Gen Digital, el grupo especializado en ciberseguridad con marcas como Norton, Avast, LifeLock, Avira, AVG, ReputationDefender y CCleaner, ha publicado su informe Gen Threat Report correspondiente al primer trimestre de 2025, mostrando los cambios má

Imagine: China deploys hundreds of thousands of autonomous drones in the air, on the sea, and under the water—all armed with explosive warheads or small missiles. These machines descend in a swarm toward military installations on Taiwan and nearby US bases, and over the course of a few hours, a single robotic blitzkrieg overwhelms the US Pacific force before it can even begin to fight back.  Maybe it sounds like a new Michael Bay movie, but it’s the scenario that keeps the chief technology officer of the US Army up at night. “I’m hesitant to say it out loud so I don’t manifest it,” says Alex Miller, a longtime Army intelligence official who became the CTO to the Army’s chief of staff in 2023. Even if World War III doesn’t break out in the South China Sea, every US military installation around the world is vulnerable to the same tactics—as are the militaries of every other country around the world. The proliferation of cheap drones means just about any group with the wherewithal to assemble and launch a swarm could wreak havoc, no expensive jets or massive missile installations required.  While the US has precision missiles that can shoot these drones down, they don’t always succeed: A drone attack killed three US soldiers and injured dozens more at a base in the Jordanian desert last year. And each American missile costs orders of magnitude more than its targets, which limits their supply; countering thousand-dollar drones with missiles that cost hundreds of thousands, or even millions, of dollars per shot can only work for so long, even with a defense budget that could reach a trillion dollars next year. The US armed forces are now hunting for a solution—and they want it fast. Every branch of the service and a host of defense tech startups are testing out new weapons that promise to disable drones en masse. There are drones that slam into other drones like battering rams; drones that shoot out nets to ensnare quadcopter propellers; precision-guided Gatling guns that simply shoot drones out of the sky; electronic approaches, like GPS jammers and direct hacking tools; and lasers that melt holes clear through a target’s side. Then there are the microwaves: high-powered electronic devices that push out kilowatts of power to zap the circuits of a drone as if it were the tinfoil you forgot to take off your leftovers when you heated them up.  That’s where Epirus comes in.  When I went to visit the HQ of this 185-person startup in Torrance, California, earlier this year, I got a behind-the-scenes look at its massive microwave, called Leonidas, which the US Army is already betting on as a cutting-edge anti-drone weapon. The Army awarded Epirus a $66 million contract in early 2023, topped that up with another $17 million last fall, and is currently deploying a handful of the systems for testing with US troops in the Middle East and the Pacific. (The Army won’t get into specifics on the location of the weapons in the Middle East but published a report of a live-fire test in the Philippines in early May.)  Up close, the Leonidas that Epirus built for the Army looks like a two-foot-thick slab of metal the size of a garage door stuck on a swivel mount. Pop the back cover, and you can see that the slab is filled with dozens of individual microwave amplifier units in a grid. Each is about the size of a safe-deposit box and built around a chip made of gallium nitride, a semiconductor that can survive much higher voltages and temperatures than the typical silicon.  Leonidas sits on top of a trailer that a standard-issue Army truck can tow, and when it is powered on, the company’s software tells the grid of amps and antennas to shape the electromagnetic waves they’re blasting out with a phased array, precisely overlapping the microwave signals to mold the energy into a focused beam. Instead of needing to physically point a gun or parabolic dish at each of a thousand incoming drones, the Leonidas can flick between them at the speed of software. The Leonidas contains dozens of microwave amplifier units and can pivot to direct waves at incoming swarms of drones.EPIRUS Of course, this isn’t magic—there are practical limits on how much damage one array can do, and at what range—but the total effect could be described as an electromagnetic pulse emitter, a death ray for electronics, or a force field that could set up a protective barrier around military installations and drop drones the way a bug zapper fizzles a mob of mosquitoes. I walked through the nonclassified sections of the Leonidas factory floor, where a cluster of engineers working on weaponeering—the military term for figuring out exactly how much of a weapon, be it high explosive or microwave beam, is necessary to achieve a desired effect—ran tests in a warren of smaller anechoic rooms. Inside, they shot individual microwave units at a broad range of commercial and military drones, cycling through waveforms and power levels to try to find the signal that could fry each one with maximum efficiency.  On a live video feed from inside one of these foam-padded rooms, I watched a quadcopter drone spin its propellers and then, once the microwave emitter turned on, instantly stop short—first the propeller on the front left and then the rest. A drone hit with a Leonidas beam doesn’t explode—it just falls. Compared with the blast of a missile or the sizzle of a laser, it doesn’t look like much. But it could force enemies to come up with costlier ways of attacking that reduce the advantage of the drone swarm, and it could get around the inherent limitations of purely electronic or strictly physical defense systems. It could save lives. Epirus CEO Andy Lowery, a tall guy with sparkplug energy and a rapid-fire southern Illinois twang, doesn’t shy away from talking big about his product. As he told me during my visit, Leonidas is intended to lead a last stand, like the Spartan from whom the microwave takes its name—in this case, against hordes of unmanned aerial vehicles, or UAVs. While the actual range of the Leonidas system is kept secret, Lowery says the Army is looking for a solution that can reliably stop drones within a few kilometers. He told me, “They would like our system to be the owner of that final layer—to get any squeakers, any leakers, anything like that.” Now that they’ve told the world they “invented a force field,” Lowery added, the focus is on manufacturing at scale—before the drone swarms really start to descend or a nation with a major military decides to launch a new war. Before, in other words, Miller’s nightmare scenario becomes reality.  Why zap? Miller remembers well when the danger of small weaponized drones first appeared on his radar. Reports of Islamic State fighters strapping grenades to the bottom of commercial DJI Phantom quadcopters first emerged in late 2016 during the Battle of Mosul. “I went, ‘Oh, this is going to be bad,’ because basically it’s an airborne IED at that point,” he says. He’s tracked the danger as it’s built steadily since then, with advances in machine vision, AI coordination software, and suicide drone tactics only accelerating.  Then the war in Ukraine showed the world that cheap technology has fundamentally changed how warfare happens. We have watched in high-definition video how a cheap, off-the-shelf drone modified to carry a small bomb can be piloted directly into a faraway truck, tank, or group of troops to devastating effect. And larger suicide drones, also known as “loitering munitions,” can be produced for just tens of thousands of dollars and launched in massive salvos to hit soft targets or overwhelm more advanced military defenses through sheer numbers.  As a result, Miller, along with large swaths of the Pentagon and DC policy circles, believes that the current US arsenal for defending against these weapons is just too expensive and the tools in too short supply to truly match the threat. Just look at Yemen, a poor country where the Houthi military group has been under constant attack for the past decade. Armed with this new low-tech arsenal, in the past 18 months the rebel group has been able to bomb cargo ships and effectively disrupt global shipping in the Red Sea—part of an effort to apply pressure on Israel to stop its war in Gaza. The Houthis have also used missiles, suicide drones, and even drone boats to launch powerful attacks on US Navy ships sent to stop them. The most successful defense tech firm selling anti-drone weapons to the US military right now is Anduril, the company started by Palmer Luckey, the inventor of the Oculus VR headset, and a crew of cofounders from Oculus and defense data giant Palantir. In just the past few months, the Marines have chosen Anduril for counter-drone contracts that could be worth nearly $850 million over the next decade, and the company has been working with Special Operations Command since 2022 on a counter-drone contract that could be worth nearly a billion dollars over a similar time frame. It’s unclear from the contracts what, exactly, Anduril is selling to each organization, but its weapons include electronic warfare jammers, jet-powered drone bombs, and propeller-driven Anvil drones designed to simply smash into enemy drones. In this arsenal, the cheapest way to stop a swarm of drones is electronic warfare: jamming the GPS or radio signals used to pilot the machines. But the intense drone battles in Ukraine have advanced the art of jamming and counter-jamming close to the point of stalemate. As a result, a new state of the art is emerging: unjammable drones that operate autonomously by using onboard processors to navigate via internal maps and computer vision, or even drones connected with 20-kilometer-long filaments of fiber-optic cable for tethered control. But unjammable doesn’t mean unzappable. Instead of using the scrambling method of a jammer, which employs an antenna to block the drone’s connection to a pilot or remote guidance system, the Leonidas microwave beam hits a drone body broadside. The energy finds its way into something electrical, whether the central flight controller or a tiny wire controlling a flap on a wing, to short-circuit whatever’s available. (The company also says that this targeted hit of energy allows birds and other wildlife to continue to move safely.) Tyler Miller, a senior systems engineer on Epirus’s weaponeering team, told me that they never know exactly which part of the target drone is going to go down first, but they’ve reliably seen the microwave signal get in somewhere to overload a circuit. “Based on the geometry and the way the wires are laid out,” he said, one of those wires is going to be the best path in. “Sometimes if we rotate the drone 90 degrees, you have a different motor go down first,” he added. The team has even tried wrapping target drones in copper tape, which would theoretically provide shielding, only to find that the microwave still finds a way in through moving propeller shafts or antennas that need to remain exposed for the drone to fly.  EPIRUS Leonidas also has an edge when it comes to downing a mass of drones at once. Physically hitting a drone out of the sky or lighting it up with a laser can be effective in situations where electronic warfare fails, but anti-drone drones can only take out one at a time, and lasers need to precisely aim and shoot. Epirus’s microwaves can damage everything in a roughly 60-degree arc from the Leonidas emitter simultaneously and keep on zapping and zapping; directed energy systems like this one never run out of ammo. As for cost, each Army Leonidas unit currently runs in the “low eight figures,” Lowery told me. Defense contract pricing can be opaque, but Epirus delivered four units for its $66 million initial contract, giving a back-of-napkin price around $16.5 million each. For comparison, Stinger missiles from Raytheon, which soldiers shoot at enemy aircraft or drones from a shoulder-mounted launcher, cost hundreds of thousands of dollars a pop, meaning the Leonidas could start costing less (and keep shooting) after it downs the first wave of a swarm. Raytheon’s radar, reversed Epirus is part of a new wave of venture-capital-backed defense companies trying to change the way weapons are created—and the way the Pentagon buys them. The largest defense companies, firms like Raytheon, Boeing, Northrop Grumman, and Lockheed Martin, typically develop new weapons in response to research grants and cost-plus contracts, in which the US Department of Defense guarantees a certain profit margin to firms building products that match their laundry list of technical specifications. These programs have kept the military supplied with cutting-edge weapons for decades, but the results may be exquisite pieces of military machinery delivered years late and billions of dollars over budget. Rather than building to minutely detailed specs, the new crop of military contractors aim to produce products on a quick time frame to solve a problem and then fine-tune them as they pitch to the military. The model, pioneered by Palantir and SpaceX, has since propelled companies like Anduril, Shield AI, and dozens of other smaller startups into the business of war as venture capital piles tens of billions of dollars into defense. Like Anduril, Epirus has direct Palantir roots; it was cofounded by Joe Lonsdale, who also cofounded Palantir, and John Tenet, Lonsdale’s colleague at the time at his venture fund, 8VC. (Tenet, the son of former CIA director George Tenet, may have inspired the company’s name—the elder Tenet’s parents were born in the Epirus region in the northwest of Greece. But the company more often says it’s a reference to the pseudo-mythological Epirus Bow from the 2011 fantasy action movie Immortals, which never runs out of arrows.)  While Epirus is doing business in the new mode, its roots are in the old—specifically in Raytheon, a pioneer in the field of microwave technology. Cofounded by MIT professor Vannevar Bush in 1922, it manufactured vacuum tubes, like those found in old radios. But the company became synonymous with electronic defense during World War II, when Bush spun up a lab to develop early microwave radar technology invented by the British into a workable product, and Raytheon then began mass-producing microwave tubes—known as magnetrons—for the US war effort. By the end of the war in 1945, Raytheon was making 80% of the magnetrons powering Allied radar across the world. From padded foam chambers at the Epirus HQ, Leonidas devices can be safely tested on drones.EPIRUS Large tubes remained the best way to emit high-power microwaves for more than half a century, handily outperforming silicon-based solid-state amplifiers. They’re still around—the microwave on your kitchen counter runs on a vacuum tube magnetron. But tubes have downsides: They’re hot, they’re big, and they require upkeep. (In fact, the other microwave drone zapper currently in the Pentagon pipeline, the Tactical High-power Operational Responder, or THOR, still relies on a physical vacuum tube. It’s reported to be effective at downing drones in tests but takes up a whole shipping container and needs a dish antenna to zap its targets.) By the 2000s, new methods of building solid-state amplifiers out of materials like gallium nitride started to mature and were able to handle more power than silicon without melting or shorting out. The US Navy spent hundreds of millions of dollars on cutting-edge microwave contracts, one for a project at Raytheon called Next Generation Jammer—geared specifically toward designing a new way to make high-powered microwaves that work at extremely long distances. Lowery, the Epirus CEO, began his career working on nuclear reactors on Navy aircraft carriers before he became the chief engineer for Next Generation Jammer at Raytheon in 2010. There, he and his team worked on a system that relied on many of the same fundamentals that now power the Leonidas—using the same type of amplifier material and antenna setup to fry the electronics of a small target at much closer range rather than disrupting the radar of a target hundreds of miles away.  The similarity is not a coincidence: Two engineers from Next Generation Jammer helped launch Epirus in 2018. Lowery—who by then was working at the augmented-reality startup RealWear, which makes industrial smart glasses—joined Epirus in 2021 to run product development and was asked to take the top spot as CEO in 2023, as Leonidas became a fully formed machine. Much of the founding team has since departed for other projects, but Raytheon still runs through the company’s collective CV: ex-Raytheon radar engineer Matt Markel started in January as the new CTO, and Epirus’s chief engineer for defense, its VP of engineering, its VP of operations, and a number of employees all have Raytheon roots as well. Markel tells me that the Epirus way of working wouldn’t have flown at one of the big defense contractors: “They never would have tried spinning off the technology into a new application without a contract lined up.” The Epirus engineers saw the use case, raised money to start building Leonidas, and already had prototypes in the works before any military branch started awarding money to work on the project. Waiting for the starting gun On the wall of Lowery’s office are two mementos from testing days at an Army proving ground: a trophy wing from a larger drone, signed by the whole testing team, and a framed photo documenting the Leonidas’s carnage—a stack of dozens of inoperative drones piled up in a heap.  Despite what seems to have been an impressive test show, it’s still impossible from the outside to determine whether Epirus’s tech is ready to fully deliver if the swarms descend.  The Army would not comment specifically on the efficacy of any new weapons in testing or early deployment, including the Leonidas system. A spokesperson for the Army’s Rapid Capabilities and Critical Technologies Office, or RCCTO, which is the subsection responsible for contracting with Epirus to date, would only say in a statement that it is “committed to developing and fielding innovative Directed Energy solutions to address evolving threats.”  But various high-ranking officers appear to be giving Epirus a public vote of confidence. The three-star general who runs RCCTO and oversaw the Leonidas testing last summer told Breaking Defense that “the system actually worked very well,” even if there was work to be done on “how the weapon system fits into the larger kill chain.” And when former secretary of the Army Christine Wormuth, then the service’s highest-ranking civilian, gave a parting interview this past January, she mentioned Epirus in all but name, citing “one company” that is “using high-powered microwaves to basically be able to kill swarms of drones.” She called that kind of capability “critical for the Army.”  The Army isn’t the only branch interested in the microwave weapon. On Epirus’s factory floor when I visited, alongside the big beige Leonidases commissioned by the Army, engineers were building a smaller expeditionary version for the Marines, painted green, which it delivered in late April. Videos show that when it put some of its microwave emitters on a dock and tested them out for the Navy last summer, the microwaves left their targets dead in the water—successfully frying the circuits of outboard motors like the ones propelling Houthi drone boats.  Epirus is also currently working on an even smaller version of the Leonidas that can mount on top of the Army’s Stryker combat vehicles, and it’s testing out attaching a single microwave unit to a small airborne drone, which could work as a highly focused zapper to disable cars, data centers, or single enemy drones.  Epirus’s microwave technology is also being tested in devices smaller than the traditional Leonidas. EPIRUS While neither the Army nor the Navy has yet to announce a contract to start buying Epirus’s systems at scale, the company and its investors are actively preparing for the big orders to start rolling in. It raised $250 million in a funding round in early March to get ready to make as many Leonidases as possible in the coming years, adding to the more than $300 million it’s raised since opening its doors in 2018. “If you invent a force field that works,” Lowery boasts, “you really get a lot of attention.” The task for Epirus now, assuming that its main customers pull the trigger and start buying more Leonidases, is ramping up production while advancing the tech in its systems. Then there are the more prosaic problems of staffing, assembly, and testing at scale. For future generations, Lowery told me, the goal is refining the antenna design and integrating higher-powered microwave amplifiers to push the output into the tens of kilowatts, allowing for increased range and efficacy.  While this could be made harder by Trump’s global trade war, Lowery says he’s not worried about their supply chain; while China produces 98% of the world’s gallium, according to the US Geological Survey, and has choked off exports to the US, Epirus’s chip supplier uses recycled gallium from Japan.  The other outside challenge may be that Epirus isn’t the only company building a drone zapper. One of China’s state-owned defense companies has been working on its own anti-drone high-powered microwave weapon called the Hurricane, which it displayed at a major military show in late 2024.  It may be a sign that anti-electronics force fields will become common among the world’s militaries—and if so, the future of war is unlikely to go back to the status quo ante, and it might zag in a different direction yet again. But military planners believe it’s crucial for the US not to be left behind. So if it works as promised, Epirus could very well change the way that war will play out in the coming decade.  While Miller, the Army CTO, can’t speak directly to Epirus or any specific system, he will say that he believes anti-drone measures are going to have to become ubiquitous for US soldiers. “Counter-UAS [Unmanned Aircraft System] unfortunately is going to be like counter-IED,” he says. “It’s going to be every soldier’s job to think about UAS threats the same way it was to think about IEDs.”  And, he adds, it’s his job and his colleagues’ to make sure that tech so effective it works like “almost magic” is in the hands of the average rifleman. To that end, Lowery told me, Epirus is designing the Leonidas control system to work simply for troops, allowing them to identify a cluster of targets and start zapping with just a click of a button—but only extensive use in the field can prove that out. Epirus CEO Andy Lowery sees the Leonidas as providing a last line of defense against UAVs.EPIRUS In the not-too-distant future, Lowery says, this could mean setting up along the US-Mexico border. But the grandest vision for Epirus’s tech that he says he’s heard is for a city-scale Leonidas along the lines of a ballistic missile defense radar system called PAVE PAWS, which takes up an entire 105-foot-tall building and can detect distant nuclear missile launches. The US set up four in the 1980s, and Taiwan currently has one up on a mountain south of Taipei. Fill a similar-size building full of microwave emitters, and the beam could reach out “10 or 15 miles,” Lowery told me, with one sitting sentinel over Taipei in the north and another over Kaohsiung in the south of Taiwan. Riffing in Greek mythological mode, Lowery said of drones, “I call all these mischief makers. Whether they’re doing drugs or guns across the border or they’re flying over Langley [or] they’re spying on F-35s, they’re all like Icarus. You remember Icarus, with his wax wings? Flying all around—‘Nobody’s going to touch me, nobody’s going to ever hurt me.’” “We built one hell of a wax-wing melter.”  Sam Dean is a reporter focusing on business, tech, and defense. He is writing a book about the recent history of Silicon Valley returning to work with the Pentagon for Viking Press and covering the defense tech industry for a number of publications. Previously, he was a business reporter at the Los Angeles Times. This piece has been updated to clarify that Alex Miller is a civilian intelligence official. 

Even at first glance, there’s something off about the body on the street. The white sheet it’s under is a little too clean, and the officers’ movements are totally devoid of purpose. “We need to clear the street,” one of them says with a firm hand gesture, though her lips don’t move. It’s AI, alright. But here’s the kicker: my prompt didn’t include any dialogue.Veo 3, Google’s new AI video generation model, added that line all on its own. Over the past 24 hours I’ve created a dozen clips depicting news reports, disasters, and goofy cartoon cats with convincing audio — some of which the model invented all on its own. It’s more than a little creepy and way more sophisticated than I had imagined. And while I don’t think it’s going to propel us to a misinformation doomsday just yet, Veo 3 strikes me as an absolute AI slop machine.AI generated video: Made with Veo 3Google introduced Veo 3 at I/O this week, highlighting its most important new capability: generating sound to go with your AI video. “We’re entering a new era of creation,” Google’s VP of Gemini, Josh Woodward, explained in the keynote, calling it “incredibly realistic.” I wasn’t completely sold, but then, a few days later, I had Veo 3 generate a video of a news anchor announcing a fire at the Space Needle. All it took was a basic text prompt, a few minutes, and an expensive subscription to Google’s AI Ultra plan. And you know what? Woodward wasn’t exaggerating. It’s realistic as hell.I tried the news anchor prompt after seeing what Alejandra Caraballo, a clinical instructor at Harvard Law School’s Cyberlaw Clinic, was able to produce. One of her clips features a news anchor announcing the death of US Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth. He is not dead, but the clip is incredibly convincing. A post including a string of videos with AI-generated characters protesting the prompts used to create them has 50,000 upvotes on Reddit. The scenes include disasters, a woman in a hospital bed using a breathing tube, and a character being threatened at gunpoint — all with spoken dialogue and realistic background sounds. Real lighthearted stuff!Maybe I’m being naive, but after playing around with Veo 3 I’m not quite as concerned as I was at first. For starters, the obvious guardrails are in place. You can’t prompt it to create a video of Biden tripping and falling. You can’t have a news anchor announce the assassination of the president, or even generate a video of a T-shirt-and-chain-wearing tech company CEO laughing while dollar bills rain down around him. That’s a start.That said, you can generate some troubling shit. Without any clever workarounds I prompted Veo 3 to create a video of the Space Needle on fire. Starting with my own photo of Mount Rainier, I generated a video of it erupting with smoke and lava. Coupled with a clip of a news anchor announcing said disaster, I can see how you could seed some mischief real easily with this tool.AI generated video: Made with Veo 3Here’s the better news: it doesn’t seem like a ready-made deepfake machine. I gave it a couple of photos of myself and asked it to generate a video with specific dialogue and it wouldn’t comply. I also asked it to bring a pair of giant boots in a photo to life and have them walk out of the scene; it managed one boot stomping across the sidewalk with some comical crunching noises in the background.AI generated video: Made with Veo 3I had an easier time generating videos when my prompts were less specific, which is how I confirmed something my colleague Andrew Marino pointed out: Veo 3 is excellent at creating the kind of lowest-common-denominator YouTube content aimed at kids.If you’ve never been subjected to the endless pit of garbage on YouTube Kids, let me enlighten you. Imagine watching the worst 3D rendering of a monster truck driving down a ramp, landing in a vat of colored paint. Next to it, another monster truck drives down another ramp into another vat of paint — this time, a different color. Now watch that again. And again. And again. There are hours of this stuff on YouTube designed to mesmerize toddlers. These videos are usually harmless, just empty calories designed to rack up views that make Cocomelon look like Citizen Kane. In about 10 minutes with Veo 3, I threw together a clip following the same basic formula — complete with jaunty background music. But the clip that’s even more troubling to me is the two cartoon cats on a pier.AI generated video: Made with Veo 3I thought it would be funny to have the cats complain to each other that the fish aren’t biting. In just a couple of minutes, I had a clip complete with two cats and some AI-generated dialogue that I never wrote. If it’s this easy to make a 10-second clip, stretching it out to a seven-minute YouTube video would be trivial. In its current form, clips revert to Veo 2 when you try to extend them into longer scenes, which removes the audio. But the way that Google has been pushing these tools forward relentlessly, I can’t imagine it’ll be long before you can edit a full feature-length video with Veo 3.Honestly, I wonder if this sort of use for AI-generated video is a feature and not a bug. Google showed us some fancy AI-generated video from real filmmakers, including Eliza McNitt, who is working with Darren Aronofsky on a new film with some AI-generated elements. And sure, AI video could be an interesting tool in the right hands. But I think what we’re most likely to see is a proliferation of the kind of bland imagery that AI is so good at generating — this time, in stereo.See More:

MOUNTAIN VIEW, Calif.—Google Beam does something uncanny to a 65-inch display: It transforms it into a strange sort of window through which the person to whom you’re speaking appears not as a two-dimensional pack of pixels but as a 3D, holographic image floating in front of the display.Google first showed off what was then called Project Starline at I/O 2021, itself staged as a virtual event due to the pandemic. Almost three years after starting tests with such firms as T-Mobile and Salesforce, the company is now ready to commercialize this technology. Last year, Google announced that HP would bring the first Beam system to market, a partnership CEO Sundar Pichai touted in I/O's two-hour keynote this week. On Wednesday afternoon, I got to take a look at prototype hardware in a booth at the show. The six cameras around a large screen sets Beam apart from typical video conferencing. (Google didn't allow photos.) But then I connected to a Google product manager sitting in front of another Beam setup elsewhere on its campus, and it was as if he had just sat down across the table. Or as if the screen had inflated to a sphere with him at its most forward part.Google accomplishes this by using what it calls a “state-of-the-art AI volumetric video model” to fuse the input from those six cameras into output shown on that light-field screen. That extremely high-resolution display technology shows slightly different images to each eye that create a 3D effect without your having to strap on the kind of glasses required for 3D TVs.Light field isn’t a new concept; the startup Lytro tried to commercialize the technology in its cameras starting in 2012, and firms such as San Jose-based Light Field Lab are working on their own display implementations of it. But Google and HP bring much deeper pockets and corporate customers with the budgets that might accommodate what must be an expensive rig.(Google’s I/O post about Beam says HP will reveal more details at the InfoComm trade show in Orlando next month. Google suggests Beam will need at least 30Mbps of bandwidth, which is less than I would have guessed.)Recommended by Our EditorsBeam will not be a Google-only product, supporting Zoom as well as Google Meet; the latter will include the near-real-time language translation that Google showed off at I/O.Despite a presumably massive amount of computation and bandwidth needed, the audio and video stayed in sync throughout this roughly five-minute session. (“Call” seems inadequate to describe the experience.) But I also noticed some glitches around the edges of my interlocutor’s appearance.For example, when he picked up a green apple, a part of a Starline demo we took in at last year’s I/O, parts of his fingers shimmered around it and the spaces between the apple and his hand blurred. Then I noticed a small green shimmer on his neck that roughly matched where the fruit’s shiny surface could have been reflected on his skin. Beam also seems sensitive to your own placement between its cameras, which can allow for some in-call mischief. Leaning too far to one side or the other yielded an onscreen alert to center myself, a reminder that this is built for chats between individual people. And reaching one arm too far to one side or the other results in your hand appearing to be cut off, with only the virtual background behind where that appendage should have been.And if you reach behind you, you will appear and pierce that wall with your hand. Beam supports virtual backgrounds, although the one for this call was the most boring kind of flat gray possible.The whole effect, however, was realistic enough that a handshake seemed in order instead of the now-traditional Zoom wave. We could not do that, but we could do the closest approximation of a high-five that I’ve ever seen possible on a video call.

With Nintendo Switch 2 offering upgrades to some games for the original console, here are the titles we can't wait to check out on the new hardware, from Pokemon to ZeldaTech15:47, 21 May 2025Updated 15:50, 21 May 2025Xenoblade Chronicles X Definitive Edition is one of Switch's best-looking titlesAs we covered in our rundown of the best Nintendo Switch games, we understand that the Switch 2 will be a massive upgrade, but we're still a little sad about leaving the original console behind.Thankfully, our software libraries aren't going anywhere, and as we now know, many games will see free improvements on the new hardware.‌While some upgrades will be expensive, those are typically the ones offering additional content that make the games worth revisiting, and we've put together a list of the Switch 1 games we can't wait to check out on the new console when it launches in a couple of weeks.‌Kirby is back with new Switch 2 content(Image: Nintendo)One of the paid 'Upgrade Packs' Nintendo has been showing off (alongside Super Mario Party Jamboree), Kirby and the Forgotten Land was a delightful platformer when it launched in 2022, but one common complaint was that it was a tad too easy.While we don't yet know if the Star-Crossed World content from the Switch 2 version will ramp up the challenge, we're just happy to have more to do in the game's colourful world, and to find out what mischief Kirby can get up to this time around.Article continues belowIt'll cost you under a tenner to upgrade Breath of the Wild for Switch 2(Image: Nintendo)You can also add Tears of the Kingdom to this list, but Breath of the Wild was the quintessential Switch game for many. In fact, there's an argument to be made that many may have skipped the console (at least in its earliest months) had it not been for Link's adventure being dubbed one of the greatest games of all time.The upgrade pack will set you back £7.99, but it's also included in Nintendo Switch Online memberships which is handy. Switch 2 brings with it an improved resolution and frame rates, as well as HDR support, meaning Breath of the Wild should look (and run) better than ever.‌Scarlet and Violet disappointed at launch because of performance issues(Image: The Pokemon Company)Scarlet and Violet could be cracking entries in the long-running Pokemon RPG series, but technical issues certainly dampened the excitement of their open world and nonlinear structure.Thankfully, the upgrade for the Switch 2 is free, so you can jump back into Paldea and catch 'em all. In fact, Nintendo says the game is now optimised for "improved image quality", and the frame rate is improved which was one of our biggest issues with the original version.‌Bowser's Fury is a fun, if short, adventureFeeling almost like the first Switch and Upgrade Pack game we saw, Super Mario 3D World is a cracking port of a classic, while Bowser's Fury is an open-world adventure worth the price of admission alone.Switch 2 will offer improved frame rates across both titles, and improve the image quality, meaning they'll never look better. In fact, we're a little jealous if you haven't played either because there's never been a better time.‌It's high time we got another 3D Mario titleAnother listicle, another Super Mario Odyssey mention, but this really is one of the best games on Switch 1 and it's getting free upgrades on Nintendo's new hardware.Nintendo says the patch will add HDR support, and the resolution will be improved, while GameShare will mean you can play in co-op on two consoles with a single copy of the game, with one player taking the role of Cappy.‌We'll take any excuse to revisit this 2017 classic.Xenoblade Chronicles X is an impressive technical achievement on Switch 1The most recent game on this list (or at least this version is), Xenoblade Chronicles X feels like the pinnacle of visuals on Switch 1, but the game's code suggests there's a 60FPS option available somehow.Article continues belowNintendo hasn't said anything, but if the game can run at double its normal frame rate, we'll happily jump right back in.For the latest breaking news and stories from across the globe from the Daily Star, sign up for our newsletters.‌‌‌

Whichever way you cut it, mix it or remaster it, the Eurovision Song Contest is a deeply weird thing. Not weird in the sense of outlandish outfits, incomprehensible lyrics or fever-dream choreography (although that’s all there if you want it). Nor weird in the sense that a 69-year-old pan-European singing competition has become one of the few remaining water cooler events that pull people outside of their own bubbles and into a shared frame of reference.. But weird on a more fundamental level. An event, and a brand, that is unbelievably hard to pin down. On the one hand, it’s the Euros for people who don’t like football – big, bombastic, slick, chock-full of mini flag icons and low-level national biases. And on the other, it’s this gloriously bizarre exercise in high camp, a joyful gathering of relatively unknown musical acts in such a way that makes the music almost an afterthought. Basically, an excuse for one big, mad, everyone’s-welcome party. In an era where every European country has long-established talent shows; when the music industry is dominated by a handful of transnational mega-stars; when even the notion of “Europe” is itself under strain, it’s hard to understand quite why it still exists. Never mind that it reaches a global audience of 163 million. Its genius lies in how seriously it takes itself. And perhaps it offers a little insight into a much overlooked aspect of brand identity – self-perception. Make no mistake, Eurovision is a serious brand. From visual identity to marketing to international television rights to the experience itself, it’s very aware of the power it wields. It’s the world’s biggest live music event for a reason. But crucially, Eurovision is a brand that feels in on the game it’s playing. It comes brilliantly close to acknowledging how preposterous the whole thing is. Whether that’s including Australia, for the simple fact that it’s really popular 9,000 miles from Europe, or whether it’s the brooding figure of executive supervisor Martin Österdahl, smouldering and saying nothing as he helps count votes. Even the presenters (both on-stage and on our screens) feel in on the joke. Always seemingly one step away from breaking out into an unrecoverable fit of giggles. “Crucially, Eurovision is a brand that feels in on the game it’s playing.” This is exceptional, serious branding. It’s branding that creates just enough space to offer a wry wink at its audience. To say, “We get it. In the grand scheme of things, none of this truly matters, but you might as well enjoy it.” It’s a glint of mischief that simultaneously acknowledges that it’s a confection being broadcast to an audience of consumers, while drawing that same audience sincerely closer, warmer to the brand than before.Eurovision might be an extreme example, but great brands are masters at the glint of mischief. IKEA famously talks about their “twinkle in the eye” – a little dose of irreverence that manages to make the proposition of affordable, self-assembly furniture and aspirational style hold together against the odds. As a consumer, you can’t help but like them, even when the category conventions are pushing you to think the opposite. Method have harnessed the glint through packaging design. Just no-frills and minimalist enough to winkingly call bullshit on the garish, overhyped claims of the cleaning products category; never quite no-frills or minimalist enough to become either a self-parody or budget bleach. Even Ryanair, with its unrepentant take on budget customer service, employs the glint of mischief to make people dislike them that little bit less. How a brand views itself translates to how others view it. And if you view yourself with genuine self-awareness – you understand, however implicitly, that you are a brand, built to sell help sell things, and not a pioneering force for positive change, a cultural disruptor, or an essential part of a lifestyle identity – you can connect with an audience who themselves know, deep down, they are being sold to. A glint of mischief, a twinkle in the eye, a little touch of human self-awareness in a world of extreme creative and strategic self-seriousness. Eurovision gets this better than anyone – perhaps the most serious practitioners in the art of unseriousness out there. For a continent that feels deathly serious most of the time – economically, politically, socially – it might just offer a little dose of genuine mischief we can all relate to. Josh Dickins is head of consulting at Modern Citizens, a modular agency built to solve modern brand problems.

The TikTok "Chromebook challenge" encourages kids to ruin their laptops. Thomas Koehler/Photothek via Getty Images 2025-05-16T16:25:11Z Save Saved Read in app This story is available exclusively to Business Insider subscribers. Become an Insider and start reading now. Have an account? The "Chromebook challenge" is a TikTok trend in which kids jam a paperclip into a laptop to make it smoke. Several kids are facing charges for messing with their Chromebooks. Take it from me, kids. Don't do it. *Grabs chair, spins it around, and sits on it backward.*Hey teens, it's me. Your friendly local 44-year-old tech blogger at Business Insider, every high schooler's favorite website. And I'm here to say: setting your Chromebook on fire is "skibidi Ohio." Don't do it.Sure, there's a viral TikTok challenge going around that encourages kids like you to jam a paperclip, gum wrapper, or other item into the USB drive of your school-issued Chromebooks, which will cause them to start smoking, shoot sparks, or even catch on fire.But don't do it.Even though you may be bored, and lighting stuff on fire is undeniably cool-looking, and it's almost summer break, and your teacher has negative aura, and Chromebooks represent the tyranny of the prison called "school" where they indoctrinate your mind with algebra and facts about the Treaty of Ghent that you will never need in real life because there's calculators, and Prussia isn't real, and there's ChatGPT anyway that can do this all for you, and adults will all be using it in the future, it's still not worth it. [Note: No AI was used to write this important public service message.]So please, do not light your Chromebook on fire — it can cause serious injury. This is a rizzles and sus road you don't want to go down. There is no sigma here.TikTok has taken some action. Searching "Chromebook challenge" on the app generates a warning message saying "some online challenges can be dangerous, disturbing, or even fabricated." (Though searching Chromebook still generates plenty of videos of smoking Acers.) TikTok did not immediately respond to a request for comment.You're a teen, you know how silly grown-ups are about this stuff. We're always yapping about some moral panic "challenge" on TikTok that's not even real. But this time? No cap, it's real.Kids are facing charges in several states for messing with their Chromebooks. A 13-year-old was arrested on suspicion of arson in Long Beach, California, and students at schools in Arizona face possible criminal charges, according to the Bullhead City Fire Department. Two teens in Southington, Connecticut, are facing misdemeanor charges including criminal mischief and reckless endangerment.Fellow kids, I understand that you're currently living in a time where you might feel under the yoke of technology. You feel complicated about how much you use social media, and meanwhile your parents read "The Anxious Generation" and are now freaking out because they regret giving you a phone in sixth grade, even though that phone has had Life 360 survellience software installed this whole time. You know that the future of work involves AI, but your teachers get weird and mad about you using it for homework (even though literally everyone does). And this whole time you're supposed to be getting good grades to go to college, but the institution of higher education is under attack and kids are getting arrested on campus for protesting, and you're taking on a lifetime of debt for some degree for a job that could be replaced by a chatbot in five years anyway. So like the Luddite cloth workers of the Industrial Revolution, you take a stand and fight and break against the machine that yokes you. Why not just jam a paperclip in that Chromebook just to see if something real happens, something tangible, like smoke or fire, just to remember that you're here, you're alive, you're young, you exist?But kids, harming laptops isn't cool. So please, don't do the Chromebook challenge. Recommended video

Oh it’s fun to have good news! The latest set from the Pokémon TCG, Scarlet & Violet Destined Rivals, is a top-notch collection of cards bursting with Team Rocket antics, which sports (in my limited experience, at least) pull rates I don’t believe we’ve seen in this era. Having torn open 55 packs, I have a generous spread of rares and ex cards the likes of which I’ve not seen since S&V began. Also, unlike the awful previous set Journey Together, it’s an excellent collection of Trainer Pokémon to really charge up the live game.Suggested ReadingWhat’s Coming Out Beyond Pokémon: The Indigo Disk | The Week In Games Share SubtitlesOffEnglishview videoSuggested ReadingWhat’s Coming Out Beyond Pokémon: The Indigo Disk | The Week In Games Share SubtitlesOffEnglishYou know, if you can buy it.While it’s delightful to report that The Pokémon Company has really knocked it out of the park with Destined Rivals, unfortunately this hasn’t coincided with addressing the wild shortages of cards for regular customers. It’s a problem that only just repeated itself with last week’s website-crashing launch of the next sets, White Fire and Black Bolt—the first ever split-set English-language collection—that looks likely to be as impossible to buy as just about everything else this year. Or, if you do, you’ll be paying way over MSRP to scalpers, and please don’t do that.However, smart players will know that the best way to get cards for any set is to attend a pre-release event at their local store or club, where everyone receives seven or more packs, generally for less than $30. Those are taking place Saturday and Sunday, May 17 and 18, although I hear that even these were booking up fast weeks ago. If you can, I really recommend making the effort for Destined Rivals. It’s a bunch of fun, and if the 55 packs I opened are an accurate sample (thanks to The Pokémon Company for sending them over), you’re likely to pick up a good handful of super-pretty full-art cards.Image: The Pokémon Company / KotakuSo why am I so excited for this set? It’s a combination of things. It’d be silly to pretend that the first appearance of Team Rocket in the game in 25 years isn’t a big part of the thrill, and the set is rammed full of the nefarious group and their signature monsters. Among the Pokémon boosted by Team Rocket are Moltres, Zapdos and Articuno, along with newcomer Spidops, classics like Meowth and Mewtwo, and that most evil of Pokémon, Flaaffy. Meanwhile, for the forces of good, Cynthia, Misty, Ethan and Arven all join, again bringing back some favorites like Milotic, Gyarados, Psyduck and Ho-oh. It’s a real crowd-pleaser.Secondly, those pull-rates. When I get these boxes of cards from TPCi, I sit down and open them with my 10-year-old. It’s a really solid way of gauging the levels of satisfaction, his spirit draining out of him when we’re tearing through a set like Journey Together and just getting endless bulk. But with Destined Rivals, even my Pokémon-uninterested wife wanted in, so fun was it to have a strong chance of finding an exciting card. Where Journey Together only had 31 full-art cards, Destined Rivals has an amazing 62! Double! Admittedly, that’s on top of a wild 182 regular cards (included ex), making this the biggest set since Surging Sparks, but with—in my admittedly unscientific sample—a seemingly much better chance of finding the special stuff.We were especially lucky to pull the Team Rocket’s Ariana Special Illustration Rare, along with one of my chase cards, the Illustration Rare of Misty’s Psyduck. No Mewtwo, sadly, but we also got 12 regular ex cards (only two duplicates), and 11 full-arts! If you include ex in the figures, that’s a pull-rate of almost one in two! Remove the regular ex cards and you’ve still got one in five for something Ultra Rare or better. Those included the wildly gorgeous Rapidash by Rond, Mori Yuu’s extraordinarily detailed Clamperl, the delightful Team Rocket’s Murkrow (with Ariana and the Pokémon staring at one another in front of a skyline of skyscrapers) by Akira Komayama, and the splendidly silly Team Rocket’s Raticate by Mekayu (the artist who gave us the glorious Drampa from Temporal Forces).Image: The Pokémon Company / KotakuAnd thirdly, the game itself! Journey Together was supposed to be the reintroduction of Trainer Pokémon to the live game, but it was such a damp squib. This time, things are really going to get mixed up! Team Rocket arrive with an array of brand new tricks and cheats, and while people are obviously going to build decks around Misty and Ethan, it’ll be the baddies that once more prove the most fun.There’s the addition of Team Rocket’s Energy, which provides two energy to any Team Rocket Pokémon, and can be either Dark or Psychic or both! Meanwhile, Team Rocket’s Venture Bomb lets you flip a coin to find out if it’s going to do 20 damage to any of your opponent’s Pokémon, or 20 specifically to your own Active Pokémon—but being an Item card, you can do this silliness as many times as you have cards in a single turn. Giovanni, meanwhile, offers a classic evil move: you can play him to swap out your current Active Pokémon, but also do the same to your opponent, and choose which of their benched Pokémon goes in. Team Rocket’s Great Ball lets you flip a coin and then pull either an Evolution or Basic Pokémon from your deck depending on the result. And then Stadium card Team Rocket’s Watchtower renders all Pokémon without abilities! That’s going to destroy so many players’ tactics!Oh, and there’s a card called Team Rocket’s Bother Bot, and while its ability is fascinating—you can flip one of your opponent’s prize cards, then pick a random card from their hand, and then choose if you want them to swap them over—I’m mostly mentioning it because I find its name very funny.Then the Team Rocket Pokémon themselves do some real mischief. Arbok, for instance, stops your opponent playing any card with an ability (unless it’s a Team Rocket), and also does 30 damage to every single Pokémon your opponent has on the board. Articuno can prevent all attack effects just by being on the bench. Dottler lets you look at the top five cards on your opponent’s deck, and then put them back in your preferred order! Ha!Nidoran ♀ and ♂ offer their usual teamwork options, but super-powerfully. Once you’ve evolved to Nidorina, you can do an attack that lets you search your deck to evolve any two of your benched monsters, and then Stage 2's Nidoqueen will do 180 damage for one energy if you have a Nidoking in play. Oh, and Ampharos, Flaaffy’s ultimate form, has an ability that means any time your opponent evolves a Pokémon, they automatically put 40 damage on it! That’s monstrous.Image: The Pokémon Company / KotakuIt’s going to be so interesting to see how people manipulate these new additions into the meta, not least when yet more cards are deliberately designed to mess up current favorite decks—Mimikyu lets you steal Tera Pokémon attacks, for instance. I think this should finally offer the shake-up the game needs in its third year of this era, before (and this is still just a rumor, but quite a likely one) next year’s switch to Mega Pokémon instead of a fourth year of S&V.Now, as I’ve said, my sample of 55 packs isn’t big enough to be indicative, and perhaps we just got weirdly lucky. But I have high hopes here. We’ll get a proper idea when the likes of Danny Phantump have put together their pull-rate data. Either way, there’s such a wealth of beautiful cards in the set, so much incredible art to collect, and a bunch that’ll make the live game so very interesting. Which is pretty much all I can ask for from a Pokémon TCG set. Other than, you know, being able to buy it. Which is going to be very, very hard to do.Destined Rivals officially releases on May 30, with pre-release events taking place this weekend, May 17-18..

Recently a friend mentioned how much of a shame it was that, generally speaking, there are few of those backdoor “classic” reimaginings today like the ones we had growing up. And after thinking for a moment, I agreed. Children and teens of the ‘90s were treated to an embarrassment of riches when it came to the Bard and Bard-adjacent films. Nearly every week seemed to offer another modernization of William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, or Geoffrey Chaucer, all retrofitted with a wink and a nudge to appeal to teenagers reading much the same texts in high school or university. But then when looking back at the sweep of 1990s cinema beyond just “teen movies,” it was more than only Julia Stiles and Heath Ledger vehicles that were getting the classical treatment. In fact the ‘90s, and to a large extent the ‘80s as well, was an era ripe with indie studios and Hollywood majors treating classic literature (if largely of the English variety) with the sanctity nowadays reserved for comic books and video games. It was a time when some of the most exciting or ambitious artists working in the industry sought to trade in the bullets and brutality of New Hollywood from a decade or two earlier in favor of the even more brutal constraints of corsets and top hats. Shakespeare was arguably bigger business in tinsel town than at any other point during this period, and we saw some of the most faithful and enduring adaptations of Austen or Louisa May Alcott make it to the screen. Why is that and can it happen again? Let’s look back at the golden age of period piece costumed dramas and splashy literary adaptations… Mozart and Merchant Ivory Since the beginning of the medium, moviemakers have looked back at well-worn and familiar stories for inspiration and audience familiarity. Not too many years after making his enduring trip to the moon, Georges Méliès adapted Hamlet into a roughly 10-minute silent short in 1907. And of course before Kenneth Branagh, Laurence Olivier had Hollywood falling in love with the Bard… at least as long it was Larry in the tights. Even so, literary adaptations were often constrained, particularly in Hollywood where filmmakers had to contend with the limitations of censorship via the Hays Code and preconceived notions about what an American audience would enjoy. The most popular costumed dramas tended to therefore be vanity projects or something of a more sensational hue—think biblical or swords and sandals epics. So it’s difficult to point to an exact moment where that changed in the 1980s, yet we’d hazard to suggest the close together Oscar seasons of 1984 and 1986 had a lot to do with it. After all, the first was the year that Miloš Forman’s AmadeusA Room with a View. Considered by Forster scholars one of the author’s slighter works, the film had critics like Roger Ebert swooning that it was a masterpiece. In the case of Amadeus, the director of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)—a zeitgeist-shaping portrait of modern oppression and control from about a decade earlier—was taking the story of Mozart and making it a punk rock tragicomedy. Based on a Peter Shaffer play of the same name, Forman and Shaffer radically reimagined the story, making it both funnier and darker as Forman strove to pose Mozart as a modern day rebel iconoclast with his wig resembling as much Sid Vicious as the Age of Enlightenment. Located atop Tom Hulce’s giggling head, it signaled a movie that had all the trappings of melodrama but felt accessible and exciting to a wide modern audience. It went on to do relatively big business and win Best Picture. While not the first period film to do so, it was the first in a long while set in what could be construed as the distant past (Richard Attenborough’s Gandhi won the year before but that was based on a subject matter in the living memory of most Academy voters). Otherwise, most of the recent winners were dramas or dramedies about the modern world: Kramer vs. Kramer (1979), The Deer Hunter (1978), and Annie Hall (1977). They reflected an audience that wanted to get away from the artificiality of their parents’ cinema, which in the U.S. associated historical costumes with the (grand) phoniness of Ben-Hur (1959) or Oliver! (1968). Yet perhaps the movie that proved this was the beginning of a popular trend came a few years later via the British masterpiece A Room with a View. To be sure, the partnership of Merchant and Ivory had been going for more than 20 years by the time they got to adapting Forster, including with several other costumed dramas and period pieces. However, those films were mixed with modern comedies and dramas like rock ’n roll-infused The Guru (1969) and Jane Austen in Manhattan (1980). More importantly, all of these films tended to be art house pictures; small chamber pieces intended for a limited audience. Yet as the marketing campaign would later trumpet about A Room with a View—the ethereal romantic dramedy which introduced Daniel Day-Lewis and a fresh-faced Helena Bonham Carter to the U.S.—this movie had the “highest single theatre gross in the country!” (It’s fun to remember a time when a movie just selling out in New York every day could make it a hit.) The film’s combination of Forster’s wry satire and cynicism about English aristocracy in the late Victorian and early Edwardian era, coupled with the sweeping romance of Puccini arias and Tuscan countrysides, made it a massive success. It also defined what became the “Merchant Ivory” period piece forever after, including in future Oscar and box office darlings like the Anthony Hopkins, Emma Thompson, and Carter-starring Howard’s End (1992), and Hopkins and Thompson’s reunion in The Remains of the Day (1993). These were all distinctly British and understated pictures, with Remains being an outright tragedy delivered in a hushed whisper, but their relative success with a certain type of moviegoer and Academy voter signaled to Hollywood that there was gold up in ‘em hills. And soon enough, more than just Forman on the American side was going up there to mine it. Join our mailing list Get the best of Den of Geek delivered right to your inbox! 20th Century Studios Martin Scorsese, Michael Mann, and the Auteur’s Costumed Drama In 1990, Michael Mann was one of the hottest creatives working in Hollywood. As the executive producer and sometime-director on NBC’s edgy (by ‘80s standards) police drama, Miami Vice, he played a direct hand in proving American television could be “gritty” and artistic. Even the episodes he didn’t helm were defined by the standards he insisted upon—such as never putting cool guys Crockett and Tubbs in a red or brown car. It would clash with the neon-light-on-celluloid aesthetic that Mann developed for the series. As that series was winding down by 1990, Mann was more in demand than ever to make any film project he might have wanted—something perhaps in-keeping with Vice or gritty crime thrillers he’d made in the ’80s like serial killer thriller Manhunter (1986). Instead he sought to adapt a childhood favorite for the screen, James Fenimore Cooper’s 19th century American frontier novel, The Last of the Mohicans. Certainly a problematic text in its original form with its imperial-fantasy riff on the French and Indian War (or Seven Years War) where Indigenous tribes in what is today upstate New York were either reduced to the noble or cruel savage stereotypes, the text proved a jumping off point for Mann to craft a gripping, primal, and prestigious film. He also made a movie that far exceeded its source material with The Last of the Mohicans being an often wordless opera of big emotions played in silence by Day-Lewis, Madeleine Stowe, and Wes Studi, all while Trevor Jones and Randy Edelman’s musical score looms like thunderclouds across the mountainous landscape. It is an elevated action movie, and a beautiful drama that did bigger business in the U.S. than Disney’s Beauty and the Beast and Tom Cruise vehicle A Few Good Men in the same year. It also would create a precedent we’d see followed time and again throughout the rest of the decade. Some of the biggest and most respected filmmakers of the moment, many of them praised under auteur theory, were looking to literary classics for an audience that craved them. After the one-two genre punch of Goodfellas (1990) and Cape Fear (1991), Martin Scorsese made one of his most ambitious and underrated films: a stone-cold 1993 masterpiece inspired by an Edith Wharton novel, The Age of Innocence. It’s a story that Scorsese argues is just as brutal, if not more so, than his gangster pictures. Indeed, The Age of Innocence remains the best cinematic representation of the Gilded Age in the U.S., capturing the lush pageantry of the most elite New Yorkers’ lifestyles in their robber baron heyday, as well as how class snobbery metastasized into a ruthless tribalism that doomed the romantic yearnings of one conformist attorney (again Daniel Day-Lewis) and this would-be divorcée love of his life (Michelle Pfeiffer). It might not have been a hit in its time, but Ang Lee’s breakout in the U.S. a year later definitely was. The Taiwanese filmmaker was already the toast of international and independent cinema via movies like The Wedding Banquet (1993) and martial arts-adjacent Pushing Hands (1991), but it is when he directed a flawless adaptation of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility in 1995 that he became a Hollywood favorite who would soon get movies like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) and Hulk (2003) greenlit. Sense and Sensibility benefits greatly, too, from a marvelous cast with Emma Thompson, Hugh Grant, Kate Winslet, and Alan Rickman among its ensemble. It also captured the sophisticated satirical and melancholic underpinnings of Austen’s pen that most previous Hollywood adaptations never scratched. It set a standard that most of the best Austen adaptations to this day are measured by, be it Joe Wright and Keira Knightley’s cinematic take on Pride and Prejudice a decade later, various attempts at Emma from the 1990s with Gwyneth Paltrow to this decade with Anya Taylor-Joy, or even Netflix’s recent Dakota Johnson-led Persuasion adaptation. Columbia / Sony A Dark Universe of Gods and Monsters Meanwhile, right before Columbia Pictures greenlit Scorsese’s The Age of Innocence and later Gillian Armstrong’s still delightful (and arguably definitive) interpretation of Little Women in 1994, the same studio signed off on its first period piece with Winona Ryder attached to star. And it was Dracula. Considered a folly of hubris at the time by rivals who snickered to Variety it should be renamed “Bonfire of the Vampires” (in reference to a notorious Brian De Palma bomb from 1990), Bram Stoker’s Dracula was Francis Ford Coppola’s lurid and magnificent reimagining of Stoker’s definitive Victorian novel. Published in 1897 with on-the-nose metaphors for London society’s anxieties over foreigners, sexual promiscuity and disease, and the so-called “New Woman” working in the professional classes, Coppola saw all of that potential in the well-worn and adapted vampire novel. He also correctly predicted there was a box office hit if he could bring all those elements out in an exciting and anachronistic fever dream for the MTV generation. Love or hate Coppola’s looseness with Stoker’s novel—which is pretty audacious since he put the author’s name in the title—Coppola crafted one of the most sumptuous and expensive depictions of Victorian society ever put onscreen, winning costume designer Eiko Ishioka an Oscar for the effort. He also made an unexpected holiday hit that played like bloody gangbusters alongside Home Alone 2 and Aladdin that winter. It set a standard for what can in retrospect be considered a pseudo “dark universe” of classic literary monsters getting ostensibly faithful and expensive adaptations by Hollywood. Coppola himself produced Kenneth Branagh’s Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1994), a film that is actually in many ways closer to the thematic letter of its author than Bram Stoker’s Dracula ever was. It was also a worse movie that flopped, but it looked spectacular as the only major Frankenstein movie to remember Shelley set the story during the Age of Enlightenment in the late 18th century. Yet while Frankenstein failed, Tom Cruise and Neil Jordan would have a lot of success in the same year adapting Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire. The book admittedly was recent, having been published in 1976, but the story’s roots and setting in 18th and 19th century bayou occultism were not. It was also a grandiose costumed drama where the guy who played Top Gun’s Maverick would sink fangs into young Brad Pitt’s neck in a scene dripping in homoeroticism. This trend continued throughout the ‘90s with some successes, like Tim Burton’s wildly revisionist (and Coppola-produced) Sleepy Hollow in 1999, and some misses. For instance, did you remember that Julia Roberts at the height of her stardom appeared in a revisionist take on Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde where she played the not-so-good doctor’s maid? It’s called Mary Reilly (1996), by the by. The Samuel Goldwyn Company The Resurgence of Shakespeare Of course when talking about classic literature and storytelling, one name rises above most others in the schools and curriculums of the English-speaking world. Yet curiously it was only in the 1990s that someone really lit on the idea of making a movie directly based on the Bard tailored almost exclusively for that demographic: Baz Luhrmann in 1996, who reconfigured the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet into the visual language of MTV. He even stylized the title as William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet. That proved the tip of an anachronistic iceberg whose cast included Leonardo DiCaprio at the height of his heartthrob powers as Romeo and real-life teenager Claire Danes as his Capulet amore. Their Verona was a Neverland composite of Miami, Rio de Janeiro, and the nightly news, with hyper music video editing and frenetic neon-hued melodrama. Some older scholars viewed Luhrmann’s anachronisms as an abomination, but as a Millennial, I can attest we loved this thing back in the day. Many still do. But it was hardly the first box office breakout for Shakespeare in the ‘90s. When the decade began, the helmer of another cinematic Romeo and Juliet classic from a different era, Franco Zeffirelli, attempted to make Hamlet exciting for “kids these days” by casting Mel Gibson right in the midst of his Lethal Weapon popularity as the indecisive Dane. To the modern eye, it is hard to remember Gibson was a heartthrob of sorts in the ‘80s and early ‘90s—or generally viewed as a dashing star worthy of heroic leading men roles. Nonetheless, there is quite a bit to like about Hamlet (1990) if you can look past Gibson’s off-screen behavior in the following decades, or the fact Zeffirelli cuts what is a four-hour play down to less than 2.5 hours. Gibson actually makes for a credible and genuinely mad Hamlet (perhaps not a surprise now), and Zeffirelli mines the medieval melancholy of the story well with production design, costumes, and location shooting at real Norman castles. Plus, Helena Bonham Carter remains the best Ophelia ever put to screen. Hamlet (1990) would eventually be overshadowed, though, both by Gibson’s awful behavior and because of a much grander and bombastic adaptation from the man who became the King of Shakespeare Movies in the ‘90s: Kenneth Branagh. Aye, Branagh might deserve the most credit for the Shakespearean renaissance in this era, beginning with his adaptation of Henry V (1989), which featured the makings of Branagh’s troupe of former RSC favorites turned film actors: Derek Jacobi, Brian Blessed, and of course his future wife (and ex), Emma Thompson. Together the pair would mount what is in this writer’s opinion the best film ever based on a Shakespeare play, the divine and breezy Much Ado About Nothing (1993), a perfect encapsulation of perhaps the first romantic comedy ever written that features Branagh and Thompson as the sharp-tongued, dueling lovers Benedict and Beatrice. It also features Denzel Washington as a dashing Renaissance prince, Kate Beckinsale in her breakout role, and a gloriously over-the-top score by Patrick Doyle. It would define the style of Branagh’s following ‘90s efforts, whether they went off-the-rails like in the aforementioned Frankenstein, or right back on them in the 70mm-filmed, ultra wide and sunny adaptation of Hamlet he helmed in 1996. Avoiding the psychological and Freudian interpretations of the Danish prince chased by Olivier and Zeffirelli, Branagh turns Hamlet into a romantic hero spearheading an all-star ensemble cast. At the play’s full four-hour length, Hamlet (1996) is indulgent. Yet somehow that befits the material. Branagh would also star as Iago in Oliver Parker’s Othello (1995) opposite Laurence Fishburne and reconfigure the Bard as a musical in his own directorial effort, Love’s Labour’s Lost (2000). It paved the way for more outside-the-box Shakespeare movies by the end of the decade like Julie Taymor’s deconstructionist Titus (1999) and the A Midsummer Night’s Dream from 1999 where Kevin Kline turns into an ass and makes out with Michelle Pfeiffer. CBS via Getty Images The Birth of the Teenage Shakespeare Remix (and Austen, and Chaucer, and…) As popular as the Shakespeare movie became in the ‘90s, what’s curiously unique about this era is the simultaneous rise of movies that adapted either the Bard or other highly respected literary writers and turned them into a pure teenage dream. We’re talking moving past modernizing Romeo and Juliet like Luhrmann did, or repurposing it for high New York society like Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim aimed with West Side Story. These were straight, unapologetic youth films that also proved clever reworkings of classic storytelling structure. Among the best directly derived from Shakespeare is the movie that made Julia Stiles and Heath Ledger Gen-X icons, 10 Things I Hate About You (1999), a happily campy update of The Taming of the Shrew set in a fairytale high school also populated by future Christopher Nolan favorites like Joseph Gordon-Levitt and David Krumholtz. Stiles would, in fact, do this kind of remix a number times in the more serious-faced modernization of Othello, O (2000), which also starred Mekhi Phifer as a tragically distrusting high school sports star instead of warrior, and Michael Almereyda and Ethan Hawke’s own Hamlet (2000), the third Hamlet movie in 10 years, albeit this one set in turn-of-the-century NYC. Ledger also returned to the concept by adapting another, even older literary giant, in this case the medieval poet Geoffrey Chaucer, for A Knight’s Tale (2001), an anachronistic blending of the medieval and modern where peasants grooved in the jousting tournament stands to Queen. There was also the strange attempt to turn Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’ Dangerous Liaisons from 1782 into an erotic thriller for teens (the ‘90s were weird, huh?) via the lusty Cruel Intentions However, easily the best of these remains Amy Heckerling’s CluelessEmma from the Regency period to a fairytale version of 1990s Beverly Hills. Foregoing modern fads and simply inventing her own—with the assumption anything she wrote in 1994 would be dated by ’95—Heckerling create a faux yet now authentically iconic language and fashion style via Cher (Alicia Silverstone), a charmed SoCal princess who is so well-meaning in her matchmaking mischief that she defies any attempts to detest her entitlement or vanity. You kind of are even low-key chill that the happy ending is she hooks up with her step brother (Paul Rudd). It’s a classic! And the Rest There are many, many more examples we could examine from this era. These can include the sublime like the Gillian Armstrong-directed Little Women of 1994 starring Winona Ryder, Claire Danes, and Kirsten Dunst; and they can include the wretched like the Demi Moore and Gary Oldman-led The Scarlet Letter (1995). There were more plays adapted, a la Arthur Miller’s The Crucible (again with Ryder and Day-Lewis!), and then those that just had some fun with playwrights, as seen in the over-celebrated Shakespeare in LoveBraveheart (1995). More than a few of these won Best Picture Oscars as well, including Braveheart, Shakespeare in Love, and James Cameron’s little 1997 movie you might have heard about elsewhere: Titanic. And yet, this type of film has by and large gone away. Once in a while one comes along that still works, such as Greta Gerwig’s own revisionist interpretation of Little Women. That beautiful film was a good-sized hit in 2019, but it did not exactly usher in a new era of literary adaptations. Now such projects, like everything else not considered four-quadrant intellectual property by studio bean counters, is mostly relegated to long-form stream series. Which in some cases is fine. Many would argue the best version of Pride & Prejudice was the BBC production… also from the ‘90s, mind. But whether it is original period piece films or adaptations, unless you’re Robert Eggers (who arguably isn’t making films for the same mainstream sensibility the likes of Gerwig or, for that matter, Coppola were), period piece storytelling and “great adaptations” have been abandoned to the small screen and full-on wish fulfillment anachronisms like Bridgerton. This seems due to studios increasingly eschewing anything that isn’t reliably based on a brand that middle-aged adults loved. But in that case… it might be worth reminding them that ‘90s kids are getting older and having children of their own. There may again be a market beyond the occasional Gerwig swing, or Eggers take on Dracula, for classic stories; a new audience being raised to want modern riffs inspired by tales that have endured for years and centuries. These stories are mostly in the public domain too. And recent original hits like Sinners suggests you don’t even need a classic story to connect with audiences. So perhaps once again, a play’s the thing in which they can catch the conscience of the… consumer? Or something like that.