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“SNL U.K.” once again skewered the royal family in this week’s cold open, showing a contentious reunion between Prince William and Kate and Prince Harry and Meghan at Sandringham Estate.

“This place brings back so many memories,” Ayoade Bamgboye as Meghan said to Prince Harry (Jack Shep). “Look, this is where your grandpa asked if I was related to Beyoncé.”

“Classic. And this is where he asked if I was related to him! But still, I can only wonder who sent us this mysterious invite,” Shep as Prince Harry said, holding up a red envelope.

“It’s your family, H,” Bamgboye’s Meghan said. “They must want us to be royals again! I’ll bet we won them over with my famous brownie recipe: it’s brownie and oven.”

Then, Prince William (Freddie Meredith) and Kate (Annabel Marlow) appeared, also with a red envelope in hand. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Prince Ginger Pubes,” Meredith as Prince William said.

“Oh look, William! It’s the woman from ‘Suits,’” Marlow’s Kate added, gesturing to Meghan.

“Jokes on you, she’s not on ‘Suits’ anymore. She doesn’t do anything anymore!” Shep as Prince Harry replied.

King Charles (Larry Dean) and Queen Camilla (Emma Sidi) then entered the room, with Charles saying: “Oh boys, I’m so happy to see you back together. I can’t wait to tell mummy once I’ve died!”

However, it’s soon revealed that they didn’t send the invitation either. Preceded by an evil laugh, former prince Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (George Fouracres) — whose title was stripped due to his links with Jeffrey Epstein — appears and discloses that it was him that brought the family together.

“Didn’t you hear the good news? The search warrants were unlawful! That means it doesn’t count. I’m innocent!” Fouracres as Andrew exclaimed.

“Listen, Andrew —” Dean as Charles began.

“That’s Prince Andrew to you!” Fouracres’ Andrew fired back.

“No, it isn’t. Andrew, enough is enough,” Dean’s Charles replied. “You’re arrogant, you’re entitled, you represent an outdated institution founded on centuries of war, tax evasion and slavery. And that’s all great! But you’ve also been accused of terrible things, and that’s where I draw the line.”

However, they all decide to put their differences aside for one drink, with Dean’s Charles saying: “Very well, Andrew. We can have one drink together. And that’s it. Except for the million pounds I’ll give you for the rest of your life.”

Saturday’s episode of “SNL U.K.” was hosted by Danny Dyer with musical guest Sasha Keable.

The sophomore feature from Hirokazu Kore-eda protégé Nanako Hirose, “Between Two Lovers” tackles a variety of potential hot-button issues, from polyamorous relationships to same-sex parenting, in its contemporary Japanese setting. The film stars Masami Nagasawa as a free-spirited children’s author who invites her doting husband and secret girlfriend to enter into a three-way relationship of convenience, when both partners simultaneously express their desire to start a family. But what begins as a bold and daring attempt to broach progressive issues in a notoriously conservative society ultimately loses its nerve, acquiescing to a number of eyebrow-raising narrative compromises.

Internationally recognizable talent both above and below the line should ensure that “Between Two Lovers” travels far beyond its debut in Competition at the Busan Film Festival, but more progressive audiences may be left frustrated by where Hirose leaves them.

Uta (Nagasawa) has built a comfortable life for herself and her husband Morio (Tasuku Emoto), thanks to the popularity of her “Little Miss Mushroom” series of picture books. While her work regularly brings her into close proximity with children, Uta has little interest in starting a family of her own. Conversely, Morio is desperate to have kids, but any effort to discuss the topic with his wife is quickly dismissed.

Little does he know, Uta has also been involved in a passionate six-year affair with her female editor, Junna (Shizuka Ishibashi), and happily flits back and forth between her two homes, beds, and lovers. Junna is eager to become a mother, although several legal barriers prevent her from accessing sperm donations or fertility treatment. She also wants Uta to accept her sexuality and get a divorce, so that they can live together openly.

Everything comes to a head when Morio invites Junna over for dinner, under the misapprehension that he is extending an olive branch to the colleague who demands so much of his wife’s time. The compounding frustrations of this situation, fueled by too much alcohol, finally expose Uta’s double life. However, desperate to enjoy all the benefits of her unconventional and self-serving situation, without shouldering any of the blame, Uta proposes that Morio be the donor for Junna’s child, and that all three of them move in together.

Hirose, who also writes and edits, has constructed a brilliantly volatile scenario, vulnerable to any number of potentially explosive and destructive dramatic developments. Disappointingly, her screenplay proceeds to unfold in a procession of frustrating get-outs and compromises, repeatedly choosing the least interesting or challenging direction to take this would-be throuple. The archaic legal restrictions restricting same-sex couples or unmarried women, for example, are acknowledged and adhered to, rather than being openly challenged or criticized.

The film certainly expresses an interest in the shifting dynamics of this unconventional unit, especially once Junna does fall pregnant and moves into the family home. Morio, already a tender and delicate soul, becomes increasingly protective of the woman carrying his child. At the same time, Junna finds herself sliding into a more conventional role, at once maternal but also spousal. The ever-precocious Uta, meanwhile, feels more and more ostracized within the group, as the supposedly idyllic threesome she conceived to feed her own compulsive nature relegates her to a sulking adolescent. For good or ill, the film also refrains from forcing Uta to ever clarify her sexuality or choose one partner over the other.

With the influence of Kore-eda on full display, Hirose raises several legitimate questions about what constitutes a real family, as well as the perceived role of women in society and the guardrails that continue to exist so as to limit and enforce these outdated expectations. While it could be argued that the very fact “Between Two Lovers” addresses these issues at all, and does so this explicitly, is already a bold stride in the right direction, much of that intention is undone in how they are resolved and acquiesced to on screen.

Performances across the board are strong, even if the characterizations themselves are more difficult to embrace. Uta is frustratingly selfish and naive, but Nagasawa willfully throws herself into the role, in a manner that makes her unlikable to a degree we have rarely seen her. Ishibashi makes for a resilient and empathetic Junna, even as her character inevitably bears the brunt of much of the film’s divisive moralizing, while Emoto’s Morio is a quivering wreck of fragility and good intentions.

Technical contributions are polished, with particular kudos to Ryo Sugimoto’s production design, which creates a pair of equally warm, yet subtly contrasting, living spaces in the married couple’s suburban home and the women’s more illicit love nest, deftly reflecting Uta’s dual existence. HIMI’s score is also employed sparingly yet effectively, but these aesthetic elements fade quickly from memory, overshadowed by the film’s more contentious narrative choices.

“Midday Meal” isn’t necessarily about the art of cooking, but it is in part about the rituals of food, rituals which become more precious with scarcity. But more than that, the new film from director Majid Majidi — best known for his 1997 drama “Children of Heaven”, the first Iranian production ever nominated for the Best International Feature Oscar — is about the right to have food, a punishing struggle to find and provide it in the absence of governmental care.

Set in the Iranian village of Goorankesh, housed in an incredibly arid and seemingly inhospitable region, the film follows schoolteacher Davoud Soulan (Mohammad Rahimi), whose job lies on precarious foundations. His livelihood is mostly privately funded — though his salary is from the ministry of education, he’s only a contractor — and his benefactor has passed away. Worse still, the dead man’s heirs don’t wish to continue the investment that allows him to provide lunches for his students. This pause in food supply imperils the entire school due to a domino effect: With no lunch, the kids will stop showing up, which would shut the school down after an estimated two weeks.

The teacher accepts the semi-transactional nature of his relationship with his students: It’s hard to fault a child for being hungry, and it’s difficult not to be moved by the desperate measures that Soulan takes to keep his school open. He lives in the building to save on rent (which then goes to food), and moonlights smuggling and selling fuel to keep the school running. (Here, smuggling is a pastime than many engage in, children included.)

But it’s not so simple as Soulan choosing and continuing to do the right thing. His determination to keep the school open comes with some moral compromises — and this is what makes “Midday Meal” more interesting, and more fraught, than expected.

The conflict between pragmatism and generosity begins at a small scale and incrementally escalates. At first, it’s seen in Soulan’s hesitation at accepting children from other villages to his class — then in his rage at his mother for feeding guests at the potential expense of the children’s meals. Between Rahimi’s performance and Majidi’s patient exploration of his reactions, it comes off as very human rather than as an idealistic cipher for how the director wishes the world was. Desperation shifts Soulan’s actions into more dubious territory, especially as one character even calls into question how much of what he does is charity and how much is pursuit of a guaranteed salary.

Either way, Rahimi balances the character’s clear vulnerability with just enough ambiguity about his plans for the school, accentuated through Majidi’s restrained and naturalistic approach. The director’s deliberate obfuscation of Soulan’s immediate intentions — beyond his desire to keep the school open — make for a fascinating character study. Rahimi plays him as a mostly sincere but deeply conflicted man, and most importantly a desperate one, capable of some rather unexpected deceptions. One of these is effectively kept hidden from scene to scene, especially once a sick old man falls into Soulan’s care.

At one point, Soulan points out that the crime of fuel-smuggling is minor compared to the barons profiting off the very same — and shouldn’t the motivation, the practical outcome of the act, count for something? Majidi tests the limits of this sentiment throughout “Midday Meal,” often to great effect. The film starts from a point of frustration about a lack of governmental care, and a community falling apart from the stressors of being left with no support. The few encounters with representatives of the law are exasperating — an officer chastises Soulan for being a bad role model for his students — though not necessarily cut and dried. Meanwhile, a member of the education department treats his organization and financing with suspicion, despite having already left him to his own devices.

This is where the anger of “Midday Meal” comes in, an innate frustration at how so many institutions continually fail to make the simplest decision in the world: to provide for people. Majidi’s matter-of-fact style of shooting underlines the cold reality that Soulan tries to navigate, and strips away any semblance of potential didacticism. For every good deed he does, there’s an underside of pragmatism to it, which can seem a little ruthless.

But some good deeds do seem to come back around, in moments of grace that keep “Midday Meal” from being a punishingly bleak affair. Despite his seeming sternness and the board’s outright negligence, the inspector sees Soulan’s charity and decides to help how he can — even if the scene of the inspection itself is incredibly stressful. In a film that, at the outset, seems like it could be open-and-shut in terms of moral simplicity, there are ultimately no easy answers.

To the question of whether Rosalía would be dancing during her “Saturday Night Live” appearance or not, that depends on how you’re looking at it. The acclaimed singer stood in place, perfectly still, during her first number, “Reliquia” — but appeared to be standing en pointe for the entire four-minute performance.

For her second “SNL” number, “Magnolias,” Rosalía didn’t assume such a difficult position, but the equally gorgeous performance had a different set of physical demands, as an in-studio rain shower erupted midway through the song, dampening her hair and face and turning her white dress clingy and sheer.

On social media, viewers immediately marveled at Rosalía’s ability to deliver her usual powerful vocals during the first song while striking the pose — and some wondered if she was somehow being propped up through unseen means. Fans who have seen her balletic prowess on display on her global “Lux” tour testified to her ability to pull off something that athletic without resorting to artificial measures. She was joined at the very end of “Reliquia” by a dozen dancers, who lined up on either side of her as a strobe effect took over.

In her subsequent singin’-in-the-rain performance of “Magnolias,” the singer’s undergarments became visible as her dress got more drenched. But viewers had already seen Rosalía in them minutes earlier, at the conclusion of her one appearance in a comedy sketch. The skit had the singer appearing in a thought bubble and and encouraging host Shane Gillis to abandon his gravely ill mother’s bedside to go to a Jelly Roll concert at Las Vegas’ Sphere.

Hong Kong’s Cappu Films has signed on as worldwide sales agent for “Overstake,” a sci-fi action thriller from writer-director Stas Mareev that pairs a live-action shoot with settings being rebuilt through generative AI.

The sales company is introducing the title to buyers at the Busan International Film Festival’s Asian Contents & Film Market.

In the film, a wounded veteran joins a deadly betting game for a life-changing payout: he has two hours to cross an industrial city and keep his ex-wife alive, while strangers get offers on their phones to save him or stop him in his tracks. The game’s organizers turn the pair’s fight for survival into a show. The cast includes Konstantin Adaev, Vika Tokareva, Oleg Chernov, Konstantin Sidikhin, Denis Starkov and Sergey Russkin.

“‘Overstake’ is a chance to return to a film I already directed and rebuild its world at a scale that was impossible for us before,” Mareev said. “The performances and story remain the foundation, while generative AI allows me to rethink the environments, action and visual language without losing the human core of the film.”

“We’ve handled international sales for many films in this genre, and sci-fi and action are particular strengths for Cappu,” said Janice Woo of Cappu Films. “We were impressed by Stas’s promo and look forward to introducing the film to our distribution partners in Busan.”

The AI work is still in progress, so buyers in Busan will see a promo along with a handful of finished sequences.

Cappu’s Busan lineup also features “Banr”; “Fox Hunt”; “Ephemera,” Shan Jiang’s Tribeca title; WWII spy series “Operation Doolittle,” told across nine episodes; martial arts film “Lion Fist”; Joy Hopwood’s dramedy “Her Last Laugh,” from Australia; and “Zombie Plane,” an action comedy toplined by Vanilla Ice, Sophie Monk and Chuck Norris.