairing Hollywood satire with an exploration of the sexual politics of being a Black actress. The film even uses Nola Darling’s opening monologue in the audition scenes. Lee cast underrated actress Theresa Randle at the center, along with the legendary Jenifer Lewis, Debi Mazar, Naomi Campbell, Gretchen Mol, and Debra Wilson (“Mad TV”).
Randle plays a talented actress objectified by the male-dominated Hollywood machine. Unable to get any roles, she takes a job at a phone sex line to make money and practice her craft as an actress. This struggle seemed to mirror Randle’s real-life hurdles in the industry—even after “Girl 6,” the gifted actress was relegated to supporting and love-interest roles in films like “Space Jam” and the “Bad Boys” franchise. This reality adds a tragic layer to the narrative, proving its point without moving the needle.
The actress flourishes in the office, maintaining a nice roster of callers—all mostly white men who have no idea she’s a Black woman. Running alongside Randle’s narrative is a news story about a little girl who fell down an elevator shaft. At times, Lee will cut to the image of the empty shaft, plunging down into an endless abyss, illustrating the actress’s descent into the seedy world of phone sex. The screenplay for “Girl 6” was written by Black playwright Suzan-Lori Parks, marking her first foray into cinema. Neither Parks’s writing nor Lee’s direction softens the film’s judgmental tone, and it doesn’t help that we never truly seem to get to know Girl 6. Randle remains unnamed until the film’s end, when Washington calls her ‘Judy.’
Overall, “Girl 6” feels like experimental theater in the shape of a film, keeping us at an emotional distance as the story becomes more abstract. The film features original music by Prince—which adds to the film’s unique charm—and an impressive slate of actor cameos, including Madonna, Quentin Tarantino, Ron Silver, Halle Berry, Mekhi Phifer, and Lee regular John Turturro. But unlike “Set It Off,” “Girl 6” was not a critical or financial success–thankfully, Lee released another more successful film that year (“Get On the Bus”).
But there was another film made in 1996 that explored the struggles of being a Black actress in an exploitative world. Director Bridgett M. Davis wrote and directed her debut feature, “Naked Acts,” with no studio or distributor, and was forced to distribute the film on her own. The story follows Cicely (Jake-Ann Jones), an actress living in the shadow of her mother, Lydia Love (Patricia DeArcy), a Blaxploitation icon. While Lydia was becoming a star, Cicely was being preyed on by her mother’s smarmy boyfriend. Now Cecily is all grown up, with a new svelte body and something to prove. But when she finds out her new film role includes a nude scene, Cicely does everything she can to avoid it.
As she slowly comes to terms with her body and gains her confidence, Cicely confronts the way Black women are both marginalized and sexualized on and offscreen. Scenes of arguments between Cecily, the other actresses, the producer, and the director give the film a realistic feel. “Naked Acts” is a film about women, by women, and for that reason, it feels like the rawest snapshot of the mental, physical, and emotional hurdles Black actresses face when they perform. Weighed down by stigma and expectation, Cecily ultimately just wants to make peace with her body and cope with the trauma of her childhood. Despite the heft of her journey, “Naked Acts” retains a light touch. Its ending feels truly peaceful.
- How My Love for Film Saved My Life (June 19, 2026)
People underestimate the strength it takes to pull oneself out of the depths of darkness. In the Summer of 2022, I found myself suicidal due to the physical pain I was experiencing from injuries sustained in a car accident.
In June of that year, most of the world had just reopened after years of lockdowns and social distancing. Looking to reconnect with my community in familiar territory, I went to Tribeca (one of the first major film festivals to open in the US), excited to support a colleague’s film premiere. I left the festival feeling invigorated and inspired by the energy of being out in the world again.
Upon my return to LA, my life was changed in a split second. A drunk driver was driving in the wrong lane and rear-ended me. I saw my life flash before my eyes. My car (affectionately named Fussili because she was Italian and shaped like pasta) was totaled. I sustained several internal injuries, muscle contusions on my back and right hip, bruised arms, and a torn ligament on my right ankle. Suddenly, I was disabled and navigating the world with invisible injuries.
I naïvely thought I would be back on my feet in a month. But a month turned into a year, and a year turned into 3.5 years.
My poorly-insulated apartment in The Valley is like a hot box if not properly cooled down. During the first two months of my recovery, which were also peak summer, I experienced excruciating pain from my injuries as well as debilitating heat. I couldn’t walk without the support of a cane. I couldn’t sit for too long, lie down for too long, or stand up for too long. I was in a melting box without any relief and got to the point where I had suicidal thoughts, believing it would be better to depart this realm. In the darkness of it all, at the bottom, I kept looking for the light. A chance visit by a friend saved me from the depths of my depression when she encouraged me to go to TIFF, something I had written off as a possibility for that year.
I researched how to travel with limited mobility and how to navigate TIFF, since the festival has long lines. I figured out how to use a wheelchair to navigate the airports and made use of the festival’s accessibility services. While it was challenging for me to maneuver, being in that space truly saved my life as I was able to be in an environment that celebrates film. I absolutely love watching movies and can average 5 films a day, but that year, I could barely sit through a single film.
After TIFF, I realized that I needed to work diligently to get myself into communities that fed my soul. Through my injuries, I continued to pursue the opportunities that would foster my creativity. Living in California, where I have no blood relatives close by, I learned to ask for help and patience from the people around me. I found that I had friends who I can call family, who showed up for me consistently. Words could never explicitly express my deepest gratitude.
I was lucky enough to be accepted into the Presidential Leadership Scholars, Film Independent Amplifier, Red Sea Lodge, and the Realness Development Executive Trainee program. These fellowships and the various festivals I attended motivated me to keep championing my projects and to reintegrate into society in a way that allowed me to show up for my recovery. Through these opportunities, I met incredible people who genuinely leaned in with empathy and patience. They shared their own stories of overcoming obstacles and encouraged me to keep pushing forward.
All in all, as I reflect back on my recovery journey, I learned that recovery is as much mental as it is physical, and above everything, community is essential for succeeding at our healing and our wellbeing.
