The burgundy booths at the Smoke House restaurant have witnessed everything from whispered deals to surprise serenades. Actor George Clooney so loved the place that he named his production company Smokehouse Pictures after the booth where he and Grant  Heslov would scheme over martinis. It’s a fitting tribute to a steakhouse that has served as  Hollywood’s unofficial clubhouse since 1946. 

The restaurant began as a 46-seat chophouse at the corner of Pass Avenue and Riverside,  frequented by stars like Bob Hope and Bing Crosby. Three years later, it moved to a  Tudor-style inn across from Warner Bros. Studios and expanded again in 1955 under architect Wayne McAllister, growing to 18,000 square feet. Today it seats more than 500  people amid fireplaces, director’s chairs, and classic movie posters. A neon sign outside still flashes the motto “fine food at a fair price,” a promise that has endured since 1946. 

For decades, the Smoke House has blurred the line between reality and the silver screen.  Casts from “Friends” and “ER” gathered here after taping, while Judy Garland and  Robert Redford were among its many regulars. Live music fills the lounge on weekends,  drawing performers like Joni Mitchell, who celebrated her 80th birthday at the restaurant.  The menu’s icons—prime rib with horseradish, creamy pastas, and that famous garlic cheese bread—remain unchanged, even as the kitchen sources more sustainable ingredients and modernizes its cocktail program. 

Asked how the restaurant stays relevant in a city obsessed with reinvention, Smoke House management says the secret lies in preserving the “soul” of the place while meeting contemporary standards. Dim lighting, red booths, and genuine hospitality create a sense of continuity, while updated service, inclusivity, and sustainable sourcing appeal to modern diners. They describe the steakhouse as an “industry sanctuary” where patrons can finalize deals or rehearse scripts without paparazzi lurking. The management team sees the restaurant as a bridge between eras, a living link where veteran directors and young actors share garlic cheese bread and stories. 

The upcoming 80th anniversary celebration embodies that philosophy. In October, the  Smoke House will revive its 1946 Throwback Menu—pricing signature dishes at $19.46—and host curated events that lean into its Old Hollywood roots. The restaurant will launch digital storytelling projects to capture the memories of longtime staff and patrons and continue its support of the Burbank International Film Festival, ensuring that future filmmakers will have a place to call home. “We aren’t just celebrating a date on a calendar; we’re celebrating 80 years of being a cornerstone of the community,”  management said. 

After 80 years, the Smoke House remains a rare constant in Los Angeles: a steakhouse where the past and present collide, where garlic bread is as legendary as the stars who dine there, and where the next chapter of Hollywood history is just a booth away.

Written in partnership with Tom White

There’s a certain kind of artist you don’t fully understand in one listen, not because they’re confusing, but because there’s more going on beneath the surface. Lili Harbit is one of those artists.

Based in Poland, Lili Harbit (born Liliya Maslakova) isn’t just a singer-songwriter trying to break into pop; she’s someone shaping her work from multiple angles. Alongside music, she has a background in psychology and works as a music teacher, and that combination shows up clearly in how she creates. Her songs don’t just aim to sound good, they feel considered, introspective, and emotionally intentional without trying too hard to prove it.

At a time when a lot of emerging pop can feel fast and disposable, her approach leans in the opposite direction, slower, more reflective, and quietly immersive.

A Visual Language That Matches the Music

A big part of Lili’s identity lives on YouTube, where her music videos help define her world just as much as the songs themselves.

There’s a noticeable consistency in how her visuals are put together. They’re minimal, but not empty. Cinematic, but not overproduced. Instead of relying on big concepts or loud aesthetics, her videos focus on mood, soft lighting, stillness, and subtle expressions that carry emotion without spelling everything out.

It feels intentional without feeling forced.

That’s likely where her psychology background plays a role. There’s an understanding of emotional space, knowing when to hold back, when to let a moment breathe, that gives her visuals a kind of quiet confidence.

“Near” and the Shift Toward a Bigger Stage

One of the more defining moments in her recent journey is the release of her single “Near” on VEVO.

For independent artists, a VEVO release still carries weight. It signals a level of professionalism and opens the door to a wider, more global audience. But beyond the platform itself, “Near” feels like a step forward creatively.

The track leans into atmosphere, soft, emotionally driven, and built around presence rather than intensity. Her vocals don’t overpower the song; they sit inside it, letting the mood lead. It’s the kind of track that doesn’t demand attention loudly, but holds it if you stay.

You can tell it matters to her. Not just as a release, but as a marker, something that represents where she is right now as an artist.

Sound, Emotion, and Control

What stands out most about Lili Harbit’s music is how involved she is in shaping it.

She isn’t just writing and singing, she performs within her own arrangements, which gives her sound a sense of cohesion that’s hard to fake. Everything feels like it belongs together because it’s coming from the same place.

Her style sits somewhere within contemporary pop, but it’s softened by atmospheric production and a focus on emotion over structure. The themes she leans into , inner change, connection, growth , could easily feel generic in another artist’s hands, but here they feel more personal, more internal.

Not dramatic. Not exaggerated. Just… honest.

The Teacher Behind the Artist

Outside of her own music, Lili also works as a teacher, and that part of her life doesn’t feel separate from her artistry.

If anything, it strengthens it.

There’s a groundedness in the way she approaches music, both technically and emotionally. Her teaching seems to focus not just on skill, but on expression, helping people understand how to feel music, not just perform it.

That dual role, artist and mentor, adds another layer to who she is. It’s not just about building her own career, but also shaping how others experience music.

Growing Quietly, But Intentionally

On platforms like Instagram, her presence follows the same pattern as her music: consistent, understated, and real.

She shares her work, moments from her process, and glimpses into her creative mindset without over-packaging it. There’s no sense of trying too hard to go viral or fit into trends. Instead, it feels like she’s building something slowly, an audience that connects with her for the right reasons.

And that might be her biggest strength.

A Different Kind of Pop Artist

Lili Harbit doesn’t come across like someone chasing the typical version of pop success. She’s not loud about what she’s doing, and she’s not trying to fit into a pre-defined mold.

Instead, she’s building her own space, one that blends music, emotion, psychology, and visual storytelling in a way that feels personal and sustainable.

“Near” might be one of her first bigger steps onto a global stage, but it doesn’t feel like a sudden shift. It feels like a natural progression.

And if anything, that’s what makes her interesting to watch, not just where she is right now, but where this slow, intentional build might take her next.

Written in partnership with Tom White

Art is often a collaborative process, and becomes almost invariably so as projects grow larger and more ambitious. The film industry is a prime example of this; small independent films can get by with a small team, but any kind of blockbuster or even mid-sized movie requires the work of dozens, if not hundreds, of collaborators. From ideation, through early filming and production, to editing, and even—if not especially—during the release window, films succeed on the backs of collaborative teams working toward a shared vision. This is as true for horror movies and action movies as it is for biopics and documentaries. 

It’s that collaborative spirit that makes filming documentary projects so engaging and fulfilling, at least according to the award-winning filmmaker David Anthony Ngo. As both a writer and director of documentary and narrative films, David Anthony Ngo has created films shown around the world, including at festivals like the Sundance Film Festival. He’s the winner of the PBS Human Spirit Award, and has been nominated for both the WeScreenplay Diverse Voices and the Tracking Board Launch Pad competitions. Most recently he helmed Never Get Busted! a Sundance featured film following the infamous Texas lawman who turned on the police. 

The process behind putting together award-winning documentary projects is multifaceted and involves a great many people. Even after release, the process of taking these films to major international festivals has a lot of moving parts; taking a film from concept to the festival circuit is one of the most challenging artistic collaborative efforts that exists today. That’s part of what makes it so engaging and fulfilling, at least for David Anthony Ngo. 

“I have met hundreds, perhaps thousands, of filmmakers throughout the years at film festivals all over the world, and have found a shared passion and struggle for the medium that is inspiring,” Anthony Ngo says. “Making a movie is always a challenge. Making one independently requires an enormous amount of risk, dedication and hard work.” 

Inspired By Stories, Driven By Teams

While he’s now an internationally recognized and award winning writer and director, David Anthony Ngo started the same way every filmmaker does: small. He fell in love with watching murder mysteries—which would later become his genre of choice—and Hitchcock films with his grandmother, and would spend weekends going through piles of video tapes from the local store for new experiences. By the time he was watching The Big Lebowski as a teenager, he’d realized that the art form he loved so much was one he could contribute to. 

“I soon bought a small DV camera and started making short films on weekends,” Anthony Ngo recalls. “They weren’t great, but with each I got a bit better, learned the craft more, and bit by bit started to bridge the taste gap—that enormous divide between your artistic intention and the end result.”

As the years passed and his filmmaking career developed, Anthony Ngo learned that there is nothing more essential to the art than collaboration. In his words, the most unique thing about filmmaking is that it is a collaborative process; editors, producers, writers, directors, actors, cinematographers, and more are all crucial members of the team. Even during his formative career working as an editor, Anthony Ngo believed that it wasn’t about professional titles, but making sure the best idea wins. It’s a mindset he carries to this day. 

“Unfortunately, the industry puts too much focus on directors as a singular creative force,” he explains. “That’s simply not true. It’s always a team effort. Writers often initiate the project and key creatives help interpret it. So when I collaborate, I always try to keep that in mind. If someone else has a better idea, it’s best to drop the ego and take the win.”

From Concept To Festival Debut

Like any artist, David Anthony Ngo has his own unique creative process when it comes to filmmaking. Most of his films are rooted in true stories, often true crime stories, because they often inherently carry with them the ingredients of a good story for film: a great premise, interesting characters, and high stakes. However, whether it’s a documentary or not, it always starts with a story, a flash of inspiration, a driving idea that fascinates him enough to be interested over the years it’ll take to write, direct, and release the film. 

Once the illuminating idea has been discovered and chosen, the real work begins. Research makes up the majority of the early process, which often leads to multiple early rewrites on its own. Anthony Ngo usually starts with a beat sheet that maps out the major characters and plot points, giving necessary structure to the story before he fleshes it out into a longer form outline or script. These early stages can take over a year on their own, before any preparation for shooting begins. Once it’s done, Anthony Ngo will seek out feedback from trusted peers, then send it out to potential production partners and financiers. 

“In ‘Never Get Busted’, the co-creator Erin Williams-Weir and I saw a short video with the lead subject Barry Cooper, and were instantly hooked,” Anthony Ngo says. “Once we’d fleshed out the story, we sent it out to some Executive Producers in the space and were very fortunate it got in the hands of John Battsek (Academy Award Winner ‘Searching For Sugar Man’) and Chris Smith (‘Tiger King’) who saw the potential and jumped on board. It was an enormous undertaking that took 6 years of blood, sweat, and tears to finish.”

From its earliest spark to its final form, David Anthony Ngo was deeply embedded in every layer of the project—shaping the story from the ground up, personally connecting with subjects to build an intimate, observational lens that feels lived-in rather than constructed. What followed wasn’t just a production timeline, but a many years-long personal commitment, as he poured significant parts of his life into bringing the film to completion, taking on the uncertainty and risk that comes with independent storytelling.

Documentary work demands unwavering commitment from start to finish. While others stepped away when the process became too hard, the film was carried forward by those with the strength to never give up—through years of uncertainty, travel, and relentless effort. Alongside Emmy Award nominee Julian Hart (‘Tinder Swindler’) and a small edit team, David Anthony Ngo worked relentlessly combing through hundreds of hours of archival material and interviews to shape a story that resonates emotionally while maintaining a sharp, compelling edge.

Once the movie was complete, taking it into the international film festival circuit was only a logical next step. Festivals like Sundance are one of the few avenues independent filmmakers have to seek exposure, especially as distribution networks and studios have become more risk averse. Festivals are a way for smaller budget films to get attention and prove audience engagement—which can then lead to those networks distributing and screening the film. It’s a hard gauntlet to run, but every success makes it worth it. 

“Tenacity is the number one characteristic of any good filmmaker,” David Anthony Ngo says. “You’ll hear a million ‘no’s,’ be told you can’t do it, tell yourself you can’t do it, have people try to stop you from doing it—and still need to get up every morning and persevere. The world is always hungry for an engrossing story. Technology changes all the time, but if you’re a great storyteller, everything else can be learned.”

Written in partnership with Tom White