Chris Broughton

Sam Neill and Julian Dennison recall making Taika Waititi’s Hunt for the Wilderpeople, describing the film’s blend of comedy and grief, the warmth of the cast and the improvisational process behind several scenes. They discuss the improvised birthday song, Neill’s difficult relationship with the dog playing Zag, the puppet pig used for the wild-boar attack and filming on Ngāti Rangi land. Dennison reflects on playing Ricky Baker and working with Neill, while Neill rejects the idea that Dennison “stole” the film, saying it was always Ricky’s story.

A portrait session with former Brazilian football star Jairzinho in a Rio favela unfolds amid local security tensions as photographer Michael Donald recounts capturing the shot while a crew member faced a gun threat from a passerby. Donald describes the project documenting World Cup final goal scorers, his photographic approach, and the contrast between the calm image and the chaos occurring behind the camera.

A photograph by Daniel Malikyar captures a Kyrgyz girl named Shargha calmly milking a yak in the remote Pamir Mountains, reflecting his mission to portray Afghanistan with dignity beyond common narratives of conflict. Malikyar describes his personal connection to Afghan culture, the influence of his family’s history, and his effort to present authentic and collaborative depictions of everyday life. He emphasizes the cultural context of the region, the nomadic lifestyle, and his approach to photographing children at eye level to convey a sense of power. As restrictions on photography in Afghanistan increase, he sees this work as increasingly significant and meaningful, especially for his family. His book, “Afghanistan,” will be published by teNeues in August.

Nick Heyward describes writing Fantastic Day as a spontaneous, youthful moment shaped by early musical influences and evolving lyrics, later enhanced in the studio with production touches referencing the Beatles. Les Nemes reflects on initially disliking the track despite its role in securing the band’s record deal, noting its stylistic evolution from a raw, early version to a polished pop song. Both musicians recall the song’s lasting emotional impact on audiences, including fans who credit it with helping them through difficult times.

Photographer Mads Nissen discusses a 2017 photograph of nine-year-old Didiller Angulo playing basketball in Potrero Grande, a poor Cali neighborhood located along a major cocaine-trafficking corridor. He describes how Colombia’s persistent poverty, absent role models and gang influence shape children’s prospects, and says he later heard—without confirmation—that Didiller had been killed. Nissen explains that his wider project, Sangre Blanca: The Lost War on Cocaine, examines the entire cocaine supply chain while avoiding stereotypes about Colombia, including the roles of coca farmers, laborers, police, soldiers, gangs and cartel members. He also contrasts the risks faced by people involved in the trade with the reluctance of European cocaine consumers to be photographed or discuss their use.

Photographer Hollie Fernando discusses her portrait of Boss Morris, an all-female morris-dancing group from Stroud, photographed during a summer-solstice practice on Rodborough Common. The project celebrates women reshaping a historically male-dominated tradition, with costumes, floral face decorations and the Caprihorn goat character creating a contemporary folklore aesthetic. Fernando explains the influence of pre-Raphaelite painting, her use of medium-format film and the project’s title, “Hoydenish,” while reflecting on her ambition to start a female morris side in Brighton.

Photographer Aaron Favila recounts rushing through severe flooding in Bulacan, Philippines, to photograph Jamaica and Jade’s wedding at the flooded Barásoain Church. Although the couple had been warned that the church would likely be underwater, they proceeded with their plans, drawing on their familiarity with flood-prone communities. Favila’s image of the bride wading toward the church, with her lace train floating in the water, went viral and later contributed to his recognition as a 2026 World Press Photo winner. He says the photographs resonated because they conveyed love, joy and resilience amid disaster.

Dafydd Ieuan and Gruff Rhys recount how Super Furry Animals developed “The Man Don’t Give a Fuck” from a Steely Dan lyric into a long, politically charged protest song. After sample-clearance problems and a disputed royalty arrangement, the track was released through Creation Records and unexpectedly received airplay in Australia despite its repeated profanity. Its criticism of establishment power evolved through references to Thatcher, George W. Bush, Tony Blair and Bill Hicks, while controversial live performances—including a Baltimore egging and an incident at Glastonbury—helped make it the band’s customary closing number.

Photographer Todd Antony describes traveling to Tajikistan to document buzkashi, a chaotic and physically brutal horseback sport in which riders compete to carry a headless goat over a goal line. He explains how local logistics, mountain landscapes, dust, fog and rapidly changing conditions shaped his black-and-white images, including a tightly framed portrait of three horses and riders. Antony says the work explores attempts to find control within chaos while documenting a sport embedded in Tajik culture rather than normalizing its violence. He won the Sport category at the 2026 Sony World Photography Awards, with the accompanying exhibition held at Somerset House in London.

Photographer Soulla Petrou recalls a 1994 photo shoot with an unknown Geri Halliwell, who was styled as Barbarella before becoming a member of the Spice Girls. Petrou describes the shoot’s 1960s and 1970s feminist-pop-culture influences, her use of cross-processed film, and Halliwell’s ambition and focus. Several images later appeared in Petrou’s book Rewind, while Halliwell subsequently reposted the photographs and praised their depiction of her early dreams of pop stardom.

Artist Lisl Ponger explains how her staged photograph Danse Macabre uses plague doctors, rats, carnival masks and Covid imagery to explore the pandemic, social-distancing rules, colonialism and political responsibility. Made in Vienna in summer 2021 with actors and dancers, the image includes references to Brazil’s treatment of Indigenous people, Pedro de Alvarado’s conquest in Guatemala and unusual distancing guidance from countries including Austria and the US. Ponger describes the challenging, overheated shoot and argues that photographs should be both visually compelling and intellectually layered.

Photographer Miranda Barnes discusses a photograph of young women resting on the floor while waiting to be presented at a Black debutante ball in Detroit. She explains the history and contemporary role of Black cotillions, the months of etiquette and dance preparation involved, and her four-year effort to build trust with participants and their families. The events combine formal traditions, education and community aspirations with the relaxed energy of teenagers, revealing both the ceremony’s structure and the participants’ youthful identity.

Six people from different generations and occupations describe contrasting relationships with screens. A 16-year-old limits phone use to less than an hour a day and avoids social media because of its effects on mental health and privacy, while an 85-year-old relies on WhatsApp to stay connected with family and local groups despite feeling drawn into excessive messaging. A priest uses TikTok to engage potential churchgoers, a mother spends about four hours a day playing the strategy game Puzzles & Chaos, and a tech CEO credits abandoning his smartphone, social media and Slack with helping him recover from depression and regain time for family. By contrast, a social media manager spends much of her waking day online, experiencing physical discomfort, exhaustion and anxiety alongside the professional rewards and reach of viral content. Together, their accounts show that screen use can provide connection, work, creativity and community, but can also encourage compulsive habits, distraction, stress and reduced offline engagement.

Photographer Rod Morris recounts taking a tense photograph of people queuing with documents in La Paz during Bolivia’s 1993 election, amid fears that the incoming government would seize unregistered land. Plainclothes police detained and interrogated him, attempted to confiscate his film, and assaulted him as a warning. The previously unpublished image later became part of his Still Films series, which explores the cinematic and ambiguous qualities of documentary photography.

Senior aviculturist Marianne Wellington describes raising crane chicks at the International Crane Foundation in Wisconsin while wearing elaborate crane costumes to prevent the birds from imprinting on humans. Staff use puppet heads, recorded calls and crane-like movements to teach chicks feeding, social behaviour and flight skills, including preparation for release into the wild. Although 10 of the world’s 15 crane species remain threatened, whooping crane numbers have risen from fewer than 25 to more than 800, and the foundation ultimately hopes to restore self-sustaining populations raised by real cranes.

Photographer Beezer recounts taking a striking mid-1980s photograph of maintenance workers changing lightbulbs on top of Bristol’s Clifton Suspension Bridge. He describes overcoming vertigo to reach the bridge tower, where workers climbed the suspension chains without visible safety equipment, and reflects that modern health-and-safety rules would make such a scene unlikely. The image became one of his best-known photographs, was displayed around Bristol, and now serves as both a record of changing working practices and a reminder of photography’s ability to preserve people and places.

Photographer Hannah Modigh discusses a portrait of Carter Taylor carrying a snake in St Charles, Virginia, explaining how her long relationship with the Taylor family began during an early visit to the Appalachian coal-mining town. She describes the area’s economic decline, the family’s deep connection to the mountains, and the themes of intimacy, heritage, social structures, time and memory that shape her work. The photograph forms part of her new series The Wild Horses at Bonny Blue, inspired by a feral mountain herd whose strong social bonds reminded her of the Taylor family.

Photographer Mattia Zoppellaro explains how an accidental moment produced his striking portrait of Paralympic powerlifter Donato Telesca. Commissioned by the Italian Paralympic Committee to photograph athletes before the 2024 Paris Paralympics, Zoppellaro photographed Telesca resting on a studio floor from atop a ladder, creating an image that appears to show him defying gravity. Zoppellaro describes his preference for spontaneous, documentary-style photography and his decision to leave studio elements such as the ladder wheel and tape visible. Telesca later won bronze at the Paralympics and reacted enthusiastically to the image.

John Carpenter recalls making Dark Star with Dan O’Bannon as a low-budget student science-fiction comedy inspired by Dr Strangelove and 2001: A Space Odyssey. He describes building sets from improvised materials, filming intermittently over three years and creating the alien from a beachball, while recounting contributions from the cast and crew. The film’s poor initial reception helped inspire O’Bannon’s later screenplay for Alien. Carpenter also reflects on Dark Star’s continuing relevance, particularly its satire of militarism, technological control and artificial intelligence.

Photographer Curran Hatleberg recalls moving from New York to Eureka, California, in 2013 for a teaching position and finding the region’s rugged landscapes and transient community an ideal setting for his work. He describes the trust and mutual vulnerability required to photograph people, and explains how a chance encounter involving an alley, daisies, puppies and a woman with a gas can produced his favourite image from Lost Coast. For Hatleberg, photography transforms everyday disorder into open-ended moments that invite viewers to create their own narratives.