Goodable

Great news! Greece is making waves around the world by transforming 287 beaches into fully wheelchair-accessible paradises. This free, Greek-designed technology provides unassisted access to the sea for beach-goers who may have difficulty accessing the water.
147 beaches have been transformed so far into fully accessible havens, complete with essential facilities like parking, bathrooms, changing rooms, and ramps. With the support of the European Union and national resources, the project is on track to make all 287 beaches accessible, allowing people with disabilities and mobility issues to enjoy the sand, sea and sun with their loved ones.<img src="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FvDqV_lXwAALj_L?format=jpg&amp;name=4096x4096" style="width: 100%;">At a press conference, Tourism Minister Vassilis Kikilias emphasized that "equal access to the sea is an inalienable human right." By enhancing the quality of life for those with disabilities and limited mobility, these fully accessible beaches are promoting physical and mental health and wellness for all.

But the benefits don't stop there. Fully accessible beaches also contribute to the local economy, attracting visitors with disabilities and limited mobility. This project is just one example of the country's ongoing commitment to accessibility for all. Iconic landmarks like the Acropolis are being transformed for people with disabilities.

Greece is Making Hundreds of Beaches Wheelchair Accessible

BBC News

Before Howard arrived, eight-year-old Piper’s world felt small. Crowded places overwhelmed her. Social situations often sent her running. Even short car journeys left her dysregulated and exhausted. Her mum, Laura, described life as “difficult, challenging and restrictive,” the kind of constant planning that squeezes the spontaneity out of family life.

Then came Howard.

The black labrador, trained through the Support Dogs charity in Sheffield, joined the family after a long matching process — fittingly, on Piper’s dad’s birthday. And from the moment he padded into their home, Laura said everything shifted. “Her world was a little bit smaller and a little less colourful, until Howard came along,” she said.

Howard works as Piper’s autism support dog, unbothered by noise, movement or unpredictable moments. “He’s not phased by any unusual sounds or noises or behaviour so we felt really confident with him around our children,” Laura said.

The change has been steady and unmistakable. Piper used to manage only 10 minutes in the car before becoming overwhelmed. Now, she can handle longer journeys and enjoys outings to the cinema, the shops and even birthday parties. School, once a daily struggle that required physical assistance from teachers, has become more manageable.

Laura said Howard’s presence reshaped the family’s day-to-day life. “We can't imagine life without Howard now. He’s part of the family and I know that Piper is safer when she's with Howard because she's more regulated.”

Piper feels it too. She says Howard notices when she’s distressed and responds the way a best friend does — with hugs, kisses and quiet comfort. “Having Howard means we can access a lot more things,” her mum said. “It’s easier, we have a bit more freedom and Piper’s more relaxed so she enjoys things a little more.”

The challenges of autism haven’t disappeared. “Those sudden decisions, those impulses are still there,” Laura said. But now, instead of spiralling, Piper turns to Howard. He anchors her. He gives her a way back to calm.

Piper just calls him “really, really special.” And for this family in Etwall, that special bond has opened up a wider, brighter world.

Support Dog Helps 8-Year-Old Girl Cope With Autism

Talker News

If there’s such a thing as a victimless crime, returning your library books 50 years late might be it. Especially when the fines get wiped out somewhere along the way.

That’s what happened with a pair of antique books written nearly 200 years ago, which finally made their way back to Leeds Central Library after vanishing in March 1976. They didn’t resurface in an attic or a long-forgotten box. Instead, they appeared in a charity shop in Beverley, East Yorkshire, where staff spotted the Leeds library stamp and realised they were holding something special.

The books, written in 1836 by pioneering geologist Rev William Buckland, are thick with intricate drawings of fossils and prehistoric creatures. They were created at a time when scientists were only just starting to decipher Earth’s ancient history. Buckland himself produced the first full scientific account of a fossilised dinosaur in 1824 and proved that North Yorkshire’s Kirkdale Cave had once been a prehistoric hyena den.

Leeds library staff were stunned to learn the long-lost volumes still existed.

“It was a huge surprise to find out that these beautiful books had somehow turned up in such an unlikely place after all these years,” librarian Sally Hughes said. “We’re delighted to have them back home at the library, even if they are half a century late. We’ll never know who it was who borrowed them and why, but it speaks volumes about how interesting and influential Rev Buckland’s observations were that enthusiasts were clearly still keen to read them more than a century after they were written.”

The mystery borrower avoided what could have been a jaw-dropping bill. Before fines were scrapped in 2019, many UK libraries charged about 20p to 25p per day for overdue books. At that rate, each volume would have racked up more than £3,500 over 50 years, or more than £7,000 combined. In practice, most councils capped fines at around £10 to £15 per item, which means the total would have topped out around £30.

Still, it’s hard to beat the satisfaction of returning a book five decades overdue and being welcomed without so much as a raised eyebrow.

“It’s astonishing that these books have turned up after so much time and we’re grateful to everyone involved in their safe return,” said Cllr Asghar Khan.

For now, the books are back where they belong, with experts giving them a careful once-over. Silence in the library — even the long-lost volumes have finally obeyed the rules.

Two Library Books Turn Up 50 Years Late — And No One Owes a Penny

ABC News

It’s not every day you see a grown man in Indianapolis rocking a newborn to sleep with the kind of laser-focus usually reserved for bomb squads and first dates. But there was JaKobi Burton, gently patting his 1-month-old daughter on the back, making good on a promise he’d made long before she was born.

His commitment started months earlier, when he showed up to every prenatal appointment and signed himself up for classes with Dads to Doulas, a program from Dear Fathers that teaches Black dads-to-be how to support their partners physically, mentally and spiritually before and after childbirth.

Burton and his wife, Crystal Wilmot-Burton, went into the pregnancy knowing the risks. They were in their 40s, but the bigger concern was something they couldn’t control. Federal data shows Black women are almost 3.5 times more likely than white women to die around childbirth. The numbers are bleak enough that some dads, like Burton, say they feel a responsibility to learn everything they can.

“I want you to know that I was involved and that I was looking out for you from the very beginning, and I’m always going to be your biggest protector,” Burton told his daughter. “That’s what I did from the beginning of this experience, trying to learn as much as I could.”

The reasons behind the mortality gap range from racism in hospitals to unequal access to prenatal care. Two viral cellphone videos this year, including one in Indiana, showed staff dismissing the concerns of Black women in labor. The disparities show up starkly in federal data: in 2023, Black women suffered 50.3 deaths per 100,000 live births. The rate for white women was 14.5. Hispanic and Asian women faced 12.4 and 10.7.

Against those numbers, health advocates say one overlooked factor can make a difference: fathers. Programs around the country are starting to put resources directly into the hands of dads-to-be, hoping their presence can shift outcomes.

The National Healthy Start Association, created in 1998 to improve maternal and infant health, now has fatherhood practitioners at 116 sites. They offer everything from webinars to texting support and even cooking lessons. Kenneth Scarborough, who has worked as the group’s fatherhood and men’s health consultant for a decade, says attitudes are changing.

“There’s more research that is being done to be able to change those narratives, without a shadow of a doubt,” Scarborough said. The bigger problem, he added, is “still getting these institutions to understand the value of making sure that Dad is there and he is at the table.”

Doctors, advocates say, still tend to treat Black fathers like props at best and threats at worst. Dr. Ndidiamaka Amutah-Onukagha, founder of the Center of Black Maternal Health and Reproductive Justice at Tufts University, says she has heard “countless anecdotes” of dads being pushed to the sidelines during appointments, even though research connects engaged fathers to better outcomes.

She added that society still stereotypes Black fathers as “scary and rough,” a perception that seeps into exam rooms. Meanwhile, Black families are often told to find an OB-GYN who understands their experiences. Wilmot-Burton did exactly that.

“I thought maybe she would be more caring, be more willing to listen to my issues, which she was,” she said.

But Black doctors are still rare in obstetrics. Out of the country’s roughly 43,700 practicing OB-GYNs, only 7.5 percent are Black women and just 2.3 percent are Black men, according to 2023 data from the American Medical Association and Association of American Medical Colleges.

That scarcity puts pressure on programs that bring dads into the process. Deborah Frazier, the CEO of National Healthy Start, says medical organizations need to drop outdated assumptions about absentee fathers. “We have data and interviews with fathers, and those fathers have told us that they wanted to be there with their partners, and they wanted be present for their births,” she said.

Some of the push comes from families who experienced the worst outcomes. In 2017, Charles Johnson IV founded 4Kira4Moms after his wife, Kira, bled to death during a cesarean section at Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles. Johnson later sued the hospital, saying she died because of a culture of racism. The group now trains fathers to stay calm but assertive in medical settings.

“What if you happen to be 6-foot-5 and 200-something pounds? If you speak up, what’s gonna happen?” said the group’s executive director, Gabrielle Albert. “Let’s role-play conversations. How do you push back against the doctor?”

That type of preparation is exactly what Burton found helpful. Two months before his daughter, Phoenix, arrived, he sat in a Dads to Doulas workshop holding a Black baby doll while facilitator Kyra Betts Patton walked the group through the research. She told them present fathers can help reduce the chances of premature births. She reminded them that the riskiest window for maternal mortality is 43 to 100 days after delivery, when no one is around as consistently as the partner.

Burton left those classes with a checklist of questions he brought to every appointment. “I pushed hard prior to the delivery to make sure that our birth plan was followed, even though it wasn’t completely. But she (Phoenix) still turned out great and was delivered successfully,” he said. He also took workshops through the Indiana Breastfeeding Coalition.

Wilmot-Burton says his involvement was a steadying force, especially when she felt sick or anxious. “I would encourage other Black women to make sure their partners are on board to attend some classes or read books,” she said, “and definitely go to as many appointments as they can.”

Back at home, Burton kept rocking his daughter as he talked about the months ahead. It turns out the promise he made wasn’t just for the pregnancy. It was for everything after.

Black Fathers are Embracing New Roles in Maternal Health, and It's Transforming Pregnancy Experiences

In a mirrored basement studio in Kharkiv, just 32 kilometers from the Russian border, seven women in their 50s and 60s are practicing jumping splits. They shake silver pompoms to Tom Jones’ “She’s A Lady,” wearing matching Ukraine T-shirts, smiling as if the ground above them isn’t routinely shaken by airstrikes.

They call themselves Sunrise, a competitive cheer squad created not for trophies, but for survival.

“We train no matter what,” says captain Iryna Nesterenko. “When it’s dark, and we’re walking through the street while everything is burning. When there’s no light. I tell my girls: ‘We are the light.’”

The name itself is a reclamation. “We used to be fearful of the sunrise,” Nesterenko says. The full-scale invasion began at dawn, and their city was often bombed at daybreak. She wanted the team to turn that fear into something joyful.

Ukraine has embraced cheerleading since the early 2000s, says Andriy Bolyak, president of the country’s Cheerleading and Cheer Sport Federation. Many teams fled after the 2022 invasion. Today, numbers have rebounded, with new squads forming — including teams made entirely of women over 50. Sunrise, and another team called Nice Ladies, both come from Kharkiv, one of Ukraine’s most heavily targeted cities.

For every Sunrise member, the war left deep emotional marks.

Nesterenko, 63, used to be a competitive gymnast. Her home was bombed in February 2022. “We hid in the basement for five days,” she says. “Then our food ran out, our cat food ran out, everything ran out.” She and her husband fled west with their cats, returning only after Ukrainian troops forced Russian soldiers from the region months later.

Her friend and teammate, chemistry teacher Inna Skryl, says nightly strikes pushed her into depression. “We were bombed every night at the same time,” she says. “We huddled in the hallways.”

The stress was constant. There was no “after,” just the endless now. “You think, tomorrow the war will be over, or in a month, or soon,” Nesterenko says. “But no no no, we are living with this war. So we decided to stop waiting and start living.”

In 2024, Nesterenko brought pompoms to an aerobics class she taught. The moment the group moved in sync, something clicked. “We moved as one, like a united Ukraine, everything synchronized,” she says. “And suddenly cheerleading was the only choice.”

The women renamed themselves Best Friends before finally settling on Sunrise. The emotional lift was immediate.

Economist Halyna Plakhuta, 63, had spent the war as a full-time caretaker and felt physically weakened. She told Nesterenko she had bad knees and a bad arm — hardly cheerleader material. Now she jumps high enough to impress her granddaughter, who made lucky charms for the team’s competitions.

Another teammate, 59-year-old accountant Natalia Pivovarova, cared for her bedridden mother as explosions shattered their windows. Cheerleading, she says, has been her therapy. “My friends abroad call me, saying they’re depressed. And I say, come to Kharkiv. We will heal you.”

The team includes a doctor, an accountant, a beautician who designs their costumes, and a handful of women who admit they never imagined cheerleading in their 60s.

At rehearsals, they dance to ABBA. Nesterenko beams as she leads them. “We are living our best life,” she says. “We may train underground, we may huddle in shelters from bombs, but no matter what, this is going to be our best life.”

Weeks later, they travel to Kyiv for a national competition. Sunrise is the only team in the over-25 age category — a detail they treat as a punchline, not a problem. They arrive in navy leotards dusted with glitter, ready to perform in an arena packed with teenagers and children who cheer them on as if they’re rock stars.

“We always compete to win,” Nesterenko says. “But really, we have already won.”

She isn’t talking about medals. She means the victory of finding joy in a place that tries daily to steal it.

“Look around,” she says. “Listen to all that joy.”

And when Sunrise runs to center stage, the room roars — a reminder that resilience, like cheerleading, is something you can practice until it shines.

Ukrainian Women Over 50 Are Finding Hope and Healing in Cheerleading Amid War's Shadows

Gizmodo

If medical breakthroughs had a “leap of faith” category, this one would be near the top. Scientists have now shown that stem cells can be delivered safely to a fetus still in the womb — and early signs suggest the treatment might help children born with spina bifida live healthier lives.

Researchers at the University of California, Davis conducted the world’s first in-utero stem cell trial for spina bifida, pairing the therapy with prenatal surgery. Six pregnant women took part between 2021 and 2022, each carrying a fetus diagnosed with the condition.

“Putting stem cells into a growing fetus was a total unknown. We are excited to report great safety,” said lead author Diane Farmer, chair of the UC Davis Department of Surgery.

Spina bifida happens when the spine and spinal cord fail to close properly during early development. Even with standard prenatal repair surgery, many children grow up facing serious challenges, from mobility issues to bladder and cognitive complications. Researchers have long wondered whether stem cells — prized for their ability to promote healing — could improve those outcomes.

This trial, called CuRe, offered the first real test. During prenatal surgery, doctors placed a stem-cell patch derived from donor placentas directly onto the exposed spinal tissue before closing the fetal wound.

Phase I trials focus on safety, and this one delivered. There were no signs of tumor formation or other complications tied to the stem cells. Every surgery went smoothly, and all fetal wounds healed fully. The babies were born without infections and showed promising early results. MRI scans revealed that each newborn experienced a reversal of hindbrain herniation, a key indicator that the repair worked. None required a shunt for hydrocephalus before leaving the hospital, another common complication.

The study, published Friday in the Lancet, stops short of declaring long-term success. Researchers will follow the six children as they grow, tracking mobility, independence and neurological outcomes. Still, the early data has generated cautious optimism.

“It paves the way for new treatment options for children with birth defects. The future is exciting for cell and gene therapy before birth,” Farmer said.

That future is already taking shape. UC Davis has begun enrolling participants for a larger Phase I/IIa trial involving 35 children. If results continue to look promising, fetal stem cell therapy could become a major new tool in treating spina bifida — and potentially other conditions that begin before birth.

First-Ever Fetal Stem Cell Trial Offers New Hope for Babies With Spina Bifida

The Guardian

On the edge of a yawning 4-kilometre chasm in the Sicilian town of Niscemi, a library now hangs partly in mid-air — the aftermath of a January landslide that sheared away an entire slope and forced more than 1,600 residents to evacuate. With the building perched so precariously that a section appears suspended above the void, firefighters had to improvise a rescue that felt closer to a movie script than a municipal operation.

Their mission: save about 400 rare books before the structure gives way.

The team began on Monday, after studying floor plans and interior photos to pinpoint exactly where the most valuable shelves stood. Firefighters then drilled through the wall of a building behind the library, entering for only minutes at a time. Once inside, they strapped bookcases together and hauled them backward to reach the volumes. Among the collection are roughly 4,000 works of literature, history and general nonfiction, including editions on Sicilian history published before 1830. One of the most precious pieces is a volume from the 16th century.

“It was like pulling off a bank heist,” said Salvatore Cantale, the provincial fire brigade commander in Caltanissetta. “We had to be quick and try to take away as much as we could.”

Speed wasn’t the only concern. A drone streamed live images overhead, while laser sensors fixed to the section of the building hanging over the drop could detect even slight movement. Another device tracked vibrations and changes in the building’s tilt. The goal was simple: get the books out before the library moved — or fell.

The landslide, which began on 25 January, ripped open asphalt, cracked buildings and swallowed part of a road lined with parked cars. Several structures later collapsed into the void. Geologists working alongside firefighters believe the landslide’s front will retreat another 10 to 15 metres, likely pulling down more buildings, including the library itself.

The basement still holds many of the remaining volumes, but that area is considered the highest risk. Officials are discussing the use of robots to retrieve them, though none are currently available in Niscemi. “If we can find the robot, we’ll use it immediately,” Cantale said. “Otherwise, we’ll have to wait.” He added that because the library is effectively a single reinforced-concrete block, if it collapses, it will fall as one. In an odd twist, that might make recovery of the remaining books easier once the building has slid downhill.

Some of Italy’s most celebrated writers publicly urged authorities to recover the collection, which sits inside what officials call the “black zone.” Stefania Auci, author of The Florios of Sicily, told Adnkronos: “I don’t know whether our appeal truly helped ensure that some of those ancient volumes were saved, but I like to think it played at least a small part.”

For now, the rescued books are safe — a small victory pulled from the edge of a cliff.

Firefighters Pull Off ‘Bank Heist’-Style Rescue to Save Rare Books From Collapsing Sicilian Library

Most 13-year-olds spend their free time glued to a controller. Ryan, from Solihull, spends his crushing cans — literally — and turning them into thousands of pounds for local charities.

His idea grew into We Can CIC, a community interest company with an ambitious goal: collect 20,000 aluminium cans every seven days. Residents bag them up, local businesses pitch in, and Ryan’s family drives around picking them up before crushing them at home. His dad John estimates the work takes “up to 20 hours a week,” on top of storing and hauling everything to scrapyards.

The money, after costs, goes straight to food banks. “We’re happy to grow the charity,” John said. “It all goes for a good cause.”

The timing couldn’t be better for Birmingham, which hasn’t had regular recycling collections for more than a year due to a bin workers’ strike. The family says their operation helps fill the gap, and they’re happy to collect cans from households who want to contribute.

Ryan said local businesses “give us all of these bags of cans,” and while he admits he’d “rather be playing video games,” the bigger picture wins out. “When I think about it, I just love what I do because I get to help people in need, families, by giving back.”

The scale of the operation is striking. The family processes about a tonne of cans a month, and community support keeps growing. John said recycling is increasingly important to people, and that enthusiasm has helped the project thrive.

So far, around £5,000 in cash and food is donated to charities each year, including Anawim, a women’s support hub in Birmingham. And the partnership goes both ways. Angela — known as Miss P — volunteers by gathering cans five days a week with a litter picker and bin bags. “It is satisfying for me and to all the ladies, them that benefit from it,” she said.

Megan Heath from Anawim said the impact is felt every day. “It keeps our food bank very well stocked. It keeps our champions busy and gives them purpose in their days that they might not otherwise have.”

What began as a teenage idea has become a small but mighty recycling network: lighter on waste, heavier on community spirit, and run by a kid who says helping people matters more than screen time.

Teen Turns Cans Into Cash for Charity, Donates Thousands While Tackling Recycling Woes

Alexandra Szilvasi set out for a quiet Monday with her puppy, Snickers. A change of scenery, a pub lunch, maybe a long walk along the River Trent. Instead, the day ended with a rescue, a near miss, and a search for the stranger who pulled her from the water.

The 36-year-old had taken her 10-month-old spaniel mix to Gunthorpe, Nottinghamshire, for only the second time. After about 40 minutes of walking, she started kicking a ball for Snickers to chase. One bounce off a rock sent the ball straight into the river. Snickers didn’t hesitate. “She saw it and just did a big belly jump into the water,” Szilvasi said.

The puppy managed a couple of metres before the current grew too strong. That was the moment Szilvasi’s instincts took over. “My mind went blank and I just ran in,” she said. The problem: she can’t swim.

She climbed down a ladder on the water’s edge and leaned out as far as she could, hooking her feet around the bottom rung to steady herself. “Just as the current started to take Snickers, she started swimming again, enough so I could grab her and bring her to the ladder with me.” The water was freezing, and once she had the dog, she realised she couldn’t climb back up while holding her.

They were stuck there for nearly five minutes. That’s when a man who’d been fishing farther down the bank appeared. Szilvasi passed Snickers up to him and then climbed out herself. She was shaking and in shock. “I don't know if we would still be here if it wasn't for the man,” she said.

He told her they were “very lucky” and explained he wasn’t from Gunthorpe at all, but Beeston, about 24 kilometres away. Then he left quickly before she could catch his name.

Now Szilvasi hopes he’ll see her message somehow. “We just really want to say thank you and take him out for a pint – or whatever he wants,” she said.

Nottinghamshire Fire and Rescue Service praised the bystander’s quick action but used the moment to offer a reminder. It “commends the bystander for their bravery, which contributed to saving a life,” a spokesperson said, but also “strongly advises members of the public never to enter the water to rescue people or pets.” In any emergency, they said, call 999 and ask for fire and rescue.

Szilvasi understands the warning. But in the moment, logic didn’t stand a chance. “I just had to go in, she's my dog,” she said. Snickers, she added, is part springer spaniel, part cocker spaniel, and completely adored. “I always wanted a dog, because they are great for your heart, great for everything. The house would be empty without her.”

She still hopes the man who helped them will come forward. Until then, she and Snickers are staying on dry land.

This Woman Rescued From a River Hopes to One Day Thank Her Mystery Hero — With a Pint

It’s not often that a nutrition study makes researchers stop and say, now that’s interesting. But a new analysis of more than 1.8 million people has done exactly that, showing that vegetarians face meaningfully lower risks for several major cancers compared with meat eaters.

Published in the British Journal of Cancer, the work found reduced risk across five cancer types. Vegetarians had a 21 percent lower risk of pancreatic cancer, 12 percent lower risk of prostate cancer, and 9 percent lower risk of breast cancer. Those three alone account for roughly one in five cancer deaths in the UK.

The drops didn’t stop there. Vegetarians also had a 28 percent lower risk of kidney cancer and a 31 percent lower risk of multiple myeloma. Dr Aurora Pérez-Cornago, the study’s principal investigator, called the findings “really good news for those who follow a vegetarian diet.”

Researchers pulled data from several long-running health studies worldwide, giving them a rare sample size large enough to study not just common cancers, but the rarer ones too. In total, the analysis covered about 1.64 million meat eaters, 57,016 poultry eaters, 42,910 pescatarians, 63,147 vegetarians, and 8,849 vegans, tracked for an average of 16 years. Key factors like smoking and body mass index were accounted for.

But the picture wasn’t uniformly protective. Vegetarians had nearly double the risk of squamous cell carcinoma of the oesophagus compared with meat eaters, something the researchers suggest may be tied to nutrient gaps, including B vitamins. Vegans, meanwhile, had a 40 percent higher risk of bowel cancer, which may reflect low average calcium intake and other dietary deficiencies. Their typical calcium intake in the study, 590 mg per day, fell below the UK’s 700 mg recommendation.

The team is cautious about drawing firm conclusions on what drives the differences. Prof Tim Key, a co-investigator, said it isn’t yet clear whether risks stem from meat itself or from something specifically protective in vegetarian diets. “My feeling is the difference is more likely to be due to the meat itself, but that’s an opinion that we haven’t looked at directly,” he said.

One notable wrinkle: vegetarians in this study didn’t show a lower risk of bowel cancer. Key said that finding aligns with previous research, given that red and processed meat intake in this cohort was relatively low. “It could be that if we had had more people with very high intakes of meat in the meat-eating group, the results could have been different,” he added.

The study also found benefits in other diet groups. Pescatarians had lower risks of breast, kidney and bowel cancers. Poultry eaters saw a lower risk of prostate cancer.

The researchers point out that diets have changed since many participants entered the studies in the 1990s and 2000s. Ultra-processed foods are more common, and vegan products today are often fortified with nutrients like calcium, which could shift future results. Prof Jules Griffin of the University of Aberdeen, who wasn’t involved in the study, praised the scale of the work but noted one gap: there was no comparison group eating the NHS Eatwell diet, which emphasises moderation in meat and fish and could represent a strong benchmark for reducing cancer risk.

For now, the study offers a clearer map of how diet and cancer risk intersect across millions of lives — and where researchers still need answers.

Massive Study Finds Vegetarians Have Lower Risk for Several Major Cancers

France24

Jim Carrey has spent decades surprising audiences, so it feels fitting that France’s biggest film awards handed him a moment to surprise them right back. At the César Awards on Thursday, the 64-year-old Canadian-American actor accepted a lifetime honour and did it entirely in French — with a punchline ready. “How was my French? Almost mediocre, right?” he joked, adding that his French roots go back “around 300 years ago.”

The ceremony opened with a tribute sketch from presenter Benjamin Lavernhe, who slipped into Carrey’s signature green-faced swagger from The Mask, one of the films that made Carrey a global star in the 1990s. The crowd didn’t need reminding, but the moment landed anyway. Carrey’s career, after all, started on stand-up stages before exploding into cult comedies like Dumb and Dumber, The Mask and Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.

Then came the turn no one entirely expected. Carrey pushed into drama, earning a Golden Globe for 1998’s The Truman Show, playing an ordinary man slowly realising his life is a TV production. He earned more critical praise in 2004 for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, starring opposite Kate Winslet as a heartbroken man choosing to erase his memories.

He later found mainstream success again in franchises like Sonic, before stepping back from Hollywood in the early 2020s. The César d’honneur acknowledges that entire arc, from elastic-faced comedy to soulful character work.

The night also spotlighted American director Richard Linklater, who won best director for Nouvelle Vague, his 2025 black-and-white film about the making of Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless. The win added another international nod to the filmmaker behind Boyhood and the Before trilogy.

For Carrey, the honour marked a rare public appearance after years out of the spotlight. For the crowd, it was a reminder that the performer whose career spanned slapstick, surrealism and quiet melancholy still knows exactly how to make an entrance — in any language.

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