Issues

Why ancient wisdom is the ultimate shield against modern noise

Tom Hodgkinson is the founding editor of ‘The Idler’ magazine and the author of ‘How to Live Like a Stoic: A Handbook for Happiness’. Here, he explains how the ancient philosophical tradition inspired by Socrates could hold the key to a better life.

For all its undoubted attractions – excellent theatre, participative democracy, a free and easy attitude to sex – ancient Athens was a dangerous place to live in if you spoke out. Socrates found this out the hard way. After a lifetime of trying to convince Athenians to stop chasing money and status and to spend more time caring for their own souls, he was accused of corrupting the morals of the young and worshipping false gods. He was tried in front of a jury of 501, found guilty and sentenced to death by hemlock. The year was 399 BCE and Socrates was 70.

Around 300 BCE, a new philosophical school appeared. Called Stoicism, it was inspired by Socrates and the life that he had led. Its founder, Zeno, developed the notion that we should be indifferent to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and remain impassive, calm and happy whatever goes on in the outside world – or whatever happens to us. Socrates, the Stoics pointed out, had walked cheerfully to his death. His friends offered to spring him out of jail and set him up with a comfortable life on a distant island but he chose to submit to his fate.

Being Stoic today is no easy task. You can’t help but encounter so many things designed to unsettle you. Foremost among these is the advertising-sales business known as social media. The way that the likes of X and Facebook work is a bit like newspapers but taken to a new level. Newspapers peddle bad news in their main sections, with the good news of the adverts in between. In a similar way, social media makes you anxious with depressing news, then ads promise ways to relieve that anxiety (invariably by spending money). As everyone surely knows by now, people click on negative stories. More money is generally made from posts about murder, strife and war than from happy ones. As a result, companies have an incentive to pump horrible stuff into the world.

You can do practical things to resist this anxiety culture. In my case, I threw away my smartphone 10 years ago. This cut off one stream of rubbish. Another trick is to take a day off from the news. Every now and then, I switch on BBC Radio 3 and float around in a blissful state of ignorance. One friend avoids all news. Another has taken things to an extreme: he lives on a smallholding in Ireland with no internet or phone.

But instead of trying to escape the noise, which is extremely difficult, the Stoics would advise you to improve your mental resilience so that you can live with it. Socrates and the Stoics didn’t believe that your personality was fixed. They reckoned that just as the body can be honed through training, you can condition your mind and your soul to become strong and beautiful too. The Stoics thought that you could use the power of your mind to be happy. You could start with small things. Say a beloved cup gets broken. Can you react with equanimity? Yes, you can. “It’s up to you,” as the Stoic Epictetus put it. You can choose how you respond. Can you remain indifferent if a driver shouts at you while you’re on your bicycle? Yes. Socrates used to annoy people so much that they kicked him in the street. He would just walk on. When asked how he could stay calm in the face of such attacks, he said, “Would I get angry if a donkey kicked me?”

Being indifferent like the Stoics doesn’t mean giving up. Socrates spoke out against tyrants all his life and philosophy is anti-tyrannical by nature. Tyrants don’t like philosophers because they think. Socrates believed that being philosophical was a great service to his fellow Athenians. And he did more for the state by avoiding conventional politics than by entering the fray. We can be both Stoic and fight the powers that be.

Inside Tengah, Singapore’s first purpose-built eco-friendly town reshaping public housing

When Farhani Hanafi-Shuy was hunting for a home with her partner in 2019, she knew that there was one public-housing development that she was willing to wait years for. Tengah in Singapore’s West Region was pitched by the city-state’s Housing & Development Board (HDB) as its first smart and sustainable town. On what was once a military training ground, 700 hectares of land would be turned into a walkable, eco-friendly neighbourhood with about 30,000 residential units. Unlike most of the older public-housing estates, Tengah would be enveloped in nature, flanked by a 5km forest corridor linking the Western Water Catchment area to the Central Catchment Nature Reserve.

The development’s proximity to lush, layered landscapes was a big draw for Hanafi-Shuy. “It’s rare to come across a neighbourhood with so much greenery these days ,” she says. “That’s why this project felt like a perfect find.” The prospect of living in the first HDB town to be developed entirely from scratch in about 20 years was also attractive to her.

The ambitious project draws from Singapore’s long history of creating public housing. In the 1960s the nation faced an acute overcrowding crisis; the state responded by selling heavily subsidised government-built homes – known as HDB flats – through a 99-year leasehold system. In 2001 it introduced the Build-to-Order (BTO) scheme, under which new high-rise estates are constructed in accordance to demand. Buyers typically wait three to four years for their flats to be ready but the units are priced below market rates. Today about 80 per cent of the population lives in HDB flats, attesting to the public-housing system’s success.

Ten years after Tengah’s announcement – and following delays related to the coronavirus pandemic – half of its homes have been completed, with a town centre, clinic and train stations still to come. Twelve months since she finally moved in, Hanafi-Shuy says that the long wait was worth it. “Unlike in my former estate, everything that I need is now only a short walk away and the paths aren’t disrupted by cars,” she says. “You’re guaranteed to see a garden along the way.”

Exploring Tengah on foot leaves a striking impression. Two “community farmways” – 40-metre-wide, 1.3km-long tapestries of pavilions, nature-themed playgrounds and fitness areas, all amid luxuriant flora – blur the line between a housing estate and a park. The playgrounds are positioned beside the fitness areas and outdoor seating to foster a sense of community and strengthen ties between different generations. These spaces show how HDB’s role has evolved: while building affordable homes remains a central goal, it now also focuses on placemaking grounded in compassionate design.

When Singapore-based multidisciplinary design firm DP Architects was tasked with shaping a 360-metre-long green spine within one farmway, it saw an opportunity to establish a focal point for the Plantation District (the first of Tengah’s five districts to be developed). “We drew inspiration from Singapore’s 1950s agricultural heritage by weaving pepper and nutmeg motifs into the estate,” says Guo Zi Ang, a senior associate director at DP Architects. At its heart is a diamond-shaped quadrangle featuring abstract pepper-leaf forms and an elevated platform that stretches outwards via sky bridges.

These walkways wind up towards pocket gardens dotted among the towers on the third storey. Though public spaces, commonly known as “void decks”, are usually found on the street level of HDB estates, DP Architects planted these leafy hideaways higher up to increase residents’ “sense of ownership” over them. “These raised ‘community living rooms’ offer more privacy, as non-residents are less likely to wander upstairs,” says Chai Yee Foo, the director of the practice.

Another unlikely social hub is a diamond-shaped courtyard on top of a multi-storey car park, nestled within four housing blocks. “We have adapted the traditional courtyard concept – commonly found in Chinese homes and prewar shophouses – for a larger urban scale, in the hope of encouraging neighbourly interaction,” says Foo. It is flanked by terraced gardens that turn rainwater run-off into cascading waterfalls after a downpour. Tengah’s green patches don’t just look pretty; they serve as natural sponges to filter storm water and reduce the risk of flooding. Given the rise of flash floods, such design decisions have become essential parts of Singapore’s urban infrastructure.

HDB has also carefully considered the home interiors. When architectural designer Linwang Zhang moved into Tengah, she immediately noticed the recessed, double-glazed windows in her residence. The development is near a military airbase so these help to dull the rumbling of overhead aircraft. “This might be the first time that I’ve seen a combination of casement and sliding windows in an HDB home,” says Zhang. “They reduce noise and keep out wind-driven rain without compromising on ventilation.”

Every home also comes with features such as a pneumatic waste-conveyance system that uses high-speed air suction to transport household waste and recyclables to a centralised facility, improving hygiene and reducing the manpower needed for rubbish collection. Meanwhile, a system of smart sockets gives residents a breakdown of their energy consumption through an app.

Tengah’s most ambitious new feature is the development’s centralised cooling system (CCS). Billed as an energy-efficient alternative to conventional air conditioning, it circulates cold water from shared rooftop chillers to individual flats.

Such cooling and heating systems have been in operation in several of Singapore’s public and commercial buildings (including at the Marina Bay Financial Centre) since 2006 but not in residences. There were initial teething issues – some of the first residents apparently experienced leaks and condensation – but the SP Group, the company overseeing the CCS, quickly made the necessary adjustments. “Everything has since stabilised,” says Yen Ching Tee, the managing director of SP Home Cooling.

Ultimately, the success of any new town is measured less by its systems than by its people. And for Hanafi-Shuy, her experience of Tengah’s community has been worlds apart from that of her previous neighbourhood. “I didn’t know my neighbours in my old area but the people here have been very welcoming,” says Hanafi-Shuy. “I started playing pickleball at an open-air court nearby and the retirees are always ready to help beginners pick up the sport.”

Zi Yang Wong, who moved into Tengah with his wife more than a year ago, feels the same way. He quickly found like-minded people through a badminton group. “If I had moved to an older estate, I don’t think that I would have found such a great community,” he says. The town’s groundbreaking design and infrastructure have fostered residents’ strong sense of place. At a time of property crises across much of the globe, Tengah is a testament to what great public housing can be.

From workshops to hotels, here’s how Vienna is transforming its hidden gems for a second life

Austrian glass-blower Robert Comploj is perhaps best known for his oddly shaped glass sculptures, which he has produced for clients such as marmalade brand Staud’s and energy-drink company Red Bull. But the tousled-haired Comploj also makes time for personal projects. Positioning himself in the space between art, design and craft, he has exhibited work at Vienna’s Hofburg palace and at Art Basel Miami. “There are many kinds of glass-blowing: the Venetian tradition, the Czech tradition,” he says. “I want to have my own style, my own way.”

Comploj opened his first studio in Linz, Austria’s third-largest city, before moving to a space in Vienna’s Neubau district. His practice, however, soon outgrew it. His search for an alternative led him some 3km away to the courtyard of a residential block beside a red-brick Lutheran church in the Währing area. There, he discovered a former car-repair workshop spread across two adjoining structures, with offices in a third. He bought them in 2018 and commissioned local architecture firm Berger 1 Parkkinen to convert them into a working studio and home, moving in five years later.

“This place was really run down and out of use for a long time,” says Tiina Parkkinen, the firm’s co-founder, as she walks through the old workshop, which is now Comploj’s atelier. Today the revamped space is flooded with natural light from large windows and skylights. At its centre is a huge furnace, capable of holding about 120kg of molten glass and running almost nonstop. “This is a unique project because of its use as a glass-blower’s studio,” says Parkkinen. “We were interested in representing that in the architecture, through the furnace and the bright space for the showroom.”

Comploj’s home is in the former offices, which have been expanded with an additional floor beneath the pitched roof. The entire space is finished in a muted, Scandinavian palette. “It feels very special to have this small oasis here, hidden from the street,” says Parkkinen. “When you come into the courtyard, there’s a wow effect.”

Such wow-inducing projects are rare in any city but exceedingly so in Vienna, where there are strict limits on new construction – particularly in its central districts – owing to the city’s high population density. As a result, buildings are commonly adapted and reused. In 2024, for example, 7,112 permits were issued for additions, extensions and conversions in existing structures.

How shops became hotel rooms

This predilection for reuse is nothing new in the Austrian capital and extends well beyond residential development. In the early 2010s, two groups of entrepreneurs independently decided to turn some of the city’s vacant ground-floor shops – tobacconists, tailors and so on – into hotel rooms. One was a team that included a hotelier, the CEO of a cultural-management agency and Markus Kaplan, a partner at design and architecture practice BWM. “That’s how these things begin,” Kaplan tells Monocle. “They don’t start if you only talk to architects. You need people from many disciplines.” They named their project Grätzlhotel (Grätzl is the Austrian-German word for “neighbourhood”).

At about the same time, a budding hospitality concept called Urbanauts was pursuing a similar idea. “They were actually a little faster in opening than us,” says Kaplan. Before long, the two groups decided to join forces. Today they offer 24 rooms spread across four districts, with clusters around two major marketplaces. One of these can be found at Meidlinger Markt in the 12th district – a working-class area that is undergoing gentrification. There are nine rooms here, all of which are in former commercial spaces, including a record shop, bakery and shoemaker.

Fabian Feldtmann joined the team in 2023 after studying tourism. “There are so many generic hotel brands these days but this approach really makes you feel connected to the city,” he says. Feldtmann points out Ignaz & Rosalia, a small café in the market that is one of Urbanauts’ “fellows” – co-operating businesses that serve as a kind of lobby for visitors. Another is Heu & Gabel restaurant, which is more upscale and dinner-oriented. “What was interesting was this idea of putting the focus on the neighbourhood,” says Feldtmann.

The radio being re-tuned into housing

While the Grätzlhotels and Comploj’s glassblowing studio quietly enrich the city, one conversion that is under way is anything but discreet: the Funkhaus, the former radio headquarters of Österreichischer Rundfunk (ORF), Austria’s public broadcaster. “Everyone in the country knows this building,” says BWM architect Kaplan, who is in charge of the project. “In the old days, you would send your letters to the radio station to this address.”

The conversion was commissioned by the site’s new owner, Hubert Rhomberg. Under current plans, the building will be transformed into a mixed residential and hospitality development. Its front section will become a hotel. The rear, a five-storey block, will be turned into flats, with an additional free-standing block to one side. Though it’s still early days, apartments have already gone on sale, with prices ranging from €530,000 for a one-bedroom unit to €2.2m for a 166 sq m duplex.

For now, most of the Funkhaus’s radio control rooms and offices are being used as artists’ studios, with some of that spirit set to carry over into the future – BWM’s plans include rehearsal spaces for musicians and public areas. In this way, the Funkhaus redevelopment perfectly reflects Vienna’s community-minded, reuse-focused approach. As Rhomberg says, “We want to lead the building into a new era as a lively, pulsating place that connects past, present and future.”

Parkview Mountain House: A creative retreat on Utah’s Wasatch cliffside

Few developers would see a 30-degree cliff face in Utah’s Wasatch mountains as an ideal spot for a holiday property. But Toronto-based Globizen’s vision of an Alpine-inspired guesthouse that remains popular out of season meant quite literally pursuing a more creative angle. “I have always associated these mountains with an artistic energy,” says Brandon Donnelly, Globizen’s founder.

Built in collaboration with New York architecture firm Mattaforma, Parkview Mountain House is a 20- to 30-minute drive from Salt Lake City. Across three floors, it has three bedrooms and a living space with a rooftop terrace, work desks and an alfresco hot tub.

Its bespoke creative programme targets the “shoulder” months in late spring and early autumn, when fewer people visit Utah’s mountains to go hiking or partake in winter sports. To entice writers, artists and musicians, Globizen made a highly unconventional choice: the three-day residencies at Parkview Mountain House would be free as long as guests contribute something. “Whether it’s artwork, sculptures, photos or videos, they just have to add to the cultural archive,” says Donnelly.

Nature was integral to the design process. “We were forced by the landscape to decide what was essential for helping creatives to focus,” says Lindsey Wikstrom, Mattaforma’s co-founder. “It’s a steep hill, with amazing wildlife in all seasons. Deer wander down from the mountains. It’s hard not to get inspired.”
pmhpc.com

‘We mustn’t be afraid of a connected world’: Jerome Frost on beauty, grit and reviving cities

Founded in 1946, global built environment consultancy Arup has evolved with our cities. Today it employs more than 17,000 people – architects and designers but also psychologists and ecologists – in more than 130 countries. Its CEO, Jerome Frost, shares his insights into what makes a city tick and why humanity, grit and beauty remain important.

We need to tackle waste but what’s all this about upcycling skyscrapers?
In an age of high inflation in materials and limited resources, there’s a sense that we have to do more with less. We estimate that about 10 per cent of the 40,000 tall buildings across the globe are reaching the end of their lifespan so we’re looking at the restoration of some fantastic examples, such as Quay Quarter Tower. Rather than demolishing it, we have saved 90 per cent of the core and a huge amount of carbon by stripping and restoring the building. We are entering a golden age of urban renewal.

How is technology changing the way you work?
It’s giving us an extraordinary opportunity and will be at the heart of what we call “total design”, the philosophy that motivates us as an organisation. But we need to ask the right questions. That means having the curiosity to go beyond the norm and what worked in the past – to imagine the future.

We talk about efficiency and smart cities but do we talk enough about beauty and grit?
I know all about beauty and grit from living in London, which has a lot to offer. I was a consultant on the King’s Cross scheme, a combination of old and new. We mustn’t be afraid of a connected world, while keeping what makes cities human, liveable and vital. That’s an imperative.
arup.com

‘Madrid and Lisbon are stealing the spotlight’: Knight Frank on Europe’s hottest homes

Knight Frank is a global property consultancy with more than 600 offices and some 21,500 staff, including a research team that tracks every trend in the market. Ahead of Mipim, we asked Kate Everett-Allen, Knight Frank’s head of European residential research, to unpack the company’s recent European outlook report.

Which European cities have the most robust markets?
Madrid and Lisbon are performing particularly well. We are also seeing an interest in Cascais and Comporta in Portugal. There are several factors at play. There’s the economic side – these places are due to outperform a large part of the Eurozone over the course of the next 12 to 24 months. There’s also a lot of investment going into infrastructure. With Madrid, we have seen significant interest, not just from traditional places such as Latin America but also from the US and northern Europe.

What makes Madrid so desirable?
Accessibility, quality of life, healthcare, education and good international schools. But there’s also the sense of security that you get from being in Madrid compared to some other European cities.

Is taxation helping some cities to attract wealthier buyers?
What we have seen over the past couple of years is that tax hasn’t featured as highly as we thought it would. It has moved up to joint first place [as a trigger for people to move] but it’s not the only key driver. Business opportunities and political stability are also driving cross-border flows and relocations.

Reports suggest that Milan is enticing a lot of prosperous property owners.
Milan is of interest and we have seen a lot of demand. Italy has now changed its flat-tax rules twice but the good thing is that it’s been quick and transparent. We have also seen some outflow from Milan after people have been there a year or two, to places such as Lake Como and Tuscany.

Are London’s richest selling up their homes because the tax rules for so-called non-doms were changed?
It’s more nuanced than the headlines suggest. A lot of people have not sold up. Instead, they have kept their property and rented it out. Stockholm ranked the highest in your survey of house-price growth.

What’s fuelling demand there?
Stockholm’s robustness is actually a correction narrative. Prices fell by 5 to 10 per cent and now they’re just recovering. Madrid, Lisbon and Dublin are all close behind in our price forecast. How do you see the European property market developing? We think that there’s a range of tier-two cities that will come under the microscope more: Bordeaux, Lausanne, Porto.

How Nayla de Freige saved ‘L’Orient-Le Jour’ and reinvented Lebanese media

Recent years in Lebanon have been tumultuous, not least for the country’s media organisations. One publication has thrived thanks to its spirited boss and her bold decision-making. Here we meet the CEO of ‘L’Orient-Le Jour’, Nayla de Freige.   

“Every morning we’d have our newspaper with our coffee, as the French say,” says Nayla de Freige. The CEO of Lebanon’s leading French-language newspaper grew up with L’Orient-Le Jour, in which her father was a shareholder. Little did the young De Freige know that decades later, she’d be at the helm, having saved the print paper from the brink and successfully brought the publication’s esteemed journalism into the digital sphere. 

Long a mainstay of Beirut’s literati, L’Orient-Le Jour became a legend during the Lebanese civil war. As other journalists and publications retreated to the mountains, L’Orient-Le Jour reporters stayed in their offices in west Beirut, churning out the daily paper under heavy bombardment. “Some of the team were crossing the demarcation line every day,” says De Freige. “Our editor was killed by sniper fire. It was a local resistance paper. Salaries were meaningless; it was about a dedication to the cause.”

Meanwhile De Freige, having graduated from the American University of Beirut, was living between Beirut and Paris, raising her young daughter. She came on board at L’Orient-Le Jour to create Génération Kalachnikov, a series in which she and film producer Maroun Bagdadi interviewed Lebanon’s youth about their lives during the war. The experience inspired De Freige’s next project, a weekly supplement for young people called Les Copains. “For 10 years we were a young team explaining to the youth what was happening in the region,” she says. “During the war, people in Lebanon were living in ghettos and not going to other areas. We wanted to create a link between them [and the world].”

When her supplement came to an end, De Freige moved on to economic magazine Le Commerce du Levant. But in the postwar boom of the 1990s, it became clear that L’Orient-Le Jour was in trouble – it needed a financial and staffing overhaul. De Freige stepped in as CEO in 2000. 

After the first few years of tough decisions and “reinvigoration”, as she calls it, came another challenge: digitalisation. In 2014, L’Orient-Le Jour launched the region’s first paid-for news website. A paywall was a risk but De Freige was certain that it would work. “Fifty five per cent of our revenue was coming from advertising,” she says. “We were in crisis, with advertising dropping. I knew we could count on the readers. We had to build a model to help us stay alive.”

In a field where most outlets are politically aligned and funded, L’Orient-Le Jour has maintained its independence thanks to its pay model – about 70 per cent of its budget comes from subscribers. That has allowed the paper to blossom even as competitors folded. “We were becoming not just a local paper but also a regional one, talking more and more to diaspora and the whole world.”

In 2020, as Lebanon’s economy crashed, De Freige launched the paper’s English-language edition, L’Orient Today. Now it is the first port of call for foreigners wanting to understand Lebanon. De Freige’s goal is clear: to elevate Arab voices and give international readers a perspective they won’t find in Western media. “The form might change but the mission to make a new Middle East will continue,” she says.

De Freige has big plans for the paper, including an Arabic edition. “This job requires creativity, experimentation and risk-taking,” she says. “We believe that we can be part of building something new.” If reinvigoration was the goal, L’Orient-Le Jour has the right woman at the helm.
lorientlejour.com

Penthouses for poodles: The rise of Japan’s hi-tech, pet-first homes

Lamb, a two-year-old toy poodle, is kicking back at a well-appointed apartment in Ikegami in the south of Tokyo. She has the run of the place, including her own area with a bed, toys and a built-in deodorising system to keep the air fragrant. There’s a niche for her buggy at the door and a pet-washing station at the entrance to clean her paws after a run in the park. All 15 apartments in this new development are designed for pet owners and their animals. Dog trainers can be booked for house calls, every unit has non-slip wood flooring and cat walkways have been installed along the windows. An animal hospital, park and pet salons are all within walking distance.

Properties such as this one, which comes under developer Asahi Kasei’s premier Hebel Haus brand, are a new frontier: the rental market has largely been stubbornly pet resistant and many tenancy agreements include a strict no-animal clause. “In Japan, the number of pets exceeds the number of children under the age of 15,” says Tetsuya Watanabe from Asahi Kasei. “Despite this shift, there remains a shortage of rental housing where people can live with their pets.”

Hebel Haus saw the business potential and now has about 3,000 pet-minded buildings, comprising 19,000 residential units, primarily across Tokyo, Hiroshima and Osaka. Its rental properties range from one-bedroom apartments to three-bedroom flats for families. The brand’s mission to promote a “pet-friendly society” was boosted last year by its presence at the Interpet trade fairs in Tokyo and Osaka, where crowds queued for information and a cute photograph of their animal.

Fluffy, a pet property brand under developer Profitz, is pursuing the same goal, with four buildings and 87 rental units in central Tokyo. “In many so-called animal-friendly rental properties, pet owners and non-owners tend to live side-by-side, which can sometimes create friction around rules and daily routines,” says Daisuke Ishida, the business director of Profitz. “At the same time, particularly in urban areas, more and more people want to live with pets so there is a clear gap in the market for housing designed specifically for them. This inspired the concept of designing homes with animals in mind from the outset, aiming to improve the quality of life for both owners and their pets.”

Every Fluffy property is equipped with features similar to those offered by Hebel Haus, from paw-washing stations, slip-resistant flooring and special wall finishes to hooks for leads, safety gates to prevent intrepid animals from darting outside and the all-important deodorising technology. Some properties also offer monitoring cameras and environmental sensors, as well as custom pet furniture. Residents receive complimentary access to round-the-clock veterinary care, preferential rates at affiliated pet hotels and priority notifications for vacancies when relocating between Fluffy properties.

Though tenants have to pay a pet premium, demand has been high and vacancies are rare. “Compared to conventional rentals, these properties tend to attract tenant profiles with a higher household income,” says Ishida. He says that Fluffy’s core audience consists of dual-income couples in their thirties and forties without children, couples in their fifties and high-income single professionals.

Creating thoughtful, animal-inclusive residences has been good for the Hebel Haus business too. After a tentative start in the pet-property game about 20 years ago, the brand is expanding and finessing its offer. There is strong demand from owners of medium-sized and large dogs, as well as people who own more than one pet. Cat owners are also turning out to be a bigger consumer group than expected.

Meanwhile, Fluffy’s tenants have been offering feedback, including calls for pet-sitting and dog-walking services, professional photography, animal-friendly car sharing and events such as yoga sessions or small concerts where furry friends are welcome. “What the residents tell us is revealing,” says Ishida.“They feel more at ease knowing that their neighbours are also pet lovers. These animals naturally foster connections, encouraging conversation and a stronger sense of community.”
hebel-haus.com

The Cinephile’s 2026 checklist: A Berlin icon, a Brazilian hit and the Criterion closet

1.
Our favourite cinema
Zoo Palast
Berlin

Cynics might fret over the future of cinemas but Berlin’s Zoo Palast is proof of the enduring appeal of premium environments showing great films. Of its seven screens, the spacious Berlinale festival favourite, Saal 1, is our top pick; those in the know say that seat H22 is its sweet spot, positioned at just the right angle for the best view and clearest sound.

Beloved for its heritage architecture, Zoo Palast has a long bar that serves proper cocktails, snacks and coffee. Our recommendation? Order the Hugo (sparkling wine, elderflower, mint) and a serving of freshly popped corn (salty, of course). Despite its sense of history, Zoo Palast is no relic.

The cinema combines the full 1950s movie-palace experience with cutting-edge projection and sound (Dolby Atmos has been installed for the main screen). It’s European cinema at its very best.
zoopalast.premiumkino.de

2.
Film to watch
‘The Secret Agent’
Brazil

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences doesn’t dish out a prize for the year’s coolest film but, but if it did, Kleber Mendonça Filho’s political crime thriller The Secret Agent would be a deserving winner. It follows a university professor (Wagner Moura) during Brazil’s years under dictatorship as he travels from São Paulo to the seaside city of Recife during Carnival, hoping to reunite with his son.

The film’s healthy dose of satire keeps it from being too po-faced and, despite its historical setting, it was shaped by more recent events. “I was writing about the 1970s but living in the madness of the Bolsonaro years,” says Mendonça Filho. “A lot of the energy in the film came from that crazy, dreadful moment in contemporary Brazilian history.”

Last year, I’m Still Here, directed by Walter Salles, won Brazil its first Academy Award for best international feature and The Secret Agent scooped the most prizes at Cannes, including for best actor and best director.

Whether Mendonça Filho’s picture wins big at the Oscars or not, it’s the latest sign that there’s a growing appetite for Brazilian cinematic flair across the globe.

‘The Secret Agent’ is in cinemas now. Listen to the full interview with Kleber Mendonça Filho and Wagner Moura on Monocle Radio.

3.
The movie curator
Criterion Collection
New York

Streaming services haven’t killed off physical media completely and for that we can partly thank the Criterion Collection. Since 1984, the New York-based company has been dedicated to preserving some of the most important films – from classics to new releases – in physical formats. Some of this year’s Oscar nominees are already scheduled to get the Criterion treatment, including Sentimental Value and The Secret Agent.

Criterion has released films on formats from laser disc to DVD and Blu-ray (the organisation also has its own streaming channel). If a picture is selected to enter the collection, it’s an affirmation of its historical and cultural significance. The label has maintained its own relevance with its savvy social media presence – the popular Criterion Closet series features filmmakers and actors picking their favourite titles off the well-stocked shelves in the company’s New York headquarters. For film lovers, these video shorts are guaranteed to be inspiring (if a little envy-inducing too).
criterion.com

The star maker’s long game: Why casting director Nina Gold is the film industry’s new standard

Casting directors have always shaped cinema yet their work is rarely acknowledged by the public. Nina Gold is one of the film industry’s most successful star makers, able to spot a future Oscar-winner at 50 paces. And, this year, she might be on course to win one of her own. When the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced that it would launch a prize for Best Casting, many felt that it was long overdue. 

For Gold, whose career spans Game of Thrones, The Crown, Wolf Hall and Hamnet – for which she has received an inaugural nomination – the recognition lands with quiet satisfaction. “It’s fantastic,” she says, smiling over a cup of tea at her London office. “Casting directors did a lot of lobbying for many years. It felt like the right moment.” Gold is a warm, nurturing figure who takes her responsibility for the wellbeing of up-and-coming child stars just as seriously as maintaining the career momentum of industry legends.

She is quick to laugh and has a penchant for witty self-deprecation. Her work in casting began “entirely accidentally”: as a student, a friend asked her to be an extra in a music video and she was intrigued by the machinery behind it. “I thought, ‘God, this looks fabulous,’” says Gold. “I wanted to be one of those people.” Soon she was learning on the job in an era when “the only requirement was being willing to work for 48 hours without sleep”.

Moving on to larger projects, Gold was hooked by the mysterious chemistry between what was on the page and the person who brought it to life. Slowly, through working on commercials, then television and film, she built a career defined by passion for the form and curiosity about its different approaches. A pivotal collaboration came with Mike Leigh, first on commercials and then on the musical period drama Topsy-Turvy. Leigh’s famously exploratory process – developing characters through months of improvisation – sounds like a casting director’s nightmare but Gold describes it as education. “He has an encyclopaedic knowledge of British actors and a particular angle on acting,” she says. “He has taught me so much.”

Gold is careful with the language of “discovery” but certain names recur: John Boyega, who she cast in Attack the Block for his debut role after a gruelling audition process; Eddie Redmayne, who she championed for The Theory of Everything; Claire Foy, who had long been at the edges of stardom before The Crown changed everything. 

What sustains Gold is her long-term outlook. “People come back,” she says. “Claire [Foy] is a perfect example. She was always wonderful but it took the right moment.” Auditioning, she acknowledges, is “hell”. Despite the amount of rejections a role requires, “You want every actor who walks into the room to do well.”

Technology has changed the mechanics of casting – emailed self-tapes have replaced VHS tapes sent by couriers – but not its essence. But the talent pool has grown dauntingly large with the opening up of the industry. “There are so many more actors than there are roles,” says Gold. “If you’re a brilliant 28-year-old actress, there might be 700 others just like you.” Drama school remains useful, she notes, but no longer definitive. While pathways into acting have become varied, sustaining a career is more precarious than ever.

The biggest stars have “offer-only” status, which means that they don’t have to audition. She shrugs at the hierarchy. When it comes to selecting actors from this echelon, Gold draws on her “bank of knowledge” about their suitability, developed through 35 years of experience. But there are exceptions. Oscar-nominated Irish actor Paul Mescal came in for a chemistry read opposite Jessie Buckley in Hamnet. “He’s an incredibly modest non-egomaniac who is just not an arsehole. A brilliant actor,” says Gold.

As for the Oscar nomination, Gold treats it as a collective milestone rather than a personal victory. Even at the top of her game, she admits to not having all the answers. The job is part experience, part instinct, part art and part commerce. But her openness to all those seems to be why she’s so good at what she does. Casting isn’t about certainty. It’s about empathy and having the courage to proceed with a single vision among a thousand possibilities.