As a smooth-talking media and political pundit, Colman Domingo ’s Muncie Daniels is used to commenting on politics and the news — not becoming the news — in The Madness . However, his fate will quickly change for the worse when we meet him in the new series. When the CNN personality discovers the dead body of a white supremacist in the woods near where he’s staying in the Poconos, he winds up in the crosshairs of law enforcement and possibly framed for murder — and even his lawyer friend Kwesi (Deon Cole) warns the silver-tongued Muncie, “You’re not going to be able to talk your way out of this.... They are going to pin all this on you.” In this paranoia-inducing Netflix thriller, Daniels finds himself in the middle of a sprawling conspiracy that delves into the darkest corners of society and explores the intersections between the wealthy and powerful, the alt-right, and other fringe movements. “[The series] is examining the climate we’re in right now,” Domingo teased to TV Insider. “Who sows those seeds of disinformation? Who’s puppeteering all of this?” To clear his name, Muncie must figure out whether to trust FBI agent Franco Quiñones (John Ortiz) and reconnect with his working-class, activist roots in Philadelphia while reuniting with his family, which includes teenage son Demetrius (Thaddeus J. Mixson), estranged wife Elena (Marsha Stephanie Blake), and daughter Kallie (Gabrielle Graham) from a previous relationship. “He’s trying to solve a crime,” creator Stephen Belber previews, “but at the same time he’s trying to solve something inside of himself.” To find out what else we should know about the new thrill ride, we spoke to The Color Purple and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom star Colman Domingo — who played Victor Strand on Fear the Walking Dead for eight seasons, won an Emmy for Euphoria , and was nominated for a 2024 Oscar for the civil rights drama Rustin — about the bind in which Muncie finds himself in The Madness , the similarities he shares with the character, and the resonance of a story that speaks to our age of online disinformation and conspiracy theories. Why were you drawn to this series and this character? What about it made you say yes to it? Colman Domingo: There’s so much about it that is raising questions about who are we in America right now. What do you believe in? And what are you believing? What’s being fed to you? These are questions that I have deep in my heart, and the series is bringing out those thoughts I have in the back of my head. Like who is manipulating all of us? I do believe there’s people feeding the public misinformation, but it benefits people with money, power, and position. Are there similarities you share with Muncie? Wildly enough, he’s from my neighborhood, from West Philly. He’s a college professor. So am I. There’s a lot of similarities. He’s a public-facing person. Even some of his ideology, where he believes that if you just get people at the table to sit and have a civil conversation, things will get better. I do believe that. I actively do that in my life. And I thought, “Oh, I understand Muncie. I understand what he’s trying to do.” But then the series takes him on another journey to actually go more full-throttle and understand all the dynamics he’s been espousing but not really having to get in the mud with. Is Muncie’s journey in the series a metaphor for how we’re all trying to make sense of this firehose of facts and information, along with disinformation, conspiracy-mongering, and lies that are coming at us 24/7? Yeah. It’s your modern-day North By Northwest, your modern-day Three Days of the Condor. He’s an everyman who has to go on this journey that he’s not ready to go on. He didn’t even know he’s been preparing for it. He was just living his best life, has a great position at CNN, and has been studying jujitsu for his own health. But he didn’t know that he’d need all that to go down the rabbit hole for real. What’s Muncie’s relationship like with his estranged wife, son Demetrius, and his older daughter Kallie from another relationship? All of it is precarious. What’s going on between he and his wife, we made it a gray area. Maybe they both started out as young activists, and the other one moved into celebrity, and the other one is a college professor, and they’re just not meeting [each other] where they used to be. It was more about having a crisis of faith in each other. Then with his daughter [Kallie], he made choices when he was younger, in a relationship he was in before he went to an Ivy League school. So he’s sort of been a deadbeat dad in that way. Then with his younger son, he’s sort of an absentee father. He believes he’s doing the best that he can by providing financially and showing up when he can. But I think he’s been a bit selfish. So this whole crisis is helping him examine not only who he is, but who has he been—and not been—to his family. Now he’s got to do some relationship repair; at the same time, he’s trying to advocate and save his own life and protect his family. Has he lost himself a bit over the years in pursuit of success and ambition? I think so. But I think if you asked Muncie, he wouldn’t say that. I think he believed, no, it’s okay to change. It’s OK to have access and agency. But I think at some point he didn’t realize even in the position that he had, he was just all talk. He was just a talking head. He wasn’t actually doing anything but adding to the noise of the media circuit business. In the crisis that he goes through, how does his family help him to survive? I think he didn’t realize how much he needed them. When we meet him, he’s in a place of stasis. He’s been trying to write this book for years. So he decided to go to the Pocono mountains to try and start writing something. Then he goes on this journey. I think it’s a beautiful hero’s journey. He didn’t know he needed all these things. He didn’t know he needed a heart. He didn’t know he needed a brain...It is ‘no place like home.’ But he realized that his home was attached to other things like celebrity, clothing, and having access. But all of that became more superficial than he even imagined. Amanda Matlovich / Netflix Muncie was a housing activist in his youth, and he reconnects with his West Philly roots and the people in his life from that time. How does he change during the course of the series? I think it’s about helping him to bridge the two parts of himself. It’s one of the first arguments that my character has with the fantastic Eisa Davis, who plays Renee, while hosting a show on CNN. And it’s at the core of the problem. For me, it’s a question of, “What’s the best way?” He’s like, “I am Black and I don’t have to actually be out on the streets anymore. I have more access here on television where I can affect a lot of more people.” And so for me, it’s raising the question of, “Is that right or is that wrong? Or is there a balance of both?” How do race and systemic racism factor into the story of a Black man who gets blamed for the death of a white supremacist? How do you think that will be eye-opening for some viewers? Race plays into it a great deal. Muncie is someone who is probably very adept at code-switching [adjusting one’s style of speech, appearance, and expression to conform to a given community and reduce the potential for discrimination]. When you have celebrity and access, you live more in a bubble where you’re probably not perceived in certain ways. But when all of that goes away, once Muncie has to let go of his Range Rover, his Tom Ford suits, and his position at CNN, he’s perceived as just another ordinary Black man on the street. So even when he goes into that New York shop and changes into a T-shirt, baseball cap, and hoodie [to disguise himself], he’s trying to normalize. Before, he believed was a bit more elevated in some way. I love the question that [his estranged wife] Elena asked him: “What were you doing going over to this white man’s house out in the woods? You felt like you had the privilege to do that? You have to always be careful. You don’t know what’s on the other side. You’re a Black man in America.” He forgot for a moment. What does the title, The Madness , refer to? I think it’s about the madness that we’re all living in when it comes to the 24-hour news cycle and trying to download and sift through information. It’s maddening! And also, I think the madness is also internal, that internal struggle of like, “Who are you, and what do you believe in? Who is real, and who is not?” I think that’s the madness. The Madness , Series Premiere, Thursday, November 28, Netflix More Headlines:FOXBOROUGH, Mass. (AP) — The New England Patriots are focused on the future following their 25-24 loss to the Indianapolis Colts . The Patriots (3-10) were officially eliminated from playoff contention with the loss Sunday, meaning that this week’s bye in many ways will begin the process of the coaching staff and front office evaluating the roster for 2025. The good news is that this group has shown plenty of grit this season, playing seven games that were decided by one score. The bad news is that the Patriots are just 2-5 in those games. Though New England’s bye comes late in the season, coach Jerod Mayo said the timing is perfect for a team that is feeling the effects of its shortcomings . “A much-needed bye week, not only physically for the players but also mentally, just being able to hit the reset button and come back, put some good games together and continue to build for the future,” Mayo said. “That has to be our goal.” Tight end Austin Hooper said the seed that needs to be planted over the final four games is finding a way to limit the mistakes — namely penalties and trouble finishing drives — that have hampered the offense throughout the season. “We’ve got to execute at a higher level. We can’t beat a team before you stop hurting yourself,” Hooper said. “It’s not for lack of effort, just things that happen out there that get you scars in this league.” This was the most balanced performance by the offense this season, with 222 passing yards and a season-high 200 yards rushing. It shows progress under new coordinator Alex Van Pelt, which is something to build on over the final four games. Red zone efficiency. It continues to be the most glaring deficiency for the Patriots’ offense. They were 2 of 6 on Sunday and rank 30th in the NFL, scoring a touchdown only 44.7% (17 of 38) of the time inside the 20-yard line. TE Hunter Henry. He finished with seven catches for 75 yards, which is his seventh game this season with five or more receptions. He leads the team this season with 58 catches for 610 yards and continues to be a dependable option for quarterback Drake May as he navigates his rookie season. K Joey Slye. He made 3 of his 5 field-goal attempts, including a 54-yarder in the second quarter. Most of the conversation following the game was about his NFL record-long 68-yard attempt that came up short as time expired. But because of the 1-point loss, he was lamenting the 25-yard attempt he missed wide left just before halftime. “I take full responsibility for this,” Slye said. “Every point for this team matters with how we play complementary football with offense, defense and special teams. So, whenever I am out there, I have got to score points.” Henry left the game in the first quarter after a helmet-to-helmet hit. He was able to return in the second quarter and finished the game. 7 — Number of penalties called on the Patriots, costing them 88 yards. Five penalties (four accepted) were called on the offensive line. That included one for holding on Mike Onwenu that nullified a touchdown run by Rhamondre Stevenson in the first quarter and forced New England to settle for a field goal. The Patriots have a bye this week. They visit the Arizona Cardinals on Dec. 15. AP NFL coverage: https://apnews.com/hub/NFLMalaysian director Ho Yuhang (“Sanctuary”) and producer Lorna Tee (“Viet and Nam”) are presenting their crime thriller project “The Silent Village” (Aman/Damai) at the inaugural JAFF Market in Yogyakarta (Jogja), bringing a politically charged narrative inspired by one of Indonesia’s most notorious criminal cases. Ho and Tee previously worked together on “Mrs K.” The film follows a homicide detective investigating a murder in a tranquil village, where the discovery of a female body in a sugarcane field leads to connections with an unsolved human trafficking case from five years earlier. Set against the backdrop of mounting political pressure during an election season, the story draws parallels between local authority figures and historical patterns of power abuse in Southeast Asia. “If the peaceful village where the shaman lived and killed is a mirror of the nation, the story has naturally found a piercing metaphor at its core,” says Ho, referring to the 1997 case that inspired the project, where an Indonesian shaman was convicted of multiple murders over a decade-long period. The project, developed under Malaysia’s Paperheart banner, brings in Indonesian screenwriter Prima Rusdi (“Yuni”) to collaborate on the script. “We aim to look into the situation in Southeast Asia, outside of the urban centres, where leaders who are meant to protect and provide for the community, are often doing the opposite,” says Tee, addressing the film’s thematic focus. The producers acknowledge the current challenges of the Indonesian market, noting the need to differentiate their project in a landscape dominated by horror and comedy genres. They are actively seeking Indonesian co-producers, investors, and artistic collaborators during the market. “The Indonesian perspective and input is vital to secure at this early stage of development,” Tee adds, underscoring their commitment to authentic storytelling within the Indonesian context. The JAFF Market runs Dec. 3-5 alongside the Jogja-Netpac Asian Film Festival . “The Silent Village” is at the market’s Future Project platform.
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