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Endless Cookie arrives as a daring, hand‑crafted animation that immerses viewers in the everyday chaos of a Canadian Cree household in the remote Shamattawa First Nation. The project, conceived and voiced by half‑brothers Seth and Peter Scriver, took nine years to complete, a fact the film humorously acknowledges through its meta‑narrative and frequent self‑parody. The visual style feels like a cross between Cheech and Chong antics and the digressive storytelling of Tristram Shandy, with scenes that oscillate between vivid surrealism and grounded family moments. From a post‑apocalyptic Toronto backdrop to a sprawling story map described as “bulging like a distended colon,” the animation pushes the boundaries of conventional indie filmmaking. Beyond its eccentric humor, the film tackles weighty themes with a wry yet respectful tone. It shines a light on police racism and historic land theft, while celebrating ancestral continuity and community resilience. The narrative deliberately sidesteps the Scrivers' own cultural positions, allowing the Indigenous perspective to remain front and centre. Key vignettes include a chaotic caribou stakeout, a punk‑era flashback to 1980s Toronto, and a bizarre encounter with a clingy snowy owl—each episode underscored by the presence of the family’s twelve dogs, two of which are humorously named Cheech and Chong. The film’s funding source even appears as a talking slide rule, adding another layer of self‑referential comedy. Critics have likened the animation’s energy to a “SpongeBob SquarePants episode after an afternoon of smoking DMT,” while also noting its lineage to the counter‑cultural spirit of Fritz the Cat. The result is a work that feels both hallucinatory and deeply affectionate toward its subjects. Endless Cookie becomes available for streaming on Mubi starting 17 April, offering audiences a rare glimpse into a vibrant, self‑determined Indigenous narrative that challenges mainstream cinematic conventions.

Israeli forces have fired teargas at Palestinian schoolchildren who were staging a sit-in in the occupied West Bank after settlers blocked access to their school. The incident occurred in the village of Umm al-Khair, in the southern West Bank region of Masafer Yatta.The schoolchildren, who had been due back in class on Monday for the first time in more than 40 days, had gathered near a barbed wire fence erected by Israeli settlers. The fence blocked access to the school, prompting the children and some local adults to hold an open-air class as a sit-in to demand access. Israeli troops responded by firing teargas at the protesters.Witnesses described the scene as chaotic, with children screaming and fleeing after the teargas canisters were fired. A 12-year-old girl, Sarah al-Hathaleen, recounted her experience: “We were sitting and they threw a grenade [teargas canister] at us. I got scared and started screaming and ran away.”The Israeli military stated that they had dispersed an “unusual gathering” but did not specify whether they had fired teargas. The incident highlights the ongoing tensions in the West Bank, particularly in the Masafer Yatta region, which is a known hotspot for settler violence and Palestinian home demolitions.The Masafer Yatta region has seen increased violence since the outbreak of the Iran war. More than 500,000 Israelis now live in settlements in the West Bank, which are illegal under international law, among about 3 million Palestinians. Israel has occupied the West Bank since 1967.

A devastating stampede at Haiti's iconic Citadelle Laferriere has claimed the lives of at least 30 people, with authorities warning that the death toll may rise. The tragedy unfolded on Saturday during an annual celebration at the early-19th-century fortress, a popular tourist attraction and UNESCO World Heritage Site.The stampede occurred at the entrance to the site, where a large crowd of students and visitors had gathered. Heavy rain exacerbated the disaster, leading to a chaotic and deadly situation. Haiti's Prime Minister, Alix Didier Fils-Aime, extended his condolences to the bereaved families, assuring them of his solidarity during this difficult time.The Culture Minister, Emmanuel Menard, confirmed the deaths of 30 people, stating that the injured are receiving medical care and a rescue team is searching for any missing persons. The exact number of those injured remains unknown. This incident highlights the ongoing challenges faced by Haiti, which has struggled with widespread gang violence and deadly disasters in recent years, including fuel tank explosions and earthquakes.

PCK Dance’s latest double‑bill, “Into the Light,” opens with a palpable tension: dancers inhale as if grasping something costly, their gazes unfixed, brows furrowed, signalling an emotional gravitas that the production amplifies with dark lighting and portentous music.Choreographers James Pett and Travis Clausen‑Knight, both alumni of Company Wayne McGregor, demonstrate why their pedigree matters. Their movement language is slick, finessed and relentlessly precise, with legs whipping to extreme angles and sequences that cascade like the “chatter of a motoring brain.” The duo’s fluency in form lets them forgo the heavy‑handed theatrical cues that often drown subtler expression.The centerpiece, the duet “In the Absence,” features Pett and Clausen‑Knight alongside third dancer Isabelle Evans. Their interplay oscillates between closeness and disconnection, tension and tenderness, hinting at loss. Evans’s decisive gestures—flexed wrists, expressive hands—act as declarations, while a striking passage sees the choreographers literally throwing her body between them, creating a kinetic flash that feels both chaotic and meticulously crafted.Music, composed by Pett with co‑composer Greg Haines, emerges live from a bank of stage‑side technology. The piano interludes give way to pitch‑less textures that evoke a “joyless, end‑of‑days” ambience. This soundscape reinforces the programme’s suggestion that the work grapples with survival in an AI‑driven future, casting the performance as a low‑key apocalypse rather than a conventional dystopia.By marrying razor‑sharp choreography with a minimalist, tech‑infused score, PCK Dance asks a vital question: in a world increasingly mediated by algorithms, what does it mean to remain truly human? The answer, if any, lies in the fleeting connections forged on stage—moments where bodies speak louder than the surrounding machinery.

Rory McIlroy has taken a commanding lead at the Masters, surging six shots clear of his nearest rivals with a breathtaking second-round 65. The 36-year-old McIlroy, seeking to become the fourth man to win back-to-back Masters titles, carded an eagle and 10 birdies to post 12 under par. McIlroy's closest challengers are Patrick Reed and Sam Burns, both on six under, while Justin Rose, Shane Lowry and Tommy Fleetwood are a further stroke back on five under. McIlroy's stunning chip-in at the 18th hole capped a dominant display, setting up a tantalizing prospect of a second Green Jacket. Tyrrell Hatton moved to four under with a 66, while Brooks Koepka recovered from pre-tournament criticism to card a 68 and make the cut. The halfway cut eliminated several notable players, including Bryson DeChambeau after a chaotic 18th hole.

The recent revival of Malcolm in the Middle, titled 'Life's Still Unfair', has left audiences and critics alike in awe of its miraculous comeback. The show, which originally aired from 2000 to 2006, has been revived with a four-episode special, and it's clear that the magic is still very much alive. Bryan Cranston, who played the lovable but chaotic father Hal, is at the top of his game, delivering a performance that's being hailed as one of the best of his career. His portrayal of a drug-induced ego death is particularly noteworthy, showcasing his incredible range as an actor. The show's revival is not just a nostalgic throwback; it's a well-crafted extension of the original series. The story picks up 20 years after the original series ended, with Malcolm (played by Frankie Muniz) having grown up and moved away from his chaotic family life. However, circumstances force him and his secret teenage daughter back into the fold, leading to a series of hilarious and heartwarming moments. Frankie Muniz shines in his return as Malcolm, bringing a depth and nuance to the character that's impressive. His performance in the emotional climax of the series, where he confronts his mother, is particularly noteworthy, showcasing his talent and dedication to the role. The show's success is a testament to the enduring power of comedy and the talented cast and crew. With its fast-paced humor, emotional depth, and standout performances, 'Life's Still Unfair' is a must-watch for fans of the original series and newcomers alike. The revival is currently streaming on Disney+, and it's clear that this is a limited series that will leave viewers wanting more. Here's hoping that the success of 'Life's Still Unfair' will lead to a full new series, giving fans the opportunity to revisit the lovable but chaotic world of Malcolm in the Middle.

A harrowing video captured by a 13-year-old girl has surfaced, showcasing the terrifying moment Israel bombed Beirut. The footage, obtained from aljazeera, provides a glimpse into the devastating impact of the airstrike on civilians in the Lebanese capital.The video, which has garnered significant attention, depicts the chaotic scene immediately following the bombing. The girl's documentation of the event serves as a poignant reminder of the human cost of conflict.The incident has sparked widespread concern and condemnation, with many calling for an investigation into the circumstances surrounding the airstrike. The Israeli military has not publicly commented on the incident.

Cameron Picton, the bassist‑vocalist behind British art‑rock outfit Black Midi, has unveiled his first solo statement under the moniker My New Band Believe. Recorded with a cadre of improvisational musicians—including veteran drummer Steve Noble, formerly of Rip Rig + Panic—the album abandons the band’s signature wall of sound for an intimate, acoustic approach.The record opens with the gentle ballad “Still,” a track originally tucked away on Black Midi’s sprawling rock‑opera Hellfire. Here, Picton’s unadorned vocal delivery replaces Geordie Greep’s theatrical croons, setting a tone of understated sincerity that runs through the entire project.Every song is built from live‑sounding instruments: fingerpicked guitars, double bass, piano, subtle percussion and tasteful string arrangements. This stripped‑back aesthetic allows the lyrics to move away from Black Midi’s often surreal narratives toward more direct, everyday subjects. For instance, the opening track “Target Practice” retains a hint of the band’s dark humor, while “Love Story” paints a nostalgic picture of a couple cooking together, and “Opposite Teacher” reflects on the challenges of fatherhood.Even within this quieter framework, Picton injects moments of tension. The second track, “In the Blink of an Eye,” introduces dissonant chords that remind listeners that “understated” is a relative term for an artist accustomed to sonic extremes. Throughout, the songs remain episodic, with sudden key changes and tempo shifts that echo the restless spirit of Van Dyke Parks’ 1967 Song Cycle—a collaboration Picton initially pursued before budget constraints halted the partnership.Highlights such as “Heart of Darkness” weave together folk‑rock riffs, jazzy drumming and an improvised coda of feedback‑like strings, while “Actress” balances sweet melodies with dramatic pauses and volume surges, ending more as a gradual fade than a conventional finish.Compared with Black Midi’s recent releases—most notably the chaotic, genre‑bending Hellfire and Geordie Greep’s solo effort The New Sound—Picton’s debut feels more approachable without sacrificing artistic curiosity. The album’s constant motion is contained by its acoustic instrumentation, making it easier to love rather than merely admire. It resists standard song structures, defies easy categorisation, and showcases a plethora of unconventional musical ideas, all while wearing its intelligence with a lighter touch.

In the spring of 2002, the modest Free Butt pub on Brighton’s seafront buzzed with a restless energy. Future stars such as Natasha Khan, then a university art student, danced atop the bar while the Yeah Yeah Yeahs thundered through their first UK dates. Behind the scenes, band frontmen like Guy McKnight of Eighties Matchbox B‑Line Disaster served pints, and budding engineers like Steve Ansell of Cat on Form fine‑tuned the sound. The atmosphere felt like a rite of passage, where any performer could slip from a cramped stage to national attention.Unlike the neatly branded scenes of New York’s garage‑rock revival or London’s Libertines‑driven hype, Brighton’s early‑2000s scene resisted a single aesthetic. Rock groups emerged from rehearsal rooms and tiny clubs with wildly different looks and sounds, creating a cultural mosaic rather than a monolithic movement.Electrelane’s guitarist recalls recording their debut Rock It to the Moon in a studio once owned by the Levellers, and crafting their sophomore effort inside a former public toilet. These unconventional spaces proved surprisingly fertile, underscoring the city’s DIY spirit.By the turn of the millennium, the big‑beat dominance of Fatboy Slim and Skint Records had faded, making way for a grassroots rock surge. Sea Power relocated from Reading to Brighton, drawn by the city’s “dilapidated charm and fresh sea air”. Their self‑organized Club Sea Power nights at the Lift offered a chaotic yet liberating platform that eventually caught Rough Trade’s attention.Women played a pivotal role in shaping the scene’s infrastructure. Promoters Lisa Lout and Anna Moulson, both still active, booked seminal shows—including the Strokes’ first UK gig at the Lift in 2001—and helped launch the Great Escape festival. Their efforts ensured that bands such as the Pipettes, Electrelane and Bat for Lashes could share stages and media coverage.Artists recall the city’s palpable sense of belonging. Rose Dougall of the Pipettes describes a landscape where “alternative culture was on every street, from vintage shops to the colour of the houses,” and where “small venues made it feel attainable to launch a project.” Similarly, Brakes frontman Eamon Hamilton contrasts Brighton’s walk‑able, collaborative vibe with London’s darker, more competitive energy.Music journalism mirrored the scene’s intensity. Everett True and photographer Steve Gullick launched Careless Talk Costs Lives in 2002, a deliberately short‑run magazine that championed female writers and bands at a time when the industry was still heavily male‑dominated.As rents surged through the 2010s, many of the cheap flats, rehearsal rooms and iconic venues that underpinned the scene vanished. The Free Butt closed, independent record stores shuttered, and the once‑abundant low‑cost infrastructure dwindled, prompting a migration of creative energy down the coast to places like Margate, Ramsgate, Folkestone and Shoreham.Nevertheless, the remnants of Brighton’s network continue to nurture new talent, from the Kooks to Dream Wife and Gazelle Twin. The city’s strength lies not in a singular sound but in its capacity to host a “constant collision of wildly dissimilar bands,” allowing artists to develop authentically and fearlessly.